Chapter 384: Metamorphosis
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
Anomaly 077, known as one of the hundred most dangerous anomalies, had gained infamy for unleashing devastating storms that sank countless ships and claimed thousands of sailors’ lives. Unlike most anomalies, it seemed almost sentient, behaving like a conscious being. This peculiarity made it a subject of extreme caution among the religious leaders of every city-state where it was known. However, in an unexpected twist, this formidable entity pretended to be harmless or even dead when it encountered Lawrence, masking its true powers.
When Lawrence prepared to activate Anomaly 077, he had anticipated various possible outcomes, creating numerous contingency plans to manage the entity, which was often referred to as the Sailor. Yet, the anomaly’s decision to feign death went beyond his wildest expectations.
The elderly captain looked up, meeting his first officer’s eyes. Both were baffled by the bandaged figure’s behavior, which did not match the documented accounts of the anomaly. Their thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sounds of massive waterspouts erupting from the nearby sea and the booming of the White Oak’s defensive artillery.
Their shock quickly turned to urgency as the “Seagull,” a swift and threatening enemy ship, approached rapidly.
With an adversary they couldn’t outrun or outfight, their only hope lay in the Sailor’s unique ability to teleport entire ships. This presented the only chance for the White Oak’s crew to avoid disaster.
Lawrence lowered his gaze to the mummy-like figure, which still pretended to be dead, its eyes tightly shut. Despite the unpredictable elements, Lawrence was determined to persuade the anomaly to help them.
“Wake up!” Lawrence shouted, his voice urgent. He grabbed Anomaly 077’s collar and shook it vigorously. Handling the mummy was deeply unsettling, but the critical situation overrode his revulsion. “I know you’ve escaped your seal. You control this ship. Sailor, isn’t commanding a ship second nature to you? Isn’t your power usually unpredictable? Take control of this vessel. We need to leave immediately!”
The mummy’s joints creaked under Lawrence’s shaking, but its eyes remained closed. However, the rise and fall of its chest confirmed it was alive. Outside, the escalating chaos of constant explosions threatened the White Oak’s integrity, increasing Lawrence’s anxiety. In frustration, he slapped the mummy hard. “I know you’re awake!”
Finally, the mummy opened its eyes with a shuddering tremor. It immediately avoided Lawrence’s gaze, shifting awkwardly. Its voice, irritated, rose in protest, “Stop this! Can’t I just return to my rest? This isn’t a joke! Don’t tamper with the ship, don’t touch it!”
Lawrence ignored Anomaly 077’s pleas. Seeing the mummy’s eyes open, he seized the chance and dragged it toward the ship’s helm. Reacting to the dire situation, some crew members rushed forward to help. They pushed the Sailor’s shriveled body against the ship’s steering wheel while the first mate shouted, “Push it onto the wheel! It’s the fastest way to activate its powers!”
Still, Anomaly 077 resisted, its desperate screams echoing across the ship. “Let go of me! Let go of me! You can’t force me! Someone, save me! What kind of monsters are you? I beg of you, please!”
“Grab the DAMN WHEEL!” Lawrence roared, using all his strength to force the mummy’s body toward the ship’s steering equipment. “This will be over before you know it!”
“No! Help! MURDER!!” Anomaly 077 fought back with surprising vigor, so strong that several of the White Oak’s crew struggled to subdue its thrashing limbs. In its frantic resistance, it glanced back toward its previous resting place. “Let me go back! Tie a noose around my neck. I promise I’ll stay still. I won’t cause any more trouble! Or give me the rope, I’ll hang myself… Please, don’t make me touch this!”
The ship’s bridge was in chaos. The scene was bizarre—Anomaly 077, a name that struck fear into sailors, was now begging and writhing like a helpless prisoner, while the White Oak’s crew tried to force its hands onto the helm. It was so surreal that even the most deranged minds couldn’t have imagined it.
Lawrence couldn’t spare a moment to think about the absurdity. His focus was on the Seagull, drawing closer and firing with alarming precision. The White Oak’s starboard side had taken multiple hits, and a fire was spreading rapidly. If the next cannonball hit the engine room, ammunition depot, or bridge, it would mean their end.
A piercing whistle cut through the air, filling Lawrence with dread. “This is disastrous!”
An explosion rocked the upper deck, sending a massive fireball skyward. The Seagull’s cannon fire had hit the White Oak’s bridge. This was the mortal blow.
The explosion shattered metal and glass, turning debris into deadly projectiles. Lawrence was momentarily blinded by a brilliant white light. He saw his first mate hurled into the air, consumed by flames. The fire advanced, engulfing the remaining sailors and finally him.
As the inferno claimed everything, Lawrence watched the fireball expand, his body gradually consumed by the flames. Time slowed, allowing him to see the flames turn a ghostly green.
Lawrence’s mind was blank. Before he could comprehend what was happening, the red fireball became a vast expanse of spectral green flames. The flames swept over everything, making metal, wood, and glass translucent like spirits. The crew members caught in the fire collapsed, their flesh and bones as clear as crystal. Remarkably, they rose again, unharmed, exchanging confused looks.
It was eerily similar to their first encounter with the Vanished.
The horrific event seemed to be repeating itself.
The sensation of solid ground under his feet snapped Lawrence out of his daze. He found himself standing at the helm, his body engulfed in ghostly flames. Automatically, he reached out, his fingers wrapping around the ship’s wheel.
Instantly, a profound bond surged through him.
Every detail of the White Oak, from each screw to every window and rope, was reflected in his mind as if they were extensions of his own body. Despite his years of familiarity with the ship, he had never felt such an intense connection.
Along with this sensory onslaught came a compelling thought, like an authoritative voice dictating his fate.
“You now belong to the Vanished Fleet. Dedicate your allegiance to Captain Duncan.”
Baffled, Lawrence tightened his grip on the wheel, directing the White Oak as it responded to his mental commands. He guided the ship toward the “enemy vessel” closing in on them.
Anomaly 077, untouched by the explosion, lay near the helm, trembling and whimpering as it watched the spectral flames. “I said I didn’t want to touch it, but you forced me. I can’t defy you, for a sailor who rebels will be chained to a cannonball and cast into the sea! I know the seafaring code! I am the Sailor!”
Lawrence glanced at the entity now identifying as the Sailor. He didn’t fully understand what was happening, but his menacing gaze silenced Anomaly 077, bringing it under his control.
The mummy cautiously rose, observing the bridge being rapidly restored by the spectral flames. The crew, now resembling ghosts, resumed their duties, waiting for their captain’s orders.
“Captain…” Anomaly 077 turned to Lawrence. “…what should be our next move?”
Lawrence was puzzled but then seemed to understand. He looked away.
“The Vanished Fleet is under attack… retaliate.”
“Retaliate!” Anomaly 077 echoed instantly. “Retaliate!”
“Retaliate!” First Mate Gus’s voice boomed, his body wreathed in flames. “Follow the Captain’s command, retaliate!”
“Retaliate!”
The crew on the bridge echoed in perfect harmony. Each spectral crew member on the White Oak received the captain’s command. The ship, reborn amidst the flames, sprang into action. Its steam core roared, gun turrets swiveled into position, and a steam whistle echoed across the sea.
The ship lunged forward, closing the gap with the Seagull. Almost simultaneously, Lawrence saw another specter flanking the White Oak—a vessel shrouded in dense fog and smoke, only visible as a menacing silhouette.
Its silhouette resembled the White Oak, undoubtedly a sister ship.
The enigmatic vessel moved in perfect unison with the White Oak, launching a unified assault on the Seagull.
Through the spectral flames, Lawrence gazed at the phantom warship that had appeared beside them. After what seemed like an eternity, he whispered its name.
“The Black Oak… Martha?”
Welcoming our new sister ship The White Oak and captain Lawerence.
The Black Oak was probably usurped by the Vanished due to its connection to the White Oak. After all, Duncan’s flame has been attached to the White Oak for so long.
The chapter was fun.
The mummy was screaming MURDERR LMAOO
What a whiplash of emotion… from the silly almost murdering Anomally 077, to White Oak joining the Vanished Fleet with an added surprise
The Black Oak and White Oak finally Appeared
White and black… two linked ghost ship counterparts, one native to the surface, one to the dark side of the abyssal mirror. The black oak is likely a deformed “copy…” but that doesn’t really matter, as long as they retain their original souls and rationality, as that one dude did.
For that to happen, the Nether lord would probably have needed to intervene. The Nether Lord’s flesh may have been an attempt to save the other ship, or the other way around with the captain trying to prevent the sludge from corrupting the flesh at all costs. Either way, it should confer some level of protection, and the Nether Lord itself should not be hostile, it’s just that its nature makes its very presence twist reality in ways often harmful to humans.
Recently, there was some support for one of the theories I had in mind: that the powerful supernatural entities cultists worship and the gods are actually one and the same. As we saw, the false sun was being exploited by rather than cooperating with the suntists. The gods were already said to include the opposite concept to their godly domain, is it really that unlikely that there is a side of order and a side of corruption? The gods themselves seem to want to promote order, which makes sense. If the world dies, they probably do too. But their power is neutral and can be used to either end. The Nether lord is probably at least strongly linked to Bartok, and the abyssal mirror realm is probably close to a concept of a corrupted realm of the dead.
The comments about everyone being the same as copies probably refers both to the malleable nature of their world, although this is probably actually the topmost layer of the world. The abyssal deep should be separated into layers of increasingly corrupted “echoes.” Each submersible that emerged represented a deeper layer of corruption emerging into reality. Keep in mind that this is a transmigration story. It may not appear that relevant at the moment, but it means that we shouldn’t abandon our common sense and fully immerse ourselves into this world. From the perspective of a world of order like Earth, the world we’re experiencing… I’m going to call it Embers since I’ll probably need to refer to it a lot, is at least as much of a twisted nightmare reflection of reality as the anomalous space is to the crew of the White Oak. Reality itself isn’t so stable here to dismiss the echoes as false while insisting you are real. Subspace is a chaotic realm composed of concepts, and Embers is an island floating in subspace. There is likely still a material plane that Earth exists in, or multiple, but no entities in Embers have a true material component, excepting captain Duncan that might have a link to his original body despite his soul seeming to have been pulled into subspace. The relationship between the protagonist and the world is probably thus something like an author. Although he didn’t create them, he can freely adopt ownerless concepts as his own and edit them as he desires. Being an ordinary human in a world of jumbled together “fiction” is itself an incredible power.
This is a lovely comment, the theory is great and the speculation on the relationship with Earth is very interesting.
077 putting up an Alice like peformance.
I wonder if these copies can be saved too like Morris’s wife and Vanna were,
If so, then Duncan might be able to turn ALL the ships that went missing these last 50 years into a full new Vanished fleet. It could have been foreshadowed by Tyrian’s thought of whether Duncan was trying to revive the vanished fleet.
Fireee hopefully the black stays a shadow to the white and not disappear
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeess this is SO HYPE
My heart skipped a beat when the Cannonball hit the hull of the White Oak, lucky no crew was hurt in this battle
Thank god for escapism, I’m reading this story so I’m less horrified and despairing and disappointed at the election results.