Chapter 39 “The Captain’s On Land”
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When the peculiar dove spoke, its voice had a unique charm, blending amusement with intrigue and adding a touch of absurdity mixed with a hint of foolishness.
The dove, however, had changed. It no longer appeared in its usual form but had transformed into an eerie undead creature, enveloped in ghostly flames. Its semi-transparent skin showcased an inner structure of bones and tendons that pulsed with a fiery, vibrant energy. The sound of its voice was now accompanied by small fiery bursts, eerily reminiscent of the agonized screams heard when the gates to the underworld swing open.
The boundary between the eerie and the comical was indeed very fine.
Duncan remained rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the spectral flames that danced around him. He had just witnessed the disappearance of three cult members right before his eyes and was puzzled by the forces at play behind this mysterious occurrence.
He was certain of only one thing: it was the work of Ai.
After verifying that the cult members had indeed vanished, Duncan turned to the undead dove perched on his shoulder and asked, “Where did you send them?”
Ai, the dove, preened its now partly transparent feathers and declared, “Sent them back to the shadows!”
Duncan furrowed his brow, pondering. Lately, he had begun to decode the deeper meanings hidden in Ai’s cryptic utterances. “So, you mean you banished them to an alternate realm? Or perhaps you transformed them into a state that is beyond physical touch?”
The dove glanced upward, its eyes flashing with a kaleidoscope of unpredictable colors, and simply cooed in response.
Yet, it resumed the appearance of a typical dove.
Despite this, Duncan felt he had uncovered the truth. He gently tapped Ai’s head with a finger before surveying the dimly lit sanctuary once again.
The flickering oil lamp illuminated everything within the confined space. The followers of the Black Sun, who had once hidden here, were now completely erased from existence. In their place stood the ghostly captain, now inhabiting the bodies of the deceased cult members, accompanied by his enigmatic dove.
Deep down, Duncan was convinced—the trio of cultists was still nearby, trapped within the room, caught in the crevices of a realm impermeable to sensory perception or physical interaction.
He could almost “sense” their futile cries and struggles, their desperate attempts to reconnect with the material world, now thwarted by an impassable barrier outside normal reality.
This sensation continued until, at one moment, Duncan noticed something that confirmed his suspicions: as the oil lamp swayed, casting a complex pattern of light and shadow, he spotted an anomaly on the nearby wall—a mark resembling a powerful sword strike. But upon a second glance, as the lamp’s flame flickered again, the mark vanished, leaving no trace.
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This occurrence signified the final moment that linked the trio of Sun-worshippers to the reality they once knew.
Duncan let out a deep sigh and turned away from the room, leaving with the dove.
Outside, in a deserted lounge, lay a corridor far narrower than the sewer they had previously navigated. It stretched endlessly in both directions, with a crossroad at one end and an upward-angled slope at the other.
Despite the apparent neglect, it was evident that the city’s administrators had maintained these underground passages to some extent—the gas lamps on both sides of the corridor were still lit, casting a warm glow in the otherwise cold, stone surroundings.
Duncan quickly assessed the corridor’s direction and, using fragments of memories, pieced together a route that led back to the surface. Without hesitation, he began his ascent up the slope.
His pace quickened, and a refreshing breeze touched him, the cool air tousling his hair. In the distance, he could hear the constant hum of nighttime factory operations and the more distant sound of waves crashing against the rocky shore.
Duncan could barely contain his excitement and almost broke into a run.
Ai, the dove, now free from its spectral flames and back in its original form, fluttered its wings excitedly on his shoulder, exclaiming, “The era is calling! The era is calling!”
Duncan abruptly stopped and looked into Ai’s eyes, warning, “Don’t talk when we’re outside—it’s unusual to see a talking dove.”
Ai paused momentarily before energetically flapping its wings and replying, “Aye, captain!”
Duncan was momentarily surprised by Ai’s accurate response, unsure if it was just coincidence or something more. Nonetheless, he dismissed the thought.
His attention now shifted to adapting to this unfamiliar world.
The black robe he wore was conspicuously out of place for public appearances. From the memories he had absorbed, this garment was typically used in the secret rituals of the Black Sun’s followers. Wearing this in the city streets could likely lead to his capture and punishment by the local authorities.
The city-state of Pland imposed strict curfews. Being out after dark was risky, and ordinary citizens needed special permits and had to declare their intentions for nighttime activities well in advance. The body of the cult member Duncan had taken over clearly lacked these permits, meaning he had to avoid night patrols to move safely within the city.
In the city, those tasked with maintaining order during the night were known as “Guardians.” These Guardians were an armed group, serving under the authority of the Storm Church. The memories absorbed from the previous owner of Duncan’s body revealed a deep-seated fear and hostility towards these militant clergy.
Duncan was quickly sorting through the jumbled memories left behind in his mind. These fragmented memories, inherited from someone now deceased, were mostly chaotic and unclear. He struggled to piece together a complete personal history within this modern society or to gather detailed information about the city-state of Pland. Nevertheless, the bits and pieces he did manage to gather were enough to form a basic plan of action.
First, he removed his black robe before climbing the ramp leading to the city’s surface. Hidden beneath this eye-catching outfit, he wore plain clothes that wouldn’t draw attention outdoors.
He considered burning the robe to eliminate any trace of his presence but decided against it due to the risk of the fire and smoke drawing the attention of the night patrols. Instead, he rolled the robe up tightly and hid it in a small crevice near the ramp.
Duncan also pondered over the risks and benefits of the sun amulet he carried. After much thought, he decided to keep the amulet with him. It might hold valuable secrets, and he planned to explore its potential further when he returned to the hideout known as the Vanished, to see if his ally Ai could possibly reactivate it.
Safely back at the Vanished, he would have the opportunity to study the amulet in detail.
Before emerging onto the street, Duncan made sure to hide any sign of the concealed robe and adjusted his appearance to blend in as an ordinary citizen rather than a worn-out cult member from the underground. Only after these precautions did he step confidently onto the ramp.
The journey to the surface was quick.
Climbing the ramp, Duncan breathed in the increasingly fresh air. Soon, he could hear the distant sounds of factories and the constant crashing of waves. Moments later, he saw a faint glow from a staircase nearby.
He hurried towards it and was immediately enveloped in a soft light.
He had reached the surface.
The ground was solid under his feet, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon.
Looking around in wonder, Duncan saw the city stretched out before him, standing boldly against the vastness of the Boundless Sea. The city was a marvel of human endeavor, illuminated by a great scar in the sky that bathed intricate rooftops, towering buildings, and distant architectural splendors in its light. Nearby, a slightly run-down suburban area lay, and in the distance, higher terrain held grand structures including a cathedral and the City Hall, which were part of the upper city district.
Suddenly, Duncan was overcome with a fit of silent laughter, leaving him breathless.
But just moments later, he composed himself, took a deep breath of the cool night air, and walked determinedly towards a location etched in his memory.
Members of the cult, too, lived what appeared to be “ordinary lives.” Apart from a few devoted “clergy” who engaged in evil deeds, the Sun Cult was primarily supported by a large number of ordinary people. These followers, who were often brainwashed, included impoverished urban residents from the lower social strata, neglected seniors, and impressionable young people. They were similar to the person whose body Duncan now occupied—an unremarkable individual suffering from a serious illness. Like many others, they struggled to scrape together a meager existence, paying taxes to the city while running an apparently innocuous antique shop in a less affluent part of the city.
Ron, the owner of this antique shop, had lived a life filled with hardships. Tonight marked the end of his troubled journey, as he succumbed, settling his final debts to a sinister god with his last breath. Yet, in passing, he left behind a niche in the world that Duncan found particularly intriguing.
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thanks for the chapter