Chapter 504: Unstable Trends
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
Nina often remained unaware of the extraordinary power she held within herself. She possessed an incredible ability that could instill fear and awe in even the most formidable supernatural beings. Yet, she was frequently unconscious of the full extent of her abilities.
This ignorance, while potentially dangerous, served as a blessing in disguise. It allowed her to maintain her human identity and mindset. After all, an explosion reaching a staggering temperature of 6000 degrees Celsius could cause cataclysmic destruction, regardless of where it occurred.
Fortunately for Nina, Duncan was always aware of this situation. He took on the responsibility of guiding and instructing her, ensuring she was regularly reminded of the potential risks of her powers. He helped her understand the true gravity of her abilities and discovered methods to assist her in slowly but steadily learning to control her solar power. Thanks to Duncan’s efforts, Nina was gradually coming to terms with her reality and accepting it.
To Nina, the world seemed like a delicately crafted yet exceedingly fragile house made of paper. The slightest error or mishap could cause it to erupt into a deadly blaze, like careless breathing or staring at a spot for too long, effectively charring the area into a wasteland.
Now, it seemed that Nina’s understanding and mastery over her powers had significantly improved. Apart from rare and minor instances of “losing control,” she hadn’t incinerated anything else. She consistently maintained the outlook and understanding of an ordinary human, ensuring she didn’t succumb to arrogance or dangerous overconfidence due to her formidable strength.
In Duncan’s view, this was a positive development.
The pitch-black surface of the ocean subtly rippled within their sight. The tumultuous sky and the sea seemed to merge into one without any discernible boundary. The eerie fire encircling their vessel, the Vanished, lit up the nearby water surface. At the intersection of light and darkness, occasional sightings of peculiar and unnerving shadows could be seen.
These fleeting apparitions darted through the air or water. They were the indigenous inhabitants of the spirit realm. These chaotic and simple-minded creatures were drawn to the intruder, the Vanished. But as soon as they assembled, they were scorched by the spectral flames and subsequently dispersed, retreating in fright.
Intrigued by the scene, Nina dashed to the rear deck’s edge. She perched herself right on the deck, dangling her legs over the railing, her eyes wide with curiosity as she examined the “sea” that was both alien and fascinating to her.
Duncan warned Nina about not losing her balance and falling overboard before he redirected his attention to mastering the ship’s navigation. After a short period, a sudden inquiry popped into his mind.
“Vanna,” he addressed the inquisitor woman standing on the deck’s edge, surveying the sea.
“I have a question that suddenly sprang up regarding the Storm Goddess.”
Vanna quickly spun around, a serious expression replacing her earlier look. “Feel free to ask.”
“The Storm Goddess Gomona is considered the protector of the sea, isn’t she?” Duncan queried.
“The entirety of the Boundless Sea falls under the jurisdiction of the Storm Goddess’s protection. So, what about the sea that exists within the spirit realm?”
Vanna’s expression quickly morphed into one of surprise, followed by a mixture of embarrassment and contemplation. After a brief pause, she reluctantly shook her head, apologizing, “I’m sorry, I must confess that I’ve never given this matter any thought before.” She then lapsed into a thoughtful silence.
She reflected on her understanding, “It appears that my comprehension of the tenets of faith is rather superficial. I spend hours in prayer every day, yet I’ve never deeply considered the intricate nuances underlying these scriptures…”
Morris, who was observing this exchange, interjected, “It’s perfectly normal for these granular details not to be spelled out in the scriptures. Since the founding of the Storm Church, no mortal has freely ventured deep into the spiritual realm.” He added, “Doctrine serves as an instrument to elucidate the divine truths to mortals. It only embodies the parts of the truth that we’re aware of, not the complete picture…”
“Then where did the initial ‘doctrine’ originate from?” Duncan probed further. “In the era when the city-state was newly established, and the faith in the Four Gods was just taking root, who penned the initial doctrine to clarify the mechanisms that govern the world’s functioning? Was it the original mortals who evangelized or the four gods themselves?”
This question prompted Morris to sink into contemplation.
Duncan continued, “Based on the current interpretation of the scriptures by the Four Churches, the doctrine could only have originated from the gods, correct?”
“Yes,” Morris nodded in agreement. He seemed to have swiftly arranged his thoughts before responding, “‘Doctrine’ is a fraction of the truth, reflecting its divine origin. According to the generally accepted belief, the inaugural prophets of Crete were granted divine enlightenment. The gods’ wisdom infused their minds, and they instinctively penned down the initial tenets in their enlightened state. This was followed by the ‘Age of Truth Manifestation’ and the ‘Age of Revelation’ spanning several centuries. In these eras, prophets received enlightenment in successive generations, documenting this knowledge that eventually culminated in the present doctrine and scriptures of the Four Gods…”
Duncan stayed silent for a substantial period, lost in deep thought. After what seemed like an eternity, he posed another question, disrupting the silence, “Are there still prophets today who receive such enlightenment and are capable of drafting new doctrines and truths?”
Upon hearing this, Morris and Vanna exchanged glances before Morris responded, “To the best of my knowledge, there aren’t any.” Morris shook his head, “Saints can perceive the gods’ voices, but it’s usually just indistinct suggestions or prompts. ‘Prophets’ who can engage in direct dialogues with the gods like those recorded in history haven’t emerged since the end of the Dark Age. However, those heretics who pledge allegiance to the Dark Sun or the Nether Lord often profess that prophets have risen among them. But as you’re well aware, the ‘prophets’ they refer to are frequently nothing more than deranged individuals plagued by mental corruption…”
“So, it implies that from the time of the Crete Kingdom through to the Dark Ages, the gods had frequent interactions with the mortal realm,” Duncan said contemplatively. “They could even engage in a certain degree of dialogue with deserving mortals over time. But starting from the city-state era, their interaction with the mortal realm was reduced to merely vague ‘suggestions’.”
As Duncan spoke these words, a perplexed expression etched itself onto Vanna’s face. Compelled by curiosity, she had to ask, “I’ve never approached this matter from such a perspective before. What prompted these sudden inquiries?”
Duncan trailed off into a moment of silence. His mind involuntarily revisited the image he had recently encountered in Tyrian’s office – the moon.
From what he understood, the world where the moon existed lacked the Four Gods. There was no expansive sea under the protection of the Storm Goddess, no World’s Creation suspended in the sky, and the deep sea was devoid of concealed stars and demons.
The image of the moon had been etched in his mind since he first laid eyes on it. His tranquility was shattered, and a plethora of speculations about this world began to consume his thoughts.
“I’ve suddenly developed a keen interest in the oldest mysteries of this world.” He voiced his thoughts slowly. He then drew a deep breath, nodded at Vanna and Morris, and gave his assent, “I’ve reviewed the ‘warning’ message you’ve prepared to relay to the Storm Church and the Academy of Truth. There are no issues; you can proceed with establishing contact with your respective headquarters at sea.”
Even though Morris and Vanna harbored lingering doubts and were mildly concerned about the captain’s recent somber disposition, they chose not to press him further. They simultaneously bowed their heads in acknowledgment, responding in unison, “Yes, captain.”
Lucretia slowly stirred from a restless slumber, fraught with a series of chaotic, peculiar, exhilarating, and outlandish nightmares. She turned to gaze out the window. The heavy curtains effectively barred any external light, except for a sliver of golden afterglow that managed to filter through the narrow gap, casting long shadows in the room. The familiar daily objects relegated to the dim corners seemed to exude an additional uncanny vibe, as if the residual power from her nightmares had seeped into the real world and was now lurking in the shadows.
“Mistress?” A freakish and unnerving bunny doll stirred to life at her side, cocking its head, its button eyes trained on Lucretia. The voice of a little girl emanated from its cotton-stuffed body.
With a casual movement, Lucretia pulled the bunny doll into her embrace, squeezed it tightly, then lifted her gaze to the window, “What time is it now?”
“There’s still an hour before you usually wake up,” the bunny doll responded, its button eyes scrutinizing Lucretia’s pallid complexion as it endured her aggressive snuggles. “You seem rather unwell, and you were tossing and turning in your sleep… Did you have another disturbing dream?”
“I dreamt of some strange things…” Lucretia responded, rubbing her temples and releasing the bunny doll from her tight grip. “Fetch me a drink.”
“Understood,” the doll complied obediently. It hopped off the bed, retrieved a cup from a nearby cabinet, filled it halfway with her preferred drink, and asked with evident curiosity, “What did you dream about? Is your anxiety stemming from… the impending visit of the old master?”
The doll’s innocent voice harbored a hint of trepidation. It was clear that the mere mention of the phrase “old master” instilled a profound sense of dread in it.
Lucretia accepted the offered cup from the doll, emptied it in a single gulp, and let out a prolonged sigh. “I dreamt about the time when the Bright Star was on the brink of falling due to its close brush with the border fog. However, in my dream, our ship didn’t fall from the fog; instead, it soared upwards, crashing directly into the World’s Creation. Also, I saw countless ships contorted into all sorts of shapes, cascading from the world towards the sky… It was all so ludicrous and uncanny.”
As she narrated her dream, she tossed the empty cup to the bunny doll next to her, “Yes, his imminent arrival does induce a certain level of anxiety, but not enough to instigate nightmares. Rabbi, he is my father after all.”
“Yes, Mistress,” the bunny doll promptly nodded in acknowledgment but couldn’t resist cautioning her, “But do be wary. Experiencing nightmares aboard the ship could be a bad omen. The old master… he does have ties to subspace, and he is currently drawing closer to you.”
“I understand,” Lucretia responded nonchalantly. She then rose from the bed, moved barefoot across the room to the window, and threw open the heavy curtains. The warm and radiant “sunlight” instantly flooded the entire room.
The sun had not yet fully risen, but the colossal glowing geometric structure hovering just above the water’s surface had already been casting “eternal daylight” over the vast expanse of the sea for a substantial duration.
Lucretia narrowed her eyes as she basked in the seemingly infinite ‘sunlight.’
The voice of the bunny doll echoed from behind her, “Mistress, are you planning to visit the stone sphere today?”
“No,” Lucretia responded, shaking her head. She turned and sauntered towards her vanity table. Today, she intended to venture into town to reunite with her old acquaintances from the Explorer’s Association.
Having visions of space ships?
Then why are they going up, instead of crash-landing?
World’s creation = their interpretation of a interstellar wormhole, or space-time rift?
Maybe it was an exodus fleet setting off from their doomed world.
Oho!!! It did mention in the earlier chapters that there are possible sign of humans in this dimension who lands from a Spaceship.
I have a wild theory on Human history… What if… with the binary code and all that jazz, the now standing “gods” are actually humans from an Advanced civilization. The “local natives” of this world are chaotic (with there being Giants and eaelier civilizations that also crash landes into the “planet”) and thus the Humans that crash landed here began to morph/shapeshift into Eldricht form because the Spaceship landed on the Deep Sea.
Missing their “human” form, the “gods” began “sculpting” their descendants like a human, builds Cities above waters/the Sun/the Moon to mimic “how humans lived”, and created a System.
The Giants/other race that “crash landed” also tried to build their own civilization but failed. The Humans being the ones who succeed because of “the Blue Print” stuff meaning their coding abilities are more profound. Irl You can build an entire worlds through video games, maybe the concept of this “Blue Print” is the same as a sandbox Video Games except made real and Eldricht-ified???
Would “Rabbie” not be a better name than “Rabbi”, which has some religious connotations
i got lazy, thats why