Chapter 536: The Gift
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
“The Dream of the Nameless One?”
Upon hearing this peculiar term from the captain, Agatha and the goat-headed figure exchanged puzzled glances.
“Where did you come across this term?” Agatha inquired after a moment of contemplation. “Is this part of the ‘information’ you just received?”
“The followers of the Cult of Annihilation refer to the ‘dream’ that Heidi and Lucretia experienced as ‘The Dream of the Nameless One,'” Duncan explained, nodding slowly. “The original source of this information might be the Enders. Both the Cult of Annihilation and the Sun Worshipers seem to have responded to some sort of ‘call’ from the Enders. If the information is accurate, this ‘Dream of the Nameless One’ appears to be a kind of ‘vision’ that spans many dreams on a massive scale. Elves… they seem to become a ‘gateway’ into this dream under certain conditions.”
He paused briefly before continuing, “These cultists appear to be searching for something within the depths of this dream, each with their own hidden agendas. While the purpose of the Sun Cult remains unclear, the Cult of Annihilation seems to be after something they call ‘the original blueprint.'”
Agatha’s expression grew more serious. “I’ve never heard of this ‘Dream of the Nameless One,’ but logically, a vision of such magnitude shouldn’t have remained unknown all these years. You mentioned that elves can become a ‘gateway’ under specific conditions?”
Duncan nodded slightly. “According to the Cult of Annihilation, there seems to be a ‘defect at the blueprint stage’ within the elves, causing their spirits to connect with the ‘Dream of the Nameless One.’ This probably relates to theories about creation by the Nether Lord, but we lack specific details.”
“…I’m sorry, Captain, it seems we can’t provide any useful answers,” Agatha said after a moment of serious consideration, shaking her head apologetically. “However, since this matter involves the elf race, we can investigate in Wind Harbor, an elf city-state — especially since an elf here has just fallen into that dream.”
Duncan agreed, adjusting his posture and leaning back in his chair, tapping the armrest lightly. His eyes fell on a slowly unraveling sea chart. “We need to have a good conversation with Master Taran El… Let’s head to the Bright Star and say hello to Lucretia.”
On the outskirts of Wind Harbor, near the “Glowing Falling Object,” the Bright Star was slowly patrolling. The diffuse sunlight covering the sea surface made the ship appear as though it was sailing over fine golden sand.
A gentle sea breeze blew directly towards the face, carrying the warm scent unique to the southern sea regions. However, Master Taran El, standing on the deck, occasionally felt a chill. Tightening his coat against the wind, he turned to look at the “Sea Witch,” Lucretia, who stood atop one of the masts.
“Are we waiting here?” Taran El called out loudly.
Lucretia glanced down at him. Her soft voice, though clear, was transmitted directly into Taran El’s ears. “We are waiting here.”
“Can I go back?” Taran El shouted again. “The emotional reunion between father and daughter, it’s not quite right for an outsider like me to be present!”
Lucretia’s face remained expressionless. “My father said he wants to talk to you.”
Taran El raised his hands in frustration. “Could you come down and accompany me, then? I… I feel a bit nervous!”
Lucretia looked down at him condescendingly. “You are an adult and a prestigious scholar at that. You should learn to manage your stress.”
“…Miss Lucretia, wouldn’t you be nervous too?”
“Why would I be nervous about this? He’s my…” Her voice from the mast suddenly stopped, startling Taran El. He was about to inquire further but was interrupted by an intense throbbing.
It was a spiritual intuition that suddenly sent a warning, an instinctive tension from a scholar who had spent years dealing with various dangerous substances and secret knowledge. Taran El instantly broke out in a cold sweat, followed by hearing a low, beast-like breathing noise.
The next moment, dense fog and terrifying shadows abruptly filled his vision like a high wall next to the Bright Star. The distorted light and shadow brought by the inversion of the spirit realm seemed to swarm out of the fog. Huge shadows floated up from the spirit realm and descended.
Just like many terrifying sea legends describe, the Vanished was enveloped in darkness and chaos, burning with apocalyptic flames, as if a nightmare had suddenly taken form in the real world. Like an unavoidable fate, it came crashing towards them. Within a few breaths, the towering bow of the Vanished broke into reality.
Taran El stood frozen on the deck like a stone statue. He heard a “thud” from some direction but didn’t have the courage to turn his head. It took several more seconds before he regained his ability to breathe and felt his heart beating strongly—the potion Lucretia had given him was still exerting a robust protective effect, allowing his subpar organs to continue functioning reliably under intense shock.
Gradually, the esteemed scholar regained his senses and his ability to speak. He quickly turned to where the “witch” had been standing earlier. “Miss Lucretia! Your father…”
The mast was empty, with no sign of the witch.
Taran El stared for a moment, then subconsciously scanned his surroundings, calling out loudly. “Miss Lucretia! Lu…!”
“Stop shouting; I’m here.”
A cold voice carrying a hint of warning interrupted him. Taran El quickly turned to see Lucretia standing beside him. She was gazing at the bow of the Vanished with an indifferent expression.
“Ah, where did you go just now? I turned around, and you were…”
“Quiet,” Lucretia interrupted brusquely. “My father doesn’t like people who shout and scream during a meeting.”
Taran El instantly closed his mouth, tensely watching the large ship that was burning with ghostly flames. Almost simultaneously, he saw a flame appear out of thin air on the deck of the Bright Star. The flame rapidly soared, forming a rotating portal, and soon, a tall figure stepped out of it.
Since this was his first visit to the Bright Star, Duncan chose to come alone to avoid confusion. Now, he had finally set foot on this ship—one of the two remaining frigates from the once Vanished Fleet, the Bright Star. And he had finally met Lucretia in reality, the daughter of “Duncan Abnomar.”
The “Sea Witch” wore a black dress with an adventurer’s style. She hesitantly walked a few steps towards him but stopped a few meters away. She had been looking in his direction, her expression filled with complexity and restraint. Despite her best efforts to hide it, her nervousness and hesitance were apparent.
In Duncan’s mind, memories involuntarily surfaced of some information Tyrian had revealed to him before leaving Frost—
“Lucy comes across to outsiders as cold, aloof, and mercurial, but in essence, that’s because she’s not good at socializing and cannot accurately express her emotions…
“When she’s nervous, it shows, so she always avoids putting herself in tense situations. That’s why the ‘Sea Witch’ always seems hurried, particularly independent and eccentric…
“When she’s overly embarrassed, she doesn’t know how to initiate a conversation. This gives the impression of extreme rudeness, arrogance, and peculiarity. However, if someone willingly breaks the silence and speaks to her at that moment, she would be delighted…”
These thoughts played through Duncan’s mind as he faced Lucretia, giving him insights into the nature of this enigmatic woman. Her apparent coldness was a mask, concealing vulnerabilities and complexities that made the impending conversation not just a matter of diplomacy but a delicate dance of human understanding.
During his time in Frost, Duncan had maintained the appearance of having lost his memory due to “subspace” in front of Tyrian. This allowed him to openly inquire about many matters related to Lucretia, and now, this information seemed to be coming in handy.
“It’s been a long time,” Duncan said, a faint smile crossing his face after a moment’s adjustment. He approached the “Sea Witch.” “Lucy, I’ve returned.”
He tried to play the role of “Duncan Abnomar” according to the rehearsals and his understanding. However, as he greeted her, a subtle emotion rose from the depths of his heart, revealing itself quietly. In this faint and blurry emotion, he felt a hint of longing and… regret.
He was no stranger to this feeling—every body he inhabited would react similarly when encountering people or things of importance from their past lives. This time, Duncan didn’t attempt to control or ignore this sensation. Instead, he allowed it to flow through his heart and gradually fade away.
Lucretia’s facial expression subtly changed several times. No one knew what the “witch” had thought during those few brief seconds. She stared for a while, and finally, all the memories and once-intense emotions settled into a very soft utterance:
“Papa, you’ve been away for too long this time…”
Duncan fell silent for a moment and reached into his coat. “I brought you a gift.”
“A gift?” Lucretia looked up somewhat blankly.
Duncan extended his hand and slowly opened his palm. A small, silver hairpin, designed with waves and feathers, lay quietly in his hand.
Lucretia seemed a little stunned. She stared blankly at the delicate hairpin for a while before blinking as if suddenly waking up, hesitatingly reaching out her hand.
The hairpin was real, with a solid touch and a slight warmth to it—the warmth of a living being. The “witch” held this gift for a long, long time, eventually allowing a slight smile to emerge, her voice softly saying, “…You delivered it so slowly; it’s been out of fashion for a century…”
After a moment, she seemed to take a gentle breath.
“Thank you.”
f… what a sad way to lose their father. and the worse is that, he left but then it cursed them to stay.
Yeah, based on this conversation alone, it confirms that they were a happy family before the disaster struck. It must be painful to see your own beloved father became a walking disaster for century.
Heartwarming father-daughter reunion.
Hey, what about Nilu?
Dream of nameless one. Is it like tomb of nameless king? Or is it refer to dream of the nameless king?
Awww… I wish I had this connection and relationship to my family.