Chapter 591: Venturing Deeper
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Shirley stopped abruptly on a secluded forest path, her unease and suspicion evident. “Did you hear that?” she asked.
Dog, with a tone of clear distaste, replied, “I didn’t hear anything, but I detected a strong, peculiar odor. It’s a mix of dull grime and a sharp, chaotic urge to destroy everything.”
Reflecting on their past encounters, Shirley said softly, “Our old foes are back. It’s baffling how persistent they are. What could draw them to this place in the Dream of the Nameless One? Is the ‘Original Blueprint’ really worth all this trouble?”
Instead of answering, Dog crouched to sense any residual mystical energy, an aura left by the followers of the Annihilation Cult and their shadow demons.
Recognizing a familiar presence, Dog spoke urgently, “I sense a presence. That Annihilator named ‘Richard’ is with them.”
Shirley, taken aback, exclaimed, “He’s back? After the last beating we gave him, I thought he’d retreat longer.”
Dog replied gravely, “They’ve prepared well before entering this dream. Their mental defenses are strong, so any harm here doesn’t affect their real-world selves much. If they’ve brought such a sizable group, they must understand the Dream of the Nameless One well.”
Pensively, Shirley asked, “Do you think they are still close?”
“They’ve moved on,” Dog replied cautiously. “The demonic aura is dissipating rapidly. It’s hard to tell how far they are, but we need to stay on guard. Richard knows about you, and our previous strategy won’t work on him again.”
Realizing the gravity of the situation, Shirley quickly assessed their surroundings. “Maybe we should find a secure place to hide until daybreak in the real world. It’s unlikely the cultists would retrace their steps.”
Dog, unconvinced, responded, “I wouldn’t bet on that. Remember the unpredictable and dangerous erosions that appeared suddenly and expanded rapidly?” Shaking his head, he advised, “Nowhere here is truly safe. Our best chance might be behind the ‘Silent Wall.’ We need to find that barrier.”
Pointing deeper into the woods, he added, “The Annihilators are looking for the ‘Silent Wall’ too. Our best approach might be to shadow them discreetly, staying far enough to remain undetected. This way, we keep the element of surprise.”
Exasperated, Shirley rolled her eyes and remarked sarcastically, “Well, excuse me for brainstorming!” She let out a small huff, mildly frustrated. “Alright then, let’s press on, but we need to avoid stumbling upon those cultists.”
Dog, supportive as ever, nodded understandingly. He closed his eyes momentarily, focusing on sensing the faint mystical auras. Determining the safest direction, he confidently took a stride forward. But his demeanor changed suddenly, and he whispered urgently, “Shirley, be on your guard, someone’s drawing near!”
Almost on cue, Shirley’s sharp ears picked up stealthy, rapidly approaching footsteps. Her instincts kicked in; she gripped her chain weapon firmly, pivoting toward the sound.
Emerging from the forest’s dense foliage was a striking elven woman. Her attire, intricately designed armor, seemed lightweight yet durable, perfect for navigating dense woodlands while providing ample protection. Sunlight pierced through the treetops, illuminating her cascading golden hair adorned with glowing azure threads. She held a hybrid weapon—a spear and long axe blend, showcasing elven craftsmanship.
Momentarily captivated by the elf’s appearance, Shirley quickly regained her composure. The elf advanced gracefully, closing the distance.
“Why haven’t you heeded the call to retreat? What business do you have outside the protective barriers?”
Feeling momentarily caught off guard, Shirley’s training and experience kicked in. With a hint of embarrassment, she explained, “I… seem to have lost my way. I intended to head toward the Silent Wall.”
Unfazed by Shirley’s flustered state and undeterred by Dog’s formidable appearance, the elf responded in a measured tone, “Both of you are wandering an area known for sudden and dangerous erosions. It’s dangerous out here. Luckily, you’ve encountered me—I’m a guardian of these woods.”
Indicating a direction deeper into the forest with a graceful motion of her weapon, she said, “I can guide you to the Silent Wall.”
Shirley hesitated briefly before replying, “That’d be much appreciated.” As they began their journey, she covertly attempted to contact her captain telepathically. With Dog close by, she kept stride with the elven guide.
As they ventured further, navigating the forest’s labyrinth marked by foliage and uneven terrain, the trio moved harmoniously. The elven guardian led confidently, her presence dominating the path, yet she seldom spoke.
Feeling the pressing silence and sensing an opportunity to learn more about their guide and situation, Shirley initiated a conversation. After pondering a moment, she asked, “By the way, might I ask your name?”
The elven maiden, with graceful, fluid movements, abruptly stopped, her golden locks swaying gently. She slowly faced Shirley, her piercing blue eyes locking onto Shirley’s with intensity. The forest sounds seemed to fade during their eye contact. With a melodious yet assertive tone, she introduced herself, “I am known as Shireen among my kin. It would be wise to remember that.”
Shirley blinked in astonishment, taken aback by the sudden revelation.
…
In the midst of an engulfing darkness, shrouded by an eerie fog, the almost supernaturally quiet ship known as the “Vanished” floated. Inside, at the heart of the ship, Duncan was at the navigation desk, mid-conversation with the bizarre entity known as the “goat head.”
Abruptly, Duncan halted. He tilted his head, as if straining to hear a distant echo or recall a forgotten memory. His eyebrows knitted, and his gaze became introspective, lost in thought.
The “goat head,” an entity of few words and fewer emotions, remained unmoved by Duncan’s distraction. It waited, eyes impassive, exuding cold indifference. This peculiar creature, an ever-present entity aboard the “Vanished,” functioned like a semi-sentient oracle, responding to Duncan’s questions or comments.
Eventually, Duncan’s gaze settled back on the goat head after his brief distraction.
Despite numerous interactions and queries, the goat head remained cryptic about its statement: “Saslokha died a long time ago.” This phrase echoed repeatedly, like a broken record.
Driven by curiosity and concern, Duncan rose from his chair and approached a beautifully crafted oval mirror on a nearby wall.
As he moved, the goat head rotated, silently observing Duncan’s steps. The silence accompanying its watchful gaze sent shivers down his spine.
Though he had grown somewhat indifferent to the strange presence, Duncan focused on the mirror. He gingerly touched its ornate frame, and almost instantaneously, the image of Agatha shimmered into view.
Always alert, Duncan sensed the goat head’s continuous watchfulness from behind him. However, as Agatha’s reflection appeared, the goat head remained utterly still, as if blind to her existence.
Agatha, visible through the mirror, cautiously surveyed her surroundings. Once she deduced the goat head posed no immediate threat, she exhaled a subtle sigh of relief and acknowledged Duncan with a nod.
“We’ve come across an unexpected development,” Duncan began, his tone measured. “Shirley and Dog have stumbled upon another individual named Shireen in the forest.”
A look of surprise flashed across Agatha’s features. She quickly recomposed herself and asked, “And what of Miss Lucretia…?”
With a confirming nod, Duncan replied, “She remains in Shireen’s company.”
A heavy silence ensued, the weight of the revelations causing both to momentarily lose their words. The mirror, their sole means of communication, seemed to amplify the distance between them.
Finally, after gathering her composure, Agatha took a deep, steadying breath before breaking the stillness. “Captain,” she began, her voice firm yet tinged with urgency, “I’ve also unearthed some significant information on this end.”
Sensing the gravity of the situation, Duncan instinctively hushed his voice to a whisper, “What have you uncovered, Agatha?”
Within the reflective surface of the mirror, Agatha’s image seemed momentarily hesitant. She raised a slender hand and gently gestured towards a prominent wooden door nestled deep within the captain’s cabin, a door guarding the secrets of the captain’s private chambers.
“While you were engrossed in your exchange with the goat head, I navigated through the reflections of every mirror aboard the ‘Vanished,'” she began, her tone urgent. “Each mirror accurately portrayed their respective locations within the ship. Yet, when I reached this particular one,” she paused, eyes narrowing, “I encountered an uncanny barrier, something preventing my passage.”
Duncan’s eyes darted to the captain’s bedroom door. His usually calm demeanor was replaced by an edge, the weight of Agatha’s revelations etching furrows into his brow.
He took a moment to process the information, then decisively moved towards the door, his boots echoing softly on the wooden floor.
The goat head, resting on the navigation desk, began to stir. It creaked and contorted as if coming alive, its enigmatic eyes tracking Duncan’s every move.
Approaching the door, Duncan paused. He laid his hand on the ornate doorknob but hesitated to turn it immediately. Pivoting, he leveled a searching gaze on the inscrutable goat head. “What lies beyond this point?” he inquired authoritatively.
“I don’t know,” the goat head replied, its voice monotone, devoid of emotion.
Duncan pressed further, “Is it safe for me to venture inside?”
“I don’t know,” it echoed, caught in a repetitive trance.
Growing frustrated, Duncan pressed, “What fate awaits me within that room?”
“I don’t know.” The entity persisted in its cryptic chorus, offering no further clarity.
However, it made no move to hinder him.
Taking a deep breath, Duncan refocused on the door. With a resolute grip, he turned the handle and pushed it open.
He was greeted by a jarring, surreal vista. The room appeared to be a mesh of multiple dimensions as if countless realities had collided and fused. The space was awash with a chaotic mix of lines, patterns, and colors, swirling unpredictably.
Amidst this tumultuous labyrinth, Duncan discerned traces of familiar objects: remnants of a bed, fragments of a table, shards of windows, and segments of walls. Yet, their forms were grotesquely twisted, distorted as if seen through shattered glass or dreamt in delirium. The once orderly chamber now resembled an artist’s chaotic canvas, where logic and reason had been dismissed and imagination ran wild.
I wonder if it is a mixed up version of his apartment?
Or a remnant of confusion plaguing the original Duncan after the subspace dive? Something completely alien to the soul now inhabiting him under the same name.
I am surprised he couldn’t notice the abnormality last time. He checked “every nook” of the ship with his power. He did whatever he could, yet his flame were unable to notice it even when acting brazenly. Or perhaps, last time it wasn’t like this, and he would have noticed it if he was as forceful this time.
Almost 600 chapters in and we have no fucking clue what is happening.