Deep Sea Embers chapter 635 – Bcat00 Translation

Chapter 635: “Restoration”

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.

The fierce winds swept across the vast desert with an intensity Vanna had never witnessed. They howled and shrieked, rushing over high sand dunes and jagged, oddly-shaped rocks. As the winds intensified, they lifted countless grains of sand, creating swirling spirals that shot upwards. In the distance, a colossal wall of sand loomed, casting a menacing, earthy yellow shadow. It seemed as if this enormous sandstorm had the power to engulf the entire world.

Yet, amidst this wild sandstorm, Vanna and the giant found themselves in a surprisingly peaceful spot. The swirling sand seemed to avoid them, creating a calm area much like the eye of a storm.

Vanna looked around in astonishment, overwhelmed by the sudden change in her surroundings. Her eyes widened as she saw the daunting sandstorm in the distance. It appeared impenetrable and almost otherworldly, prompting her to exclaim, “What is that?”

Beside her, the giant, wearing a tattered robe, gazed at her with calm, wise eyes. “It’s a storm, traveler,” he said softly, his voice filled with meaning. “A storm that, knowingly or not, you have started.”

Confused, Vanna looked up at him, seeking clarification. “How did I trigger such a thing?”

The giant, cutting through her confusion, replied, “Perhaps you haven’t yet, but it’s inevitable. Time here shifts erratically. Do you feel it? This world, after ages of dormancy, is waking up. A rock long buried under the sands is ready to move again.”

As Vanna tried to understand his cryptic words, the giant gestured for her to hold her questions. “Don’t delve too deeply right now, Traveler. As this world nears a pivotal moment, the more you know, the deeper the desert will grip your soul. I don’t want to see you lost here.”

It was then that Vanna noticed a change in the giant. His eyes emitted a faint yellow glow, reflecting deep sorrow. The god-like figure, who seemed to have forgotten his own history, was saying farewell.

“Come, Traveler,” the giant invited softly, “join me once more as we complete our joint quest.”

Surprised by his sudden urgency, Vanna quickly followed him, asking, “Where are we going? What has come undone here?”

“We’re headed to the ‘great pit’,” the giant answered, his voice heavy with emotion as memories surfaced. “It holds what I’ve been searching for… and perhaps, it also holds the answers you seek.”

As the sandstorm intensified, the figures of Vanna and the giant blurred, merging into the endless golden expanse of the desert.

…

As the sun neared the horizon in its fiery descent, it cast a soft amber glow over the vast, seemingly infinite sea. Above the water, a radiant geometric shape shimmered, casting brilliant light that played with the gentle ripples of the sea, extending endlessly in every direction.

Where the bustling port city of Wind Harbor once stood, there was now only emptiness. In its place, a spectacular vision unfolded. Numerous ghostly, filament-like figures resembling the essence of life rose majestically from the depths. These ethereal strands intertwined, linking the heavens and the sea, forming a colossal shadow shaped like a tree, dwarfing even sprawling cities in its immensity.

As time passed, each whisper of the wind and each rhythmic wave added to its trunk and expanded its vast canopy, growing so immense in the ambient light that even the grand ark of the distant church seemed no more than a small boat against the tree’s grandeur.

Maintaining a safe distance from Atlantis, the esteemed Academy of Truth fleet had retreated. The formidable ark and its fleet now lingered just outside the expansive shadow of the tree.

However, not all had left. Deep within the dark expanse beneath the sprawling canopy of the phantom tree, a ghostly sailboat enveloped in eerie blue flames sailed purposefully toward the tree’s base. The semi-transparent sails of the Vanished, filled with an unseen force, propelled it closer to the monumental World Tree. Amid the fiery glow, the massive spectral ship groaned and creaked, each sound resonating with its struggle against a powerful unseen adversary.

A fierce confrontation began as the Vanished approached within twelve nautical miles of the tree’s massive trunk. Monstrous waves surged from the direction of Atlantis, forming a formidable storm. Wave after massive wave assaulted the ship, relentlessly slamming its bow and frequently washing over the deck. Simultaneously, intimidating roars and mournful howls emanated from the tree’s heart, each sound filled with a fierce determination to destroy the spectral vessel daring to approach.

The water and the tree radiated resistance, anger, and a palpable fury. Apparently, Atlantis was perturbed by the ship’s presence. The spectral craft, formed from her very branches and reborn on the legendary backbone of Saslokha, stirred in her feelings of bewilderment, anger, and an unsettling dread.

Despite the chaos outside, the ship’s cabin remained eerily calm and unaffected.

Inside, Duncan made his way down the steps through dimly lit, sprawling corridors that seemed to stretch endlessly. He passed ancient, crooked staircases showing the scars of time and navigated expansive storage rooms illuminated by enigmatic lights that cast strange, shifting patterns on the walls. The old cabins he passed occasionally creaked as if sharing their long-held secrets. He descended deeper into the ship’s heart.

Holding a lantern in one hand, casting an eerie greenish glow, and a peculiar piece of squared timber from Pland in the other, Duncan felt the wood pulse gently with warmth, resonating as if attuned to some mysterious force.

Agatha’s voice suddenly cut through the gloom, urgent: “The ocean outside is in chaos. Atlantis is doing everything in its power to thwart the Vanished’s advance.”

From deep within the ship, Duncan replied with a hint of amusement, “Down here, it’s like a peaceful sanctuary. The insulation in this part of the ship works wonders.”

Agatha, sounding both concerned and amused, responded, “Alice has tied Lune to a post with ropes. She’s worried the ship’s movements might hurt the old man. Despite his frail state, she wouldn’t listen to any arguments. She took pride in her maritime experience and claimed it was for the best.”

Shrugging, Duncan said, “If it brings her peace of mind,” pausing before adding, “Are the ropes enjoying their newfound purpose?”

Agatha’s laughter echoed softly, “Given that they’ve had the honor to secure a Pope, I’d think they’re rather pleased.”

“Excellent,” Duncan responded curtly as he approached and opened a door, revealing the ship’s innermost chamber.

Here, despite the raging tempest above, this part of the ship, partly submerged in the realm of subspace, was a tranquil oasis. Remnants of the shattered hull hovered weightlessly, surrounded by brilliant streams of luminescence flowing from subspace through the gaping fractures. This state had persisted for over a century, unchanged even after a hundred years.

Duncan positioned himself at the center of this cavernous room, next to the most prominent fissure. As Agatha materialized beside him, she whispered with evident concern, “Are you sure about this?”

Duncan took a moment to admire the mesmerizing lights dancing beneath his feet before replying: “The foundational structure of the ‘Vanished’ was originally made from the limbs of Atlantis, but it was later replaced by Saslokha’s legendary spine. With the mystic abilities of the ‘King of Dreams,’ this ship, once lost to subspace, transitioned from reality to a dream state. In many ways, the Vanished shares a soul with Atlantis,” he explained.

He gently placed the squared timber on the ground, aligning it with the fracture.

“Shifting between dreams and memories, Saslokha not only created Atlantis but also reshaped the Vanished. It drew on its vast store of recollections. Yet, its true dilemma is that it has forgotten its very essence. It doesn’t even recognize its own dreams,” he added.

Duncan reached out with a trembling hand and gently touched the surface of the wooden block. The moment his finger made contact, a ghostly green flame sparked to life at one corner of the wood. Quickly, the flame enveloped the block, casting it in an otherworldly glow. The once-solid block now appeared almost as a mirage, reflecting Duncan’s own spectral state with its transparent and illusory presence.

“Saslokha has always been known as the original ‘Dreamless One.’ But sometimes, the most heretical theories reveal the simplest truths,” Duncan mused aloud.

Then, with a swift movement, he kicked the blazing wooden block into the gaping chasm that opened into subspace.

As the block plunged into the shimmering sea of lights and inky darkness below, a distant, eerie creaking sound began to echo through the vast chamber, reverberating off its ancient walls.

“To truly delve into the depths of Atlantis’s dream, we don’t need to awaken her. Atlantis is already conscious; she needs no awakening,” Duncan declared, his voice filled with conviction. “Our true mission is to awaken the dormant consciousness of Saslokha, that majestic spine submerged in subspace. We must bridge the gap in communication between Saslokha and Atlantis and, after countless eras, enlighten the ‘Dreamless One’ about the existence of its own dreams.”

The eerie creaking noise grew to an almost unbearable crescendo. Suddenly, tendrils of the same ghostly green flame burst forth from the many fissures and cracks in the ship’s hull.

These supernatural flames spread quickly, engulfing every part of the ship. As they blazed their path, the monumental cracks began to heal themselves. The shattered skeleton of the ship started to reassemble, piece by piece, as if guided by an unseen hand. The very foundation of the Vanished was beginning to reconnect.

As the process culminated, Duncan’s gaze was fixed on the largest fissure. Through it, he saw a vision that left him breathless.

The heart of the Vanished, a gargantuan, ageless spine of a forgotten deity suspended in subspace, now sprouted vibrant green branches that intertwined and rejuvenated as the flames made contact.

“And thus, two legacies merge into one,” Duncan whispered in awe.

As the final breach sealed, Duncan looked at the now-complete base of the ship and mentally called out, “Saslokha.”

A deep, resonant voice that resembled Goathead’s responded, “I stand ready, Captain.”

“Chart our course forward. It’s time to locate your offspring.”

“Aye, Captain!” The response echoed with a sense of renewed purpose.