Chapter 100

Chapter 100: Illusion and Reality in History

“Captain, are you sure this is really okay?” Alice watched the “little flame” in Duncan’s hand with deep worry. Both her hands kept tugging at the lace on the hem of her dress. “Don’t burn my house down…”

Duncan held a cluster of spirit form fire in his palm. While he searched for a place to start on Alice’s spirit coffin, he glanced back at the Doll with a helpless look and said: “My spirit form fire is completely under control—do you not trust my power?”

As soon as Alice heard that, she started waving her hands: “I do, I do…”

Only then did Duncan look away and steady himself.

With the current conditions on the Vanished, it was almost impossible to run a full set of tests on Alice’s spirit coffin. But that did not mean he could not at least do some “preliminary research”. Now that he had grown more and more skilled at controlling the spirit form fire, he had faintly grasped a way to use this flame to probe the inner secrets of supernatural objects.

He still did not dare use this flame on Alice’s body. But if it was only to study her wooden box… that was another story.

After making some preparations, Duncan finally reached out his hand and stretched the little flame at his fingertip toward the surface of the ornate wooden box.

The flame sank into the box in silence, like an unreal reflection. Alice stared with wide eyes, watching every tiny change in front of her. After two or three seconds of stillness, she saw phantom-like light spread through her field of vision—

The spirit form fire started to burn on the box, burning from the inside out! In the blink of an eye, the whole box took on a half-transparent look. In this strange, half-real scene, the blazing flames raced through every detail inside the box, as if they were rebuilding its “skeleton”!

“Hey, Captain, Captain, it’s on fire, it’s on fire!”

The Doll cried out in panic, but her shouting got no answer. Duncan had already put all his focus into controlling the flame and sensing the spirit coffin. With a solemn expression, he fixed his gaze on the dancing fire and the unreal wooden box in front of him. Alice’s voice in his ears sounded faint and distant, as if it came from another world.

Duncan’s mind slowly calmed down. He felt the world around him grow quieter and quieter. Even the endless wind and waves of the Boundless Sea seemed to drift far from his senses. He felt his power seep into a vast “place”, and more and more “perceptions” flowed into his mind through the channel the flame had opened—

This feeling was completely different from when he had used the fire to reshape the Sun charm amulet before!

If he had to compare, using the flame on the Sun charm amulet had felt as easy as filling a cup of water. But now he felt his fire surging nonstop into a great lake. The sizes were not on the same level at all.

So this was the gap between mass-produced supernatural items and an Anomaly ranked 099?

Understanding flashed through Duncan’s heart. In that instant, he suddenly felt the connection through the flame reach a peak. The flow of power became as smooth as a river. Right after that, a flood of “memories” rushed into his mind!

The sound of waves… Waves crashing on a strange shore. A cold wind blowing past tall walls. Massive walls stood in the distance, dim and blurry as if frozen in ice. And people… a swaying, dark crowd where he could only see outlines…

Duncan’s view floated at some point in the air, about two or three meters above the ground. He looked around in shock, but saw only an unfamiliar city-state and a high platform on the shore. Around the platform gathered countless black shapes. They looked like a crowd of people, vague and flickering, but he could not see a single face clearly.

A loud droning hum came from every direction. It sounded like people whispering and talking, yet it was strangely loud and noisy. Duncan tried to pick out the words. In the end he found it was not people talking at all, but countless “voices of the heart”—chaotic thoughts in their minds, muttered words under tense, heavy air, prayers to a God, and pleas spoken in fear.

Those “shadows” did not open their mouths, yet their voices swept over the platform on the shore like a storm.

Duncan’s heart stirred. He suddenly turned his head.

In the pale and dim sky far away, he saw a tall shape.

A guillotine—its sharp blade gleamed with cold light in the gloom.

With the little historical knowledge in his mind, and by linking it to the origin of Anomaly 099, Duncan realized where he was.

He looked under the guillotine. As his understanding settled, a blurry figure beneath the blade quickly became clear.

He saw the Queen. The Frostholm Queen who had been executed by rebels half a century ago. Her silver hair hung like a waterfall, and her pale violet eyes still shone bright in the dimness. She wore a dress that looked a bit too thin for the cold wind, yet she gritted her teeth and did not let her body tremble at all.

She really did have the exact same face as Alice.

Something strange rose in Duncan’s heart. He looked at the lady whose face was exactly the same as Alice’s. Even though he knew this was the “real one” recorded in history, he still could not help but first picture the lively Doll on the ship in his mind. The next second, a voice suddenly came from nowhere and cut off his thoughts—

“Your time is up, Frostholm ‘queen’.”

The voice was cold and distant, yet it echoed beside the guillotine as if it had pierced the Veil of history.

In the next moment, two phantom figures suddenly appeared beside the guillotine. They walked to the Frostholm Queen, as if to push down her arms and force her to kneel under the blade. But the Queen’s posture did not move at all. Her figure stood firm, while those two tall phantoms were as weak and powerless as children.

Duncan heard the noisy sound around him grow even more violent than before. Countless black shadows started to sway. Here and there, some clear shouts mixed into the chaos. That same cold and distant voice rang out again, this time with a bit of anger: “Silence! Keep order on the execution ground!”

More phantom figures appeared around the guillotine. The Frostholm Queen was finally forced down beneath that cold instrument of death. She knelt in the freezing dust, yet still raised her head and calmly fixed her gaze on the tall walls of the distant city-state. Above her neck, the heavy, sharp blade began to rise, ratcheting upward with the squeak of a winch…

Duncan frowned. Even though he knew this was only an illusion recorded by history, when he saw “Alice’s” face, he still stepped forward without thinking, reaching out his hand…

But just as he moved, the Frostholm Queen under the guillotine turned her head a little. She looked toward where Duncan was floating, looking straight at the place that should have been empty in her own time and space. She opened her mouth and spoke, clear yet soft:

“Whoever you are, please do not corrupt history.”

Duncan stopped in shock. Right after that, he was even more shocked to hear someone beside the guillotine cry out: “Who are you talking to?!”

The Frostholm Queen had already looked away. She seemed to suddenly understand something. A faint, relieved smile appeared on her once-cold face. She turned her head, as if speaking to the executioner next to her: “Do it, before the Sun sets.”

The guillotine dropped.

Boundless darkness surged in from all directions. The illusion of history tore into scattered pieces of light. Duncan felt his link with “this place” weaken fast. He knew this “echo” had reached its end. As the scene kept breaking and falling away, he still heard some broken, messy voices. They came and went, now near, now far. He could only make out a few fragments—

“…The Frostholm Queen is dead. We have cut off the channel for the Vanished to return to the Mortal Realm…”

“…Ray Nora tried to build a second Vanished… She colluded with the Shadows of Subspace. The evidence is ironclad. Death is too light a sentence for her…”

“…The new Governor will soon restore order. All documents related to the Abyss Exploration Project will be destroyed… Those who report others actively still have a chance at mercy…”

“Pursue the rebel ship the Sea Mist and the mutinous navy with all our strength… their lives or deaths do not matter… Wait, what is that sound… Get out, this place is going to collapse!”

Cries of shock, shouts, the huge cracking roar of massive things breaking and falling, the howling rush of great waves…

Duncan tore free from the endless darkness, as if surfacing from a Deep Dive. At the very end of that darkness, what he heard was a chain of thunderous crashes, as if a whole cliff had crumbled off the coast into the sea.

He had witnessed a piece of history with his own eyes, and then heard that history fall into the void in the dark.

He had seen a phantom inside history, and that phantom had asked him not to corrupt history.

He slowly opened his eyes and saw the familiar cabin. He heard the familiar sound of waves. He also saw the familiar Doll sitting on the edge of the bed, happily playing by pulling her head off with a “pop” and then pushing it back on with another “pop”.

Duncan: “…?”