Chapter 309

Chapter 309: Dog’s rotten Luck

This time Duncan really stayed stunned for several seconds before he understood what Dog meant – not because he did not understand the words, but because he needed a moment to digest this shocking fact.

“Are you sure?” He picked up the little gray-black chunk of flesh with faint blue in it from the metal case and squeezed it between his fingers. “This thing is a part of the Abyssal Lord?”

“You… you are still squeezing it?!” Dog’s voice went sharp as he watched Duncan’s far-too-relaxed actions. “Do you not feel the vast pressure and power coming off it at all?”

“No,” Duncan shook his head, then added, “And it is not just me. Vanna and Morris did not react much either. They only felt that it was dangerous or unsettling, but nothing like what you are doing.”

As Duncan spoke, Dog had already crouched low to the floor without noticing. He lay beside the desk in a pose of total alertness. The blood-red glow in his eyes flickered brighter and dimmer. After a long time, he muttered: “It does seem to have lost its vitality… or maybe you are suppressing its vitality, but I cannot tell. I am a Abyssal demon. I have an inseparable link with the Abyssal Lord. In my eyes… there is only endless shadow and pressure.”

“It is probably related to your nature,” Duncan said as he snapped the tobacco case shut and casually put it back into his pocket. He noticed Dog relax a lot as he did. “I will put it away first. You might feel a bit better that way.”

“Th-thank you, Captain,” Dog finally stopped shaking quite so hard. He wobbled to his feet but still looked badly shaken, his eyes fixed on Duncan’s pocket. “You just said… that flesh was brought out from the deepest part of the Obsidian?”

“Yes. And it came from the mouth of a mortal,” Duncan said with a soft sigh. He told them what had happened after Dog and Shirley were sent back to the Vanished. “We found this sample of flesh in Cristo Barbelli’s mouth.”

After hearing the full story, Dog’s shock was written all over his face.

He lifted his head and met Shirley’s eyes. For half a minute, neither of them spoke. After who knew how long, Shirley finally smacked her lips and broke the silence: “So you are saying… that captain named Cristo… bit off a piece of flesh from a deity before he died… By the way, does the Abyssal Lord count as a deity?”

“For mortals, there is no difference. ‘Like a deity’ is a very broad concept,” Dog said slowly, his tone serious, shaking his head. “I… still cannot believe it. I cannot imagine how he did it. Mortals in front of the Abyssal Lord do not even have the strength to move a finger, let alone fight back or resist… And besides, how did he even see the Abyssal Lord?”

“Did the Obsidian once enter the Abyssal Deep’s Deep Sea?” Duncan frowned at once. “After she sank off Frostholm’s coast, she did not simply keep sinking in the Mortal Realm’s Deep Sea, but was teleported away? Or… is the Deep Sea beneath Frostholm actually connected to the realm of the Abyssal demons?”

“I do not think that is possible,” Dog said at once, shaking his head hard. “I have never heard of any place in the Abyssal Deep’s Deep Sea being directly linked to the Mortal Realm’s dimension. If there really was a leak between those two places, in six years the city-state of Frostholm would already have been torn apart by the demons pouring out. The Obsidian sank six years ago.”

Duncan thought for a moment.

But he had far too little information now. No matter how much he tried to reason it out, it was hard to find a convincing explanation.

Only one thing was certain: the piece of “flesh” brought out from the Obsidian was quite dangerous. It was best not to take it out casually.

Of course, he had thought about burning it at once or loading it into the Vanished’s main gun and firing it into the distance. From the feedback he felt when he touched the flesh, Duncan believed this thing could also be used as “extraordinary firewood” and burned up by spirit flame. But after a short weighing of the options, he still decided to keep it for now.

In case it turned out to be useful one day.

As he thought, Duncan’s attention returned to Dog.

The Abyssal Hound had calmed down a bit. He was now purposely not thinking about the “Lord’s flesh”. He already looked much better.

“Are the other Abyssal demons like you?” Duncan asked.

“Huh?” Dog did not react at first. “You mean…”

“Abyssal demons all come from the ‘Lord’. You told me before that powerful Abyssal demons even live right beside the Lord,” Duncan said, his gaze resting on the blood-red eyes in Dog’s sockets. “But you react like this when you get close to the Abyssal Lord’s presence. Then how do you all usually live beside the Lord? Do you just shake like that every day?”

Dog froze. He clearly had not expected the captain’s imagination to jump that far, or in such detail. But after a brief silence, he still shook his head and admitted: “Normal Abyssal demons… would not react like I do.”

“Oh?”

“Sanity is the precondition of madness,” Dog sighed. “Only those with wisdom understand fear. Only those with humanity can tell human from beast. I turned away from the ‘path’ of normal Abyssal demons, so I lost the right to stay near the Abyssal Lord.”

Shirley blinked, then suddenly realized something: “Dog, did you just say something really deep and meaningful?!”

“Sanity is the precondition of madness…” Duncan ignored Shirley’s loud exclamation and only repeated the words under his breath, thoughtful. “So now you cannot return to your ‘homeland’, but you also cannot cut off your link to the Abyssal Lord. You can no longer get close to the Lord’s presence, yet you are extremely sensitive to that presence?”

Dog hugged his head and sighed: “…That is about right.”

“Then you really are unlucky.”

Dog sounded close to tears: “Under normal circumstances, no one would suddenly wave a piece of the Lord’s flesh in front of me and squeeze it, okay… This is supposed to be the safe, stable Mortal Realm dimension!”

“That really was my mistake,” Duncan said, apologizing with genuine sincerity. “I did not think of it before.”

“No, no, no, please do not apologize to me!” Dog was startled and scrambled under the desk. “If you just toss out an apology, Subspace might latch onto me again…”

“…All right,” Duncan said, stunned for a moment before a strange smile came to his face. He shook his head and turned to leave. “Then I will not bother you. Keep reading.”

Shirley hurried to her feet to see him out, but Duncan suddenly stopped again and turned back to look at her.

“You should learn from Dog. He can already read primary school stories. You still spell your own name wrong three times out of five. Do you not feel embarrassed?”

Shirley answered without shame: “Dog is a demon who chases knowledge. Of course he learns fast! How can I compare to him?”

“First, that is not how you use the phrase ‘chases knowledge’. Second, even if Dog is a demon who chases knowledge, you do not have to walk in circles around knowledge all day,” Duncan said, sounding a bit helpless. “In a few days I have to arrange an exam for you two. I want to see how much you have actually learned.”

After leaving those words, he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

After he waited at the door for a few seconds, Shirley’s wail of despair and string of curses rang out, just as he had expected.

A cheerful smile appeared on Duncan’s face.

He set off toward the captain’s cabin.

…

Night grew deeper.

In the Sea Mist Fleet’s home port – sealed and hidden by fog, drifting ice, and strange, chaotic currents – Tyrian walked slowly along a small road by the edge of the docks.

The cold night wind blew in from the sea. The sound of waves breaking on the shore rose and fell. The cold, dim glow of the World’s Wound soaked the whole island, and from somewhere far off in the air came the faint roar of a noisy gathering in the harbor square.

The sailors were holding a party. They used wine, tobacco, and loud instruments to drive away the hollowness left in the world by the dead, and they used a whole night of noise to burn off their cold, endless energy. But for Tyrian, such gatherings were still too noisy.

They were not good for calm thinking.

Another set of footsteps followed behind him.

It was his loyal first mate, Aiden. Right now, he still smelled like a strip of bacon, but now there were hints of cinnamon and clove mixed in.

The smell made Tyrian sigh to himself. People from Pland really had a lot of tricks when it came to tobacco.

“You can go join the party in the square,” Tyrian said suddenly. “You do not have to walk with me in this quiet place.”

“I am waiting for the second half of the night,” Aiden said. “They invited twelve Bardica dancers from Cold Harbor – they have real stamina.”

“…”

“Captain?”

“In weather this cold, they are coming to dance on an island full of Living dead pirates, and in the middle of the night, no less. Be honest. What kind of damned price did you people offer them?”

“Actually, not that much,” Aiden said, rubbing his shiny bald head with a grin. “When the Sea Crow went out on business last week, she happened to rescue the ship of ‘Scimitar Martin’. You know, Martin controls a quarter of the theaters and troupes in Cold Harbor…”

Tyrian: “…”

The commander of the Sea Mist Fleet stood in the night wind for a few seconds in silence, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then let his expression return to normal.

“Let us talk about the situation on Dagger Island instead.”

“Yes, Captain.”