Chapter 373

Chapter 373: “Go to Frostholm”

It was an island with a twisting shoreline and rocky cliffs. A layer of fog covered it, so they could not see what lay on it clearly. They could only vaguely make out the rising and falling terrain, and strange silhouettes hidden in the mist that looked like jagged rocks or collapsed buildings.

It had appeared very suddenly, as if it had popped into existence out of nowhere near the White Oak.

“What is that?” The first mate stared in shock at the island’s outline on the distant sea. The tense fear that had surged up when the idea of the Sun suddenly returned to him had not yet faded, and now another island had suddenly appeared. Even this old seafarer, who had dealt with the Boundless Sea for many years, had a slight tremor in his voice. “An island… Is there such an island near Frostholm? Is there one like that on our planned route?”

“There is no planned route anymore. The White Oak is sailing in a sea of Visions—we have left the Mortal Realm behind. Whatever we see is ‘normal’ now,” Lawrence’s steady voice came, carrying a strange power that calmed the heart. Though just a moment ago he had been shocked by the Sun’s disappearance, the old captain now seemed completely composed. “As for islands… There is a ‘Dagger Island’ near Frostholm, but I’m not sure this is it… It doesn’t quite match the identification chart.”

“What should we do?” The first mate turned to him. “Sail closer, or stay away?”

Lawrence fell silent, weighing things quickly in his mind.

The island had appeared all of a sudden, right after he and the first mate suddenly became aware of the idea of the Sun again. Was its appearance linked to that cognitive correction?

The island was wrapped in fog. Was that fog real, or was it an illusion born of warped perception?

Was the island fixed in place? Could the White Oak really get away from it? If its appearance was some kind of deliberate act, then no matter how the White Oak sailed, it might keep showing up ahead of the ship.

But no matter what, they should not rush toward it if they wanted to be cautious.

“Go around it,” Lawrence said in a deep voice. “Pass it on the left, full speed away.”

“Yes, Captain!”

The first mate hurried to the bridge. Moments later, a loud whistle echoed over the White Oak. Lawrence felt the ship under his feet begin to turn, and deep inside the hull the steam engine roared with surging power.

Many sailors had already noticed the island that had suddenly appeared. Some moved to the rail, staring nervously at the mist-shrouded land in the distance. Under the eyes of them all, the island slowly fell behind the White Oak and drifted farther away.

Lawrence let out a breath and turned to walk toward the bridge as well.

His steps suddenly stopped.

A figure had appeared in his field of view—a woman in a captain’s uniform, with slightly wavy long hair falling down her back. She stood with her arms crossed, a faint smile on her face.

“Do you remember what I told you?” the figure asked, her tone full of helplessness. “You really should retire. Don’t wait to regret it only after I show up on your ship… Lawrence, you’re already old.”

“Martha…” Lawrence blurted out the name. Then he quickly reached into his pocket, wanting to take out that vial of potion.

At the same time, shock filled his mind. Why so fast? Why had the potion’s effect faded so soon? It had been only a day since Martha last appeared… Had the potion’s duration become this short already?

His hand was shaking. His arm was shaking. He finally touched the vial, but just as he was about to open it, a hand suddenly rested on his arm.

At some point Martha had come to his side. She reached out, pressing down on the old captain’s arm, worry on her face.

“The medicine doesn’t work anymore. You know that, deep down,” Martha said softly. “If you drink it now, I’ll go away for a little while, then show up again. If you drink a whole bottle, I’ll be gone longer, but I’ll still come back… Lawrence, the medicine doesn’t work anymore.”

“I… I don’t understand…” Lawrence blinked in hesitation. He looked at the dearest face from his memories, but only felt a cold air spreading through his heart. “I know my condition. That psychiatrist is a skilled expert, so why…”

“Your mind is being affected, Lawrence. Haven’t you felt it? This sea is affecting you,” Martha said gently. It might have been Martha’s voice, or it might have been Lawrence’s own subconscious speaking. Clearly, somewhere deep down, the experienced old captain had already sensed a bit of the truth. “As you stay here, your mind is decaying faster. Be careful, Lawrence. You’re already in the middle of the sea…”

“How do I leave this place?” Lawrence asked without thinking. Without noticing it, he had loosened his grip on the vial.

The small bottle fell to the deck with a clear shattering sound. The half bottle of potion inside spilled out and mixed with the puddles on the deck until they were one and the same.

Lawrence lowered his head, staring blankly at the broken vial.

Martha still held his arm as she spoke softly: “Go to Frostholm…”

Lawrence jolted, as if waking from a dream. He raised his head, but no one stood beside him anymore—only a bit of lingering warmth remained on his arm.

A rush of footsteps suddenly sounded not far away. Lawrence looked up and saw the first mate striding toward him.

“Captain, we’ve already ‘shaken off’ that island,” the first mate said quickly. Then he looked up and glanced around curiously, as if searching for someone. “Where’s the person who was with you just now? Is she also one of the sailors on board?”

“You saw wrong, I’ve been alone…” Lawrence started to say this out of habit, but halfway through he stopped and snapped his head up, staring at the first mate. “What did you say? The person who was with me just now?!”

“Yes. She was standing next to you just now, looked like a lady—but I didn’t see her clearly,” the first mate said, sounding a bit confused. “Did I really see wrong?”

Lawrence’s eyes went wide, so wide that the first mate was almost frightened. After several seconds, the captain finally burst out: “You could see her?!”

The first mate swallowed hard. He had no idea why his captain was reacting like this. “…I really did see her.”

No sooner had he said this than the experienced seafarer seemed to think of something. His face tightened. “Wait, was that an illusion just now? Have I been affected?”

“It was an illusion… but in theory it should have been one only I could see.” Lawrence’s face looked unusually bad. He waved a hand, telling the other man not to panic too much, but his own mind was a mess. “It shouldn’t be like this. It shouldn’t…”

The old captain lifted his head and glanced around in a daze, as if still hoping to catch sight of Martha.

In his mind, everything seemed to have been stirred together—reality, illusions, memories, delusions…

Here, the Mortal Realm and all that was unreal seemed to have no boundaries at all. Illusions that should have been visible only to him now appeared before others as well. False things were becoming real. And the real ones?

Was this stretch of sea real? Was the White Oak real?

What in the world was this place?

Lawrence’s thoughts were in complete disarray, but suddenly a sailor’s shout came from somewhere on the deck, cutting off his wild thinking.

Someone on watch had found something on the sea.

Lawrence and the first mate exchanged a glance, then hurried toward the side rail. Soon they saw what had made the sailors cry out—

An island had appeared off the White Oak’s forward side. It had a twisting shoreline and tall stone cliffs, and the island was wrapped in mist…

The island had appeared again.

“…That island can move…” The first mate swallowed nervously as his worst guess became reality before his eyes. “It has caught up to us…”

“Or it might be that we’ve been circling in place all along, and this sea is filled with ‘the Veil’ that can briefly blind our sight,” Lawrence said in a low voice, his eyes fixed on the island. “It’s even possible that ‘Frostholm’ is right beside us at this very moment…”

The first mate shot the captain a startled look. He had no idea why the old man had suddenly brought up “Frostholm”, but he quickly steadied himself and asked: “Captain, what do we do this time? Go around it again?”

Lawrence fell silent again, thinking fast.

Martha’s soft words beside his ear still echoed in his mind—

“Go to Frostholm.”

That island was certainly not the city-state of Frostholm, but it kept appearing near the White Oak. Perhaps that in itself was a kind of “guidance”.

Not long ago, he had led the White Oak in a hurried “escape” from the strangely unsettling city-state of Frostholm, only to become trapped in this unfamiliar sea. And now, “Martha” was guiding him again, telling him to “go to Frostholm”.

In front of him, an even more eerie island had appeared—twice now it had suddenly shown up beside the White Oak.

What choice was the right one?

“…We sail toward that island.”