Chapter 382

Chapter 382: Flames Flared Up.

Lawrence ran at full speed, yet he still could not help turning his head to look toward the direction of Martha’s voice.

However, he saw nothing but the lingering thick fog over Dagger Island. The voice seemed to ring straight in his mind, urging him again and again to leave the island, to return to the White Oak, to leave this place and go to Frostholm.

Martha was of course not here.

But Lawrence still felt it was some kind of unseen guidance. Maybe it came from his faith. Maybe it came from his subconscious, from clues and instincts he had never noticed. They pushed him toward a way out of this trap.

He ran toward the harbor. Cold wind and fog slapped his face and howled past his ears. His first mate and the sailors surrounded him. Gunfire still rolled from far away. Some blasts came from the distant shore guns, and some from the light escort cannons mounted on the White Oak. The White Oak’s return fire sounded weak compared to the enemy’s attack. It was clearly at a disadvantage.

“Martha” had told him the Sea Swallow was here. But which ship was the Sea Swallow?

The harbor came into view. At the far edge of the fog, the graceful hull of the White Oak still lay moored at the end of the pier. Bursts of fire flashed again and again at her bow and stern. Each cannon blast tore the mist apart. Out on the nearby sea, huge columns of water rose into the air from time to time. That was clearly the enemy’s bombardment.

“The ship is still there!” The first mate shouted with joy when he saw the White Oak. He called out for the captain and also to rally the gasping sailors: “Jason didn’t abandon us!”

Jason was the ship’s second mate.

“Storm Goddess above! Get aboard and get out of this cursed place!” a sailor yelled. “The White Oak is just sitting here as a target!”

The group rushed toward the White Oak. Figures moved on the ship. The seafarers left on watch had clearly seen the captain’s party returning. A rope ladder dropped from the rail. Two sailors at the edge of the deck raised consecrated lanterns and waved them anxiously in the air.

The sailors who had gone ashore sprinted toward the rope ladder.

But suddenly, Lawrence stopped. He yanked out his revolver and fired into the sky: “Stop, all of you!”

The sailors froze at the gunshot and at the captain’s shout. Shocked and confused, they stopped and turned to stare at one another. First Mate Gus also stopped and looked at the old captain, puzzled. Less than a second later, the experienced seafarer understood why the captain had suddenly ordered them to halt.

The first mate panted for breath. Amid the endless thunder of the guns, he lifted his head and looked around. His gaze swept quickly over the sailors around him and over Lawrence.

Sixteen sailors stood around him, looking lost. Every face looked familiar. Captain Lawrence watched them with a grave expression.

“How many people did we bring when we set out?” Lawrence asked quickly.

“Besides you and me, there were…” The first mate started fast, but his mind went blank when he reached the number. He paused for a second or two, then remembered. “Twelve sailors!”

Lawrence’s gaze grew heavier as he looked over the group, counting them one by one in his mind.

Deep in his pupils, a faint green light seemed to flicker on and off.

“There are four extra,” the first mate said after finishing his own count. The old seafarer’s face turned very serious. He raised his gun and fired into the air, then shouted: “Everyone, spread out one meter apart! Face the captain! Keep your hands where we can see them!”

The sailors also realized what was happening. Their faces tightened with fear. But they had dealt with the Boundless Sea for many years and were experienced seafarers. They knew what to do at a time like this. Under the first mate’s orders, the sixteen sailors quickly spread out into a line.

The guns on the White Oak kept firing. More and more columns of water rose around the harbor. The enemy called the Sea Swallow seemed to be drawing closer. Lawrence’s thoughts boiled in the roar of the cannons.

They could not stay here. The White Oak was a sitting target in the harbor. Its weak self-defense guns and hull would not last long. But he could not take this group back on board either, because some “things” from the island had clearly slipped into their ranks. If he brought them back, the White Oak would not end any better than being sunk by artillery.

His gaze swept over the sixteen sailors in front of him as he tried hard to spot any strange or out-of-place face. When had the four extra people slipped in? While they crossed the thick fog? In the harbor office? Or in that moment on the island when the explosions went off and the group fell into brief chaos?

The sailors also looked one another over. In that moment, it felt as if no one was trustworthy anymore. Even their own memories and judgment seemed doubtful.

“Captain.” Gus’s voice reached Lawrence’s ears. The old seafarer’s face showed a grim resolve. “The White Oak can’t stay here any longer. You should get on board.”

Lawrence’s face suddenly grew extremely serious. “What do you mean?”

“You take the ship and leave. The rest of us will stay. We will slowly find a way to pick out whatever slipped in and deal with it. When you are safe, you can come back for us…”

Lawrence stared into the first mate’s eyes, his expression dark and silent.

That talk about coming back for them once it was safe fooled no one.

Once the White Oak left the harbor, anyone left on the island would be abandoned for good. The strange events here were plain to see. In such a short time, four unknown “things” had slipped into their ranks. What else could come from staying?

“Don’t rush to sacrifice yourselves,” Lawrence said softly. Suddenly he remembered something, and his eyes changed. “Humans have only two eyes…”

His gaze stopped on one sailor.

Then on a second, a third, and a fourth.

One of the sailors pointed at himself in surprise. He blinked his eyes, then blinked his third and fourth eyes as well. “Don’t I have two eyes?”

Lawrence said nothing. He simply raised his revolver.

The second to raise his gun was First Mate Gus. Then the other sailors seemed to wake from a dream.

It felt as if they had all stepped through a Veil. As the cognitive interference clouding their minds broke, they stared in shock and fear at the figures standing among their ranks, the ones that only looked like humans. One by one, they raised their pistols and rifles.

The four not-quite-human “sailors” were surrounded. They stood there in confusion. Then their expressions turned dull and blank.

It was as if the temporary, copied minds inside them had been struck and shattered. The not-quite-human replicas swayed and looked up one by one at their “captain.”

Lawrence could only let out a long sigh: “You are not members of my crew.”

The next second, under his own stunned gaze, he saw a tuft of pale green fire suddenly bloom in the air.

At first it was only a few sparks. They flickered into view between the twelve real sailors like sparks between the poles of an electrical device. In an instant, those sparks exploded and grew into great sheets of flame. The ghostly green fire of spirit form burned fiercely among the men and then lunged toward the four dazed replicas like a predator that had smelled prey.

The flames roared and crackled. The four replicas thrashed in the blaze, but they had no time even to scream. They turned into patches of black dust, the ash left after burning. It faintly looked like the black sludge they had seen earlier on the slope by the harbor, but it was drier and more powdery.

The sailors were terrified. The instant the spirit form flames ignited, everyone from the White Oak remembered scenes of past horror. They remembered the moment of terror when they met the Vanished on the Boundless Sea. They remembered the shocking sight of a city melted by fire in Pland. They knew this fire far too well.

Why was this fire here?

Was Captain Duncan nearby?

But just as that frightening guess burst in each of their hearts and the sailors began to panic, the fire suddenly went out. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared. When the four replicas turned to ash, the ghostly green spirit form flames disappeared without a trace.

What remained were a group of shaken, terrified sailors, a first mate struck dumb, and an old captain who really felt he should have retired long ago.

“Wh… what was that just now?” First Mate Gus turned his head with effort and swallowed hard. “Captain, that fire, it looked like…”

“It was the Vanished’s power. The Vanished…” Lawrence swallowed and suddenly looked up toward the sea, as if trying to spot that ghost ship. But he saw only the White Oak, still wrapped in thunderous gunfire. The sailors who had been waving the consecrated lanterns at the rail were nowhere to be seen. Everyone had probably already thrown themselves into the battle.

The seafarers on the White Oak were fighting with all their might, buying time for the captain’s group to board.

The Vanished was not here, but Captain Duncan’s fire had appeared before them all.

“Do not panic,” Lawrence said quickly, trying to calm the sailors. “We have already met the Vanished once. The city-state of Pland was even saved by that ship. It might not be a bad thing. Haven’t you heard the rumor? They say Captain Duncan Abnomar has already found his humanity again…”

The first mate made a small gesture of prayer to the Storm Goddess, then asked: “Captain, then should we go back to the ship now?”

“…Go back. Quickly. Before more strange things slip in.”