Chapter 409

Chapter 409: Twins

Amid the roar of gunfire, that strange twin ghost ship had cut straight across the fight and thundered past right under the eyes of both sides. Forget the crew of the Sea Mist—Tyrian even felt that the replica warships deep in the fog had all frozen in place for a few seconds.

Then he heard Aiden’s voice beside him: “C-captain, that thing that just rushed past seemed to come out of the fog too. Do we… shoot it?”

On the bridge, every pair of eyes turned toward their captain, because the words he had just spoken still rang in all their minds:

Once the battle began, everything new that appeared in this sea would be an enemy.

“…Shoot my ass!” After a few painfully awkward seconds of silence, Tyrian finally glared and snapped, “Can you even catch up to it?! And did you not see that ship’s reflection in the sea?”

Aiden shrank his neck at once, a strip of light flashing across his bare scalp. He spoke in a hesitant voice: “I saw it. That reflection… it looked wrapped in spirit flame.”

As soon as the First Mate finished speaking, a low rumble came from deep within the Sea Mist’s hull, and the whistle above the deck suddenly blared. This former Vanished Fleet flagship, reshaped by supernatural powers, seemed to be responding on its own, confirming the First Mate’s judgment.

“Even the ship felt it,” Aiden said, looking around and then turning a complicated gaze to Tyrian. “Captain, what do you think that ship was?”

“…Perhaps it was Father’s doing,” Tyrian said in a low voice, his expression grave. “Don’t dig into it. Keep fighting. Also notify all friendly forces, including the Frostholm Navy, not to block that strange… forget it. At that speed, I doubt they could anyway…”

Before he finished, the seaman monitoring the radio suddenly received a message. The man stood up and reported loudly: “Captain! The Frostholm Navy cruiser Sea Hawk just sent word. A ghost ship of strange shape and incredible speed just shot past their bow, heading straight for Frostholm Island. They’re asking if it is ours.”

Tyrian pressed his fingers hard against his brow, then waved his hand after a moment. “We can’t mention anything about the Vanished to them. Just say it’s a friendly ship and give no further explanation. Once the battle settles a little, I’ll go ask ‘him’ myself.”

“Yes, Captain!”

The cannons kept roaring. The fire and explosions in the fog did not quiet at all because of this brief interlude. Between the towering columns of water rising in the distance, Tyrian’s thoughtful gaze pierced the mist over the battlefield as he silently looked toward the direction where that strange ship had gone.

…

“I think we almost rammed into something just now!”

Lawrence hurried from the porthole back to his desk and spoke loudly to a Pocket Mirror sitting on the tabletop. Then he anxiously glanced outside again. The sea beyond the porthole looked dim and hazy, as if countless shadowy, unreal things were floating on the surface, making it impossible to tell what was real and what was only a phantom.

And the White Oak itself was racing through those phantoms at an astonishing speed.

Black mist rippled across the mirror’s surface, and within the fog appeared a female Adventurer wearing a captain’s uniform.

“We didn’t ram anything,” Martha said with a cheerful smile. “We only almost did.”

“Almost ramming it was scary enough!” Lawrence grabbed the Pocket Mirror, walked toward the window, and spoke quickly. “I didn’t notice when we had no point of reference, but—just how fast are we going?!”

“Very fast. Very, very fast, a formless phantom, crossing the waves like the wind,” Martha said with a smile, looking into Lawrence’s eyes through the mirror. “Do you remember what you told me many years ago? You said you would rebuild the White Oak and the Black Oak into the finest vanguard exploration ships, and then skim across the sea with me like the wind… My love, right now we’re at least at a force seven or eight.”

“That was a metaphor! A metaphor!” Lawrence’s eyes showed a hint of terror, because as he spoke he watched another massive phantom slide past the porthole so close it nearly scraped the glass. Its bridge towered high, and the turrets along its side pointed toward some faraway target. It was locked in fierce battle with an enemy in another layer of reality, while the White Oak-Black Oak pair seemed to rush straight past the mouths of its main guns.

After a moment, Lawrence tapped his forehead and sighed. “Forget it. As long as you can keep us safe. What exactly is going on out there now?”

“We are passing through a war zone,” Martha answered in a gentle, calm tone.

“A war zone? Who is fighting?”

Martha turned her head in the mirror, as if observing the situation on her side, then looked back. “The Frostholm Navy of the Mortal Realm, and the famous Sea Mist Fleet. Their opponents are the replicas rising from mirror world into the Mortal Realm.”

Lawrence felt his heart sink and his expression grew solemn. “…So the final moment has come?”

“It seems so,” Martha said softly. “mirror world is overlapping with the Mortal Realm now. The final ‘Inversion’ has already begun.”

“Why so soon? You said this wouldn’t happen for a while yet.”

“I could only make rough guesses, Lawrence. After leaving the ranks of the replicas, my connection to this mirror world world has been fading quickly. I don’t know what has happened, but clearly someone is deliberately speeding up mirror world’s Inversion…”

For a while Lawrence did not speak. He only stared out the window at the hazy, chaotic sea and the endless drifting phantoms. After a few seconds he suddenly asked, “Are we still sailing in the mirror world waters?”

“Yes. We are still trapped in this mirror world world,” Martha nodded. “But the barrier between mirror world and the Mortal Realm is blurring. We do not have much time left.”

“If the Inversion really completes, what will happen?” Lawrence asked.

“A city-state will become a cradle for the Elder Gods to descend. What do you think will happen?” Martha replied calmly.

Lawrence pressed his fingers to his temple without thinking.

“…Damn it. How far are we from Frostholm?”

“We are almost there,” Martha said, raising a hand in the mirror to point outside. “I can already see the lights of the Harbor district from here. Countless ships are gathering in the surrounding waters: half a century of wrecks, endless replicas. But they are all ignoring the Black Oak, at least for now.”

Lawrence nodded gravely. He picked up the mirror he used to speak with Martha, opened the door, and left his captain’s cabin. As he walked toward the bridge, he asked in a low voice, “Once we reach Frostholm, what do you need me to do?”

“Find their nest. The power that created and sustains this mirror world world lies deep within Frostholm. I can sense its general location,” Martha said. The smile she always wore faded into seriousness as she looked into Lawrence’s eyes, her tone very earnest. “Once you start searching for it, the replicas surrounding the city-state should react at once. I will find a way to hold them off.”

“…Can we handle that with only the Black Oak and the White Oak? You said yourself there are countless ships gathering…”

“We are part of the Vanished Fleet, Lawrence,” Martha said, a faint smile returning to her lips. “And we are not the only ones taking part in this battle.”

Lawrence reacted at once and glanced thoughtfully out the corridor window.

Those vast, hazy ship shadows were fighting on the distant sea. As time passed, the boundary between mirror world and the Mortal Realm was growing even more blurred. Soon this entire stretch of ocean, including both mirror world Frostholm and Mortal Realm Frostholm, would be aflame.

“I understand,” Lawrence said, nodding. He pulled his gaze back from the window and continued quickly toward the bridge. “But I have one last question. I can lead the team into Frostholm, but how are we supposed to deal with that… thing in the depths of the city-state? If it really is, as you say, an Elder God or a part of one, ordinary weapons may not work.”

The bridge was ahead.

Lawrence steadied himself and stepped forward to push the door open.

His First Mate, his Second Mate, the ship’s priest, and his crew members were all waiting for him there.

There was also that strange Anomaly 077-sailor. The mummified corpse had somehow found a crewman’s cap from the White Oak and put it on its head. It now sat quite properly in a chair, watching the other crew members at work with curious, focused attention.

Lawrence walked toward them, and the crew members all rose to salute him.

Martha’s voice came from the mirror: “You will have help.”

Lawrence returned his crew’s salutes. When he heard that, he looked at Martha in the mirror in surprise. “Help?”

“Yes, help. For many years they have been fighting in the depths of this mirror world world, trying to break through the great gate that leads to the deepest part of the city-state, but they have never succeeded. Go and find them. You won’t need to explain why you came. They will naturally become your allies… probably.”

“Probably?!”

“Because I am not sure what they really are, or whether they can even communicate with people. Lawrence, you know this. I have wandered here for many years, but I have never had much freedom.”

“All right, I understand. Help,” Lawrence sighed, and his tone could not help but hold some curiosity. “I thought we were the only ones fighting the replicas around us. I didn’t expect there to be others. Who are they?”

“They call themselves… the Queen’s Guard Corps.”