Chapter 474

Chapter 474: Morris’s Knowledge Blind Spot

When the veil of night descended, Morris was called to the captain’s cabin.

Duncan sat behind the enchanted sea chart table with a serious face. On the tabletop beside his hand, a messy pile of books had already formed. Some were books they had brought from Pland and Frostholm, and some had been acquired from the Sea Mist Fleet.

After they confirmed that reading at sea was harmless, the number of books on the ship kept growing.

Morris glanced at the table and saw that the books covered all kinds of topics. There were strange tales from various city-states, authoritative works on history, and some dangerous reading that dealt with Doomsday theories and Records of revelation and other fringe doctrines.

The old scholar felt curiosity stir in his heart, along with a thin thread of unease.

The captain seemed to have suddenly decided to look for some specific information. Judging from the books he had taken out, what he wanted to find was probably not simple at all. If he had called Morris here, it was most likely to ask about such things.

Becoming a little more cautious, Morris quickly recited the name of the God of Wisdom Rahm in his mind, praying in silent Prayer for a blessing over his thoughts. He also lowered his head to check the charm amulet on his wrist, a string of colored stones, before sitting down opposite the captain and asking: “What did you call me here for?”

“…I ran into some problems and need to ask a learned man like you for advice,” Duncan nodded. Then he seemed to notice the tension on Morris’s face. He smiled and tried to reassure him as he added, “Don’t be so nervous. I just want to ask a few things. It might have something to do with history.”

Just a few questions? History? Secrets of Truth so obscure that even the Master of the Vanished could not be sure of them?

Hearing the captain’s comforting words, Morris hurriedly flipped Rahm’s name back and forth in his heart a dozen more times, piling that foolish divine blessing on layer after layer. Only then did he tense his nerves and raise his head: “I am ready. Please ask.”

Duncan: “…”

Feeling a bit helpless, Duncan knew this reaction from the old mister was only natural. He sighed, then began to speak while choosing his words: “In the history you know, has there ever been a description of something like this – some gigantic man-made object falling from the sky, accompanied by great flames and flashes of light? This fallen relic might also have exploded, breaking into several smaller pieces that then fell onto the world.”

When he finished, Duncan looked straight into Morris’s eyes.

Morris stared back, stunned.

“…Is that all?” the old scholar asked hesitantly.

“That’s it, that’s all,” Duncan nodded. Of course he had many more details, but for such a vague question about history, too many details might actually affect Morris’s judgment. So he chose the simplest way to put it. “If history recorded something like this, the words might be different, but the main event should still be built around the scene of a huge object falling in flames. Do you know of any similar event?”

The question the captain had suddenly thrown out was puzzling, but Morris noticed how serious Duncan was and still tried hard to recall and think. After several minutes, he slowly shook his head: “I have never seen a record like that.”

“In all official histories and unofficial histories?” Duncan was not surprised by Morris’s answer, but he still asked, unwilling to give up. “This event may have been turned into myth, or even become part of some Heretic doctrines, because it might have happened in a very distant past.”

“I am very sure,” Morris answered again. “In all official histories, unofficial histories, and Heretic doctrines I have ever come across, there is no record that matches or even resembles the scene you described. Of course, that does not rule out the chance that this event is written down in some obscure legend that spread only in a tiny circle, or some part of history that has already been lost. There is always something unknown beyond what we know, but…”

Morris paused for a moment, then continued: “If it is a hidden piece of history so secret that even I do not know it, then it will be very hard for you to find any material about it from other sources. Maybe you can try your luck at the Truth Academy’s grand library, and look for clues in the oldest books in Morka and Lightwind Harbor.”

For a while Duncan did not speak. His calm gaze sank into thought. After a long time, he gave a slight nod: “You can write to the scholars you know and ask about this. If we really need to contact the headquarters of the Truth Academy, that is also fine.”

Hearing the captain’s serious tone, Morris straightened at once and nodded solemnly.

It seemed this matter was truly very important.

As an old scholar who had studied knowledge all his life, he could not help feeling his own curiosity stir. He could not hold back from asking: “May I ask something? The thing you spoke of… what exactly is it?”

Duncan hesitated for a moment, then slowly answered: “I am not sure. I touched on certain visions by chance. But even if I cannot be sure what it really is… I feel that scene is probably closely tied to why our world looks the way it does today, and to much of the history that has been lost.”

“I understand,” Morris bowed his head deeply. “I will find a way to investigate.”

He did not keep asking for details, and he did not ask what kind of “visions” the captain had mentioned, because he knew that curiosity and the desire to explore must be just right, not too little and not too much.

After a short pause, Duncan added: “‘The New Hope’. When you search through the material, pay special attention to these words.”

“That sounds like the name of a ship?” Morris asked, thinking it over.

Duncan thought for a moment, then nodded with a strange expression: “Yes… a ship.”

It was indeed a ship. A spaceship whose engine exploded, which fell from the starry sea down to the earth.

…

In Frostholm’s south port, inside a hidden underground facility, Undying engineers were hard at work.

Knowledge from half a century ago was once again useful. Ancient Blueprints had been taken out from the fleet’s stores. Engineers as old as those Blueprints gathered with excitement among heaps of machines, pipes, and cables, talking about knowledge and ideas that to ordinary people would sound like some secret script from heaven.

Tyrian sat in a corner of the hall, watching his subordinates rushing around.

“I really did not think that, in my lifetime, I would see these Blueprints put to use again,” an Undying engineer said excitedly beside him. His head was shriveled, his chest had a hole in it, and half his body was driven by a steam engine. He held the drawings in his hands as he spoke. “Look at these drainage devices and balance mechanisms. They made many modern changes to the Submersible, but the basic principles are still the same as back then. Flood the tanks, sink, pump the water out, float back up, and use ballast weights in the bilge to help…”

“I understand why you are excited,” Tyrian glanced at his subordinate. “But I must remind you of one thing. You are no longer in your lifetime.”

“Close enough. My ‘time-until-death’ works too,” the shriveled-headed Undying engineer laughed, his broken teeth making his grin look quite scary. He raised his hand and gave the steam engine that made up half his body a heavy knock. The gears, which had been running a bit roughly, clacked a few times and started turning smoothly again. Then he looked up at the Submersible in the distance, surrounded by his comrades. After a long silence, he spoke with a bit of feeling: “Ah… if only we could meet its builders. It was designed very well. They really put their hearts into it… They must have truly wanted this thing to be used.”

Tyrian said nothing. He only watched the Submersible in the middle of the hall with quiet gaze. After a long time, he sighed softly: “Go and get back to work. This time it really will be used. Do not let anything go wrong.”

“Yes, Captain.”

His subordinate left. Tyrian let out a slow breath. At that moment, a faint humming suddenly came from the scrying crystal lens by his hand. Right after that came Lucretia’s teasing voice: “You look worried, Brother. It seems being Governor is not very easy?”

Tyrian turned his face toward the sound without changing his expression and looked at the scrying crystal on the table as it slowly lit up. Lucretia’s image appeared in the crystal sphere.

“I went to all the trouble of moving this thing here from the ship, not so I could listen to you make jokes about your Big Brother,” he said.

“Relax a little, Brother. You are not a Pirate Lord anymore. A Governor has to be both dignified and approachable,” Lucretia smiled, as if she did not care at all about the displeasure in Tyrian’s tone. Then her voice shifted as she asked curiously, “But I really do want to know. Was this… truly Father’s arrangement?”

“What else?” Tyrian sighed. “He did something big here. Something you cannot even imagine. Now the whole of Frostholm is under his influence. I should feel lucky that he really has regained his humanity, so even though this arrangement is surprising, it is at least not bad. Frostholm and my Sea Mist Fleet both have an answer now.”

Lucretia finally put away her faintly teasing smile. After thinking for a moment, she hesitated and asked: “How is Father… now?”

“He is doing very well. His true body is on the Vanished. He spends his days either fishing or feeding pigeons. His avatar form is in Frostholm. Every morning he goes for a walk in the park, and every afternoon he comes here to supervise the progress of the project. You care that much? Next time he comes, I can switch on the scrying crystal and let you talk to him directly?”

“Ah, better not!” Lucretia almost raised her voice by reflex, then hurried to return to the posture of a lady. “I… I still need to prepare myself. Let’s not talk about that. I still have a lot of things to handle over here…”

“Things over there?” Tyrian raised his eyebrows without thinking. “Speaking of that, how is your research going? What is the situation now with that ‘fragment’ that fell from the sky?”

Lucretia hesitated. She had only picked a random excuse to change the subject, but now she could not help letting out a sigh.

“There is no progress. Even Taran Ael in Lightwind Harbor has no way forward.”