Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Crossed Paths

The enormous shadow rolled in to crush them, and everyone on the White Oak saw this moment that would stay with them for the rest of their lives.

It was an ancient, awe-inspiring three-masted warship. In this age when steamships were no longer anything special, that sailing warship emerging from the dense fog looked so old it might have stepped out of an oil painting from a century ago. Her masts rose high, her sides were steep, and ghostly green fire burned across her black wooden hull like restless souls. Enormous sails billowed in the void, filled with howling phantoms and layers of flame. A scene like this appeared only in the most terrifying shipwreck legends, even on the dreadful Boundless Sea.

“We’re going to crash!!!”

Some of the crew cried out. These men, who made their living at sea and were known for their bravery and roughness, still lost their composure before such a giant. They shouted and ran. Some tried to find shelter on the deck, some clung to anything that could hold them in place, and some even dropped to their knees amid the pitching waves to pray with unprecedented devotion, chanting the names of the storm goddess Gamona or Bartok, the Lord of Death.

On the Boundless Sea, the Gods’ divine blessing had already faded, but only these two True Gods still had the power to watch over all their children alike.

But not all the crew lost their calm. The ship’s first mate immediately looked to the captain he trusted most. He knew that sailing the Boundless Sea was full of danger, and an experienced captain was always the key to deciding a ship’s fate. Lawrence had set foot on the ocean for more than thirty years. The old captain, now over fifty, might not be as strong as in his youth, but the experience that had kept him alive on this vast ocean might still win everyone a slim chance to live.

The ship emerging from the dense fog clearly was not a normal vessel sailing the world of the Mortal Realm. It looked more like something that had risen from the Spirit Realm, or from somewhere “deeper”. If it was some kind of supernatural manifestation, then maybe they could use some supernatural power to fight it.

Old captains who sailed the Boundless Sea all had at least some experience dealing with supernatural manifestations.

Yet the first mate saw only fear and shock on the captain’s face.

The old captain held the wheel without moving, as if he had not even noticed that the entire ship was already swallowed by the shadow. He stared fixedly at the oncoming hull, the muscles of his face so tight they looked carved from stone. At last he forced out a few words through his teeth, colder than the wind on the Frost Sea: “…It’s the Vanished…”

“C-Captain?!” The first mate was startled by the name drifting into his ears. Like everyone who made a living on the Boundless Sea, he had heard that name from many older, more experienced, and more superstitious crewmen. “What did you say?! That—”

“The Vanished!!!”

Captain Lawrence seemed not to hear the first mate at all. He only clutched the White Oak’s wheel with all his strength and let out a hoarse roar, as if he wanted to scream at something. Almost as soon as his shout fell, the towering hull of the Vanished finally touched the White Oak’s bow.

Almost all the sailors screamed.

Yet the earth-shaking impact they were braced for never came. The gigantic ship wreathed in green flames passed through like a vast phantom, its roaring blaze sweeping across the White Oak’s deck. Thick hull, gloomy cabins, dim corridors, a keel and beams all burning with fire… The sailors stared in terror as they watched themselves crash into the phantom of that ghost ship, while the green flames burning on the ghost ship swept past them like a net of fire.

Lawrence also watched that blaze howl toward him, but before it reached him, he first saw it sweep over the first mate in front of him. The first mate’s body suddenly turned into an illusory spirit form within the unreal flame, and the bones inside that spirit form burned like firewood. He also saw the priest by the prayer stand ahead. The flames on the priest flickered weakly, as if the God behind him was still using a thin trace of divine blessing to shield him from being devoured by the Vanished.

Then the flames reached Lawrence as well. He saw his own body undergo the same change. A powerful sense of weariness, obedience, and fear flooded his whole being. The ocean amulet he wore next to his body began to work, a feeling of heat and coolness alternating to barely keep his reason intact. With what little clarity he had left, he “passed through” the Vanished’s cabins and corridors.

Gloomy, oppressive cabins rushed toward him and then swept past. Ropes mottled with rot and barnacles coiled around ancient wooden pillars that burned with green flame. He saw a vast cargo hold, where all kinds of uncanny objects that should have been buried in the Deep Sea lay quietly. He saw a luxurious cabin with a wooden Goathead set on the table in its center.

That Goathead turned, gazing coldly into Lawrence’s eyes.

At last Lawrence used all his strength to lift his head. He saw the figure holding the helm. Beside the classic ship’s wheel stood a tall figure in a black mariner’s uniform, as imposing and terrifying as the master of a nightmare. That figure ruled all the ghostly flames, and even the sea already sunk into the depths of the Spirit Realm seemed cowed by his presence, torn open behind him.

Lawrence closed his eyes in resignation. He knew he was already part of the Vanished now. That nightmare captain needed sacrificial victims to feed his endless emptiness and loneliness.

But the next second, he forced himself to open his eyes again. It felt as if all the courage and madness of his life had gathered into these few moments. Recalling what he had learned from books and legends, he looked at the terrifying captain standing on the Vanished with an attitude as frank and calm as he could manage.

“You don’t need to take everyone—take me and let my crew go.”

But the tall figure did not answer. He only turned his gaze over coldly. There seemed to be a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as if he were wondering why a tiny mortal captain dared to bargain with him.

Lawrence finally could not hold back and let out a roar: “They all have wives and children!!”

The figure standing on the Vanished finally reacted. He stared in Lawrence’s direction and seemed to say something, but just then a loud roaring rose from the side. In the howl of wind, Lawrence only heard a vague noise and could not make out a single word.

The answer from the Vanished was blown away by the roar of the waves—

“What did you say?! The wind’s too loud, I can’t hear you!!”

The next second, a huge clamor crashed into Lawrence’s ears, full of wind, waves, and the shouts of sailors outside the door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw emerald flames fading quickly, and the Vanished’s last lingering phantom dissipated from the air like fog.

Lawrence sucked in a deep breath, then noticed that his hands, which the green flames had burned away before, had returned to normal. Everyone else in the bridge had also turned back into flesh and blood. The devout priest was lying by the prayer stand, gasping for breath and constantly chanting the holy name of the storm goddess Gamona. The ominous purple-black smoke in the censer slowly dispersed, and pure white smoke rose from the brass lid.

It took Lawrence a long time to steady his breathing. Then he looked around in doubt, as if he could not believe that nightmare was really over, until the first mate’s voice came from the side: “Captain! That ship—the Vanished has left!”

Lawrence looked dazed. After a few seconds he finally muttered to himself: “…He actually spared us?”

The first mate did not catch it for a moment: “Captain? What did you say?”

“Captain Duncan…” Lawrence murmured without thinking, then slapped himself as if he had accidentally spoken some forbidden word. He suddenly raised his head to look at the first mate. “Roll call, now! See who’s missing on the ship!”

The first mate nodded at once and moved to leave, but Lawrence immediately called him back: “And see if there’s anyone extra on board!”

The first mate froze, then understood. A trace of fearful suspicion appeared in his eyes. He took a deep breath, quietly whispered the name of the storm goddess, and then rushed out onto the deck.

On the White Oak, still sailing in a Spirit Realm state, the assembly bell rang like a death knell.