Chapter 701

Chapter 701: Leaving Port

Right now Goathead was very panicked, extremely panicked. Even though the captain had told him not to panic, the moment he heard the news his head almost switched into full vibration mode.

Even Alice, listening at the side, had been so shocked by the captain’s news that her head had fallen off – literally fallen off – and she still had not put it back on.

“You mean… every person in the ancient kingdom of Critt, from top to bottom, was copied from a part of my remains?” Goathead stared wide-eyed. “And it was the Abyssal Lord who did the copying?”

“Yes,” Duncan said with a nod. “That also explains many of the historical puzzles that have always hung in front of the scholars about the ancient kingdom of Critt. For example, why that ancient kingdom almost left no systematic cultural records – because they were a short-lived people ‘made’ only for the Genesis Protocol and never had their own cultural system. Or for example, why the ‘ruins’ of the Critt people are found on islands that are not fit to live on at all, even islands covered by Visions. It is because every ancient Critt city was built as infrastructure for the Genesis Protocol. They were not meant to be settlements…”

Goathead’s tone grew more and more complicated: “You know that’s not what I’m worried about…”

“…Finding out all of a sudden that an ancient people are actually your own spawn is pretty shocking,” Duncan said after a short pause, trying hard to keep his face steady. “To be honest, I was pretty surprised too when I first heard it…”

At this point, Alice, who had not said much until now, suddenly spoke up: “But… but… but… Goat…”

“Put your head back on before you talk,” Duncan said helplessly, giving the doll a look. “Sitting there hugging your head is kind of scary.”

After her head fell off in fright, Alice had not put it back on. She had just been sitting beside Duncan, hugging her head and watching the drama with full attention. Now, reminded, she hurriedly reacted. With an “oh,” she quickly pressed her head back onto her neck, and at once her speech became smooth again: “But Goathead was already the main god of the elves, right? If you insist, all the elves in the world could be counted as his spawn. He should be able to accept this…”

“Easy for you to say.” Goathead swung his head around at once, as if resentment was about to leak out from his base. “I was asleep and half my body got taken away to be used as a culture medium, okay? And it would be one thing if it was only some ancient people. They even threw in a whole bunch of Enders! I always thought those mumbling ‘preachers’ were off. The moment they came on board they went straight down to kiss the deck. I’m telling you, if my material allowed it, I would have had goosebumps all over back then – and now I’m remembering those goosebumps again! What is this even, huh? I take a nap and wake up to this…”

Seeing Goathead slide quickly into full rambling mode, Duncan had to knock on the table twice to quiet his overexcited First Mate. Then he cleared his throat and broke the silence: “Ahem. The Enders were also normal Critt people once.”

Goathead froze for a moment, then reluctantly turned his neck. “That I do know… now I know… And even now, not all of them are that crazy… But still…”

He kept saying “but” for a long time but never got to the point. After a long string of mutters, it all turned into a helpless sigh. His head drooped and he fell silent.

Alice could not help looking at Goathead a couple more times. Then she lifted her head and looked at Duncan, a little at a loss. After a moment she said hesitantly: “Captain… the First Mate doesn’t seem very happy.”

“It’s not really about being happy or unhappy. He just suddenly learned something very shocking. He needs to rest and then take some time to think calmly,” Duncan said with a light sigh as he rose from behind the chart table. “Let’s not bother him.”

“Oh,” Alice answered. She stood up from the chair and followed Duncan out of the captain’s cabin. But as she passed the edge of the enchanted sea chart table, she stopped again. After a moment of hesitation she reached out and patted Goathead on the head. “Have a good rest… You still have to teach me how to cook southern dishes later…”

Duncan listened from the side, the corner of his eye twitching despite himself. But this time he did not say anything. He only shook his head in silence and turned to walk out onto the deck.

The sea breeze was gentle, the broken waves rose and fell, and the distant sea glittered with light. It was still a fine day.

Duncan and Alice strolled onto the deck, and there they saw that Vanna had come up at some point too. She was leaning against the rail, facing the wind, staring into the distance as if lost in thought.

The sea breeze blowing from the border lifted Vanna’s silver-white hair. When she heard movement behind her, she turned and brushed back her long hair, a smile appearing on her face: “Captain, Alice.”

“I thought you would spend more time talking with Helena,” Duncan said with a nod as he walked over to the rail. “News this important is sure to shake everyone.”

“Yes, news this important,” Vanna said with a laugh, shaking her head. “Which is exactly why Her Eminence the Pope won’t have much time to chat with me from now on. She is probably still in a meeting with the other Eminences right now… Whether it’s the origin of the ancient kingdom of Critt, or the future of this world of ours they call the ‘Sanctuary World’, or those… already insane ‘end-survey teams’, any of it is enough to make a lot of people lose a lot of hair.”

“…After that, has Vision 004 shown any more signs of activity?” Duncan asked.

“No,” Vanna said, shaking her head. “After you left, we left a few watchers there. They reported that the assembly ground has shown no movement at all so far… In the past, even when the tomb itself did not appear, there would still be strange noises or shadows now and then in the assembly ground… It seems it’s just as you said. Vision 004 really has shut itself off from the outside world completely.”

“Just like the ‘Sun’ above our heads, that ‘tomb’ has reached the end of its life. Its mission is over,” Duncan said calmly. “The Gravekeeper warned me that even if messages come from the tomb again in the future, you must not answer them, and must never send people in again… If anything comes out of the tomb, even if the Gravekeeper himself walks out of there, you must not answer. You should pull back at once… By then it will no longer be the Vision 004 you know.”

“We know. Her Eminence the Pope has already warned all the Saints. From now on, Vision 004 will be a complete forbidden zone. Besides one rotating team of ascetic monks stationed at the edge of the assembly ground to watch the situation, no one will go near the Nameless King’s tomb again…”

Vanna spoke in a low voice, then slowly fell silent. After a few seconds she suddenly let out a sigh: “…Another thing has ended.”

Yes, another thing had ended. But what did she mean? This very special “gathering”? The long “watch, summon, and Listening Rite” process aimed at the Nameless King’s tomb that had formed over hundreds and thousands of years in the Four Gods Church? Or… one more legacy that the ancient Creators had left for this world?

Whatever it was, it had all come to an end.

“Did that Gravekeeper tell you anything about the ‘Sun’?” Vanna suddenly asked after a brief silence. “Did he say how that ‘Sun’ was built, or… whether there is any way to repair it, even just to extend its…”

Duncan shook his head gently.

“He’s just a guard,” Duncan said. “A guard whose life and death were bound to that observation post when all the systems stopped and all the engineers and designers left, turned into part of the Vision. He already told me everything he knows. But the Sun…”

Duncan paused and looked out over the distant sea.

Vision 001 – the Sun – was moving slowly across the sky, like an old man at the end of his life, trudging toward his destination.

“The Sun is a vast project built together by the Crawling King and the entire Critt people. It’s not something a guard could understand.”

“…True,” Vanna said with a self-mocking shake of her head. “I expected too much.”

“Yes. But it’s fine, because that’s the problem I’m going to solve next,” Duncan said gently, glancing at Vanna. “We just have to go find that ‘designer’ from the Deep Sea era – starting with opening a door.”

As his words fell, a faint creaking sounded from deep within the Vanished’s hull. Right after that, Vanna felt a slight tremor under her feet, and then the half-transparent spirit-form sail slowly appeared on the mast –

The Vanished began slowly adjusting its posture and turning its bow. The huge, imposing ghost ship pointed its prow toward the distant sea – to the vast, hazy wall of mist that stood along the edge of the world.

…

At Lightwind Harbor, the solemn and holy great Storm Cathedral still lay quietly moored near the coastline. A priest in a blue and black robe hurried across the upper cloisters and arches of the Cathedral and almost ran to the door of the Pope’s prayer room: “Your Eminence! Your Eminence! That ship – the Vanished – has moved! Ten minutes ago it suddenly changed course and sped away from Lightwind Harbor!”

“I know,” Helena’s voice came from inside the prayer room, her magnetic tone carrying a calming power. “There’s no need to be so startled. It’s simply time.”

As she finished speaking, the dignified and elegant lady turned back and focused once more on the ritual brazier in front of her.

Part of her mind had sunk into the flames and still stayed within the channel built by the Psychic Communication.

“…the Vanished has already set sail. Vanna just sent me the news… Yes, the Tides has already set out with its escort ships. They will reach the agreed meeting point on time…

“Banster, what about that ‘dead-and-not-dead’ fleet of yours?”

A gloomy voice entered Helena’s mind: “It’s the Rest and the No Rest, Helena.”

“Fine, fine, it’s all the same… Where are they?”

“They’ve set out too. Don’t worry – we will all arrive on time.”