Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 663: Alices Spoils of War

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Duncan was visibly shocked. “You’ve seen the shadow of the Vanished?” he blurted out, his voice thick with disbelief.

Lucretia gave Duncan a brief look, her tone blending awe and caution. “Yes,” she affirmed, locking eyes with him. “I was lost in a dense fog for three days. Suddenly, in that fog, I saw a vessel that resembled the Vanished, moving quietly in the distance. As it moved, the fog momentarily cleared, offering a glimpse of the real world. Despite my fear and the eerie feeling it caused, I had no choice. I gathered my courage and directed the Bright Star toward the shadow. But as we got closer, it disappeared as if it had never been there. That’s when I finally navigated back to familiar waters.”

Pausing, Lucretia looked at Duncan, her expression a mix of curiosity and empathy. “This was in 1862. By that time, you had been missing in subspace for sixty-two years.”

Lost in his thoughts, Duncan turned towards the distant horizon, masking his inner turmoil. Calmly, he replied, “I don’t remember that event.”

“I understand,” Lucretia responded, nodding in acknowledgment of his confusion. “And it always makes me wonder… Was what I saw really the Vanished? Or just a figment of my imagination, a hallucination from sheer exhaustion? Or maybe it was just one of those unexplained phenomena at the edge of the frontier.”

Her voice carried determination mixed with apprehension as she continued, “That was the only time I dared to cross the ‘six-mile’ threshold. After that terrifying encounter, I never ventured that deep into the fog again, nor did I come across such illusions.”

Duncan remained silent, his mind swirling with thoughts and questions.

Lucretia’s account revealed the eerie and perilous nature of the “Civilization Frontier” or the “Eternal Veil.” This zone of endless fog is filled with mysteries and dangers, even for an experienced explorer like Lucretia, who had approached it well-prepared. Her journey nearly ended in a permanent disappearance into the mysterious fog. Even within the somewhat safer six-mile zone, explorers constantly faced threats from bizarre and dangerous entities and phenomena.

Yet, these very entities intrigued Duncan the most.

The elusive “shadow” Lucretia described, possibly a trace of the New Hope, was just one example. How many such remnants might be hiding in the fog within the six-mile border? Were they all residues of different worlds left behind after their destruction? What mysterious forces allowed these residues to persist? What secrets lay beyond the “ring” where these entities roamed the Boundless Sea?

These things, which Lucretia referred to as haunting “voids,” seemed key to understanding and solving the overarching crisis of the world.

His reflections were interrupted as Lucretia caught his attention. He looked up to see her standing quietly next to him, her eyes showing a complex mixture of concern and thoughtfulness.

Her voice was soft but filled with concern. “You’re planning to go back there, aren’t you?” she asked quietly.

Leaning on the handrail, Duncan replied without looking at her, “The ship is already en route to the frontier.” He tapped the handrail for emphasis. “The Annihilators have their stronghold hidden within the fog. My aim is to confront and resolve this issue.”

Lucretia’s eyes met Duncan’s firmly. “I’m not talking about this immediate mission—the cultists probably aren’t hidden too deeply, and you’ll likely clear out their nest without much difficulty. I’m referring to your plans afterward.” Her voice was serious as she continued, “Once you’ve dealt with this immediate threat, you’ll refocus on the mysteries within the fog, won’t you? You’ll investigate the entities and anomalies I mentioned, and perhaps even consider going beyond the six-mile limit.”

For a moment, under Lucretia’s intense scrutiny, Duncan felt unusually overwhelmed. After a brief pause, he admitted, “If necessary, yes, I will.”

Lucretia pressed her lips together, holding back further comments or objections. After a long silence, she made an unexpected proposition, “This time, take me with you. My past experiences might be useful for your mission.”

Clearly taken aback, Duncan stared at Lucretia for a few seconds before responding softly, “And what if the end of this fog leads into subspace?”

“Then my experience will be even more vital,” she asserted confidently.

Duncan fell silent, his gaze wandering over the vast ocean. After a long pause, he exhaled, “We’ll discuss it later. I’m considering it, but right now, there’s no urgent need to delve deep into the fog. Not until I’ve dealt with the cultists at the border and made contact with the Four Divine Churches.”

Lucretia acknowledged this with a slight nod.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and the clinking of metal. Duncan turned toward the noise and saw Alice, a doll-like figure, cheerfully approaching with a large wooden box in one hand and an assortment of kitchen utensils—knives, pans, spoons—all tied together with wire, clanging like battle trophies in the other.

“Captain!” Alice exclaimed, showing off her collection of kitchen ‘treasures.’ “Look! I’ve got my own spoils of war too!”

Duncan, distracted from his serious conversation with Lucretia, looked at Alice’s collection with a mix of surprise and amusement. “Did you raid the kitchen?” he joked, a smile crossing his face.

“Yes, yes!” Alice responded with youthful excitement, her face aglow with pride. “Goathead said that after taking an enemy ship, we must plunder their treasury for spoils of war before the ship sinks. So, I followed those toy soldiers and ended up in the kitchen…”

She paused, reflecting with a mix of humor and slight disappointment. “This ship really isn’t much to brag about. The items here didn’t put up any resistance when I claimed my spoils. I was all ready for a battle, brandishing this kitchen knife like a sword…”

Lucretia watched Alice’s animated retelling with a mix of shock and amusement, while Duncan remained silent for a moment before saying, “…Alice.”

“Huh?” Alice looked up, confused.

“Not everyone treats cooking as a combat experience…”

“I know that. In the city-states, kitchens are quite peaceful. But this is a ship, right?” Alice reasoned in her unique way.

Duncan replied with a hint of humor, “…Not all ships have kitchen utensils as feisty as our buckets, mops, and pans.”

Alice’s eyes widened in surprise as if this was a new realization for her.

After a short pause, she exclaimed in awe, “Really? That’s amazing!”

Duncan just gave her a silent, amused look.

Meanwhile, Lucretia’s attention turned to the curious wooden box in Alice’s other hand. “What’s that? Another trophy?”

“Yes,” Alice quickly answered, her enthusiasm undiminished. “I found it in a strange room – just this box, alone and wrapped with several iron chains. I managed to remove most of the chains, but the lock is odd. No matter how hard I try, it won’t open. I don’t know what’s inside, so I brought the whole box…”

She then handed the heavy wooden box to Duncan. “Could you take a look?”

Duncan took the box, noting its dark wood ornately decorated with intricate patterns and a seemingly basic iron padlock. Despite its simplicity, the lock had resisted even Alice’s considerable efforts.

Knowing Alice’s capabilities—her unique strength to row a coffin faster than a motorboat and break heavy chains—it was almost comical to imagine her defeated by a simple, rusty lock.

Duncan thought to himself, “The doll is strong, but not clever.”

“It seems this box is exactly what I’ve been looking for,” he remarked.

“Anomaly 132-Lock,” Lucretia identified as she approached, instantly recognizing the unique lock that Alice couldn’t open by brute force. “This lock requires a special ‘key’—a passphrase known only to the one who locked it. Once locked, both it and the container it secures become indestructible, regardless of the material, even paper. This particular object is one of the less dangerous anomalies, rare but designed for a specific purpose. It’s typically used to securely encase hazardous items. It was stolen from a transport ship during a pirate raid back in 1876… I never thought it would end up with these cultists.”

Lucretia paused, her expression uncertain. “The cultist who last used the ‘locking’ mechanism has died, taking the passphrase with him. Although the lock is considered ‘indestructible,’ there are rumors of a vulnerability,” she pondered, thinking over potential ways to bypass its security.

However, before she could elaborate on her plan for the lock, a sudden “click” interrupted her. Lucretia’s eyes widened in surprise as she saw the wooden box now open in Duncan’s hands.

Unexpectedly, the lock had opened by itself.

Observing this, Duncan smiled at Lucretia. “It seems the lock wasn’t keen on your attempts to crack it,” he quipped lightly. “Or perhaps it sensed that if you couldn’t open it, I would be the next one to try.”

Caught off guard, Lucretia could only offer a moment of stunned silence. “…That’s a plausible theory. Perhaps I was too focused on traditional methods.”

With a soft chuckle at the situation, Duncan shook his head in amusement. He then carefully placed the wooden box on the ground, removed the now-open padlock, and gently lifted the lid to reveal its contents.

Inside, there was a stark black wooden carving of a goat head, lying still and mysterious within the box.

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