Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 7: The Puppet

Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

The towering green inferno that blazed in the night had begun to steadily fade away, and the surrounding sea also started to calm down.

After he verified with the goat-headed entity that the Homeloss had left the perilous waters and could now navigate on its own, Duncan removed his hand from the gloomy steering wheel. He was now looking down, his eyes catching sight of his body which had once again taken on flesh and blood, as well as the deck of the Homeloss which had returned to normal after the green flames were extinguished.

But deep down, he had a feeling—that many things had changed.

He could feel that the moment he grasped the steering wheel of the Homeloss, something had changed. The green flames had connected him with this ship, and even with the sea itself. Even though the flames had now receded, he could still feel this invisible bond, and sense every detail of the great ship beneath his feet.

Duncan slowly closed his eyes. He heard faint whispering coming from the shadowy corridors within the Homeloss, whispers that carried an inexplicable familiarity. He saw that the lantern in the captain’s quarters had been lit, with a ghastly light flickering within its glassy cover. He listened to the sound of waves striking the hull, and beneath those waves, it seemed as if there lay a profound gaze. But when he tried to locate the source of that gaze, it seemed to consciously hide its existence…

Duncan opened his eyes and let out a soft breath. The ethereal sails atop the Homeloss’s masts billowed in response. He walked toward the stairway leading to the deck, and the ropes beside the staircase wriggled aside to make way.

He realized—only after he had chosen to take the wheel did he truly become the captain of this ship.

“Captain, we are surfacing from the edge of the Spirit Realm and will soon return to the real world,” the voice of the goat-head came from beside him, but this time not through the communication pipes on the ship; it was directly in Duncan’s mind. When it came to serious matters, it sounded much more solemn and was far less noisy, “We were fortunate. At our deepest, we only ‘shook’ a bit in the lower layers of the Spirit Realm and were hardly affected by the Mysterious Deep Sea.”

The real world, the Spirit Realm, the Mysterious Deep Sea, and what seemed like the deeper Subspace… These unusual terms sequentially emerged in Duncan’s mind; he knew they pointed to the genuine state of this strange world, yet he still did not comprehend their true meanings.

However, listening to the goat-head address him as “Captain”, Duncan faintly sensed a subtle shift in its tone. He even speculated that even if he revealed the identity of “Zhou Ming”, the goat-head would still obey his commands—this was the change that had come about now that he had manned the wheel and successfully recovered from the “green fire”.

But after a moment’s hesitation, he refrained from such an attempt, nor did he inquire of the goat-head about the Spirit Realm, the Mysterious Deep, or the Subspace.

If it had been a few days earlier, he would have been engulfed in anxiety and unrest, desperate to understand his situation. But now, he seemed in no hurry.

This world had other “people”, other ships, orderly societies, other civilizations. This was enough to make him conjure many aspirations for the future out of thin air and even formulate some plans, though they were still quite nebulous at the moment.

Lost in thought, Duncan remembered the details of his encounter with the ship that had emerged suddenly from the dense fog, remembered the conspicuous smokestack on the other vessel, and the mechanical structures that appeared directly in his mind as they passed by the Homeloss.

“That was a mechanically powered ship… while the Homeloss looks more like a sailing battleship from a bygone era…” he muttered to himself, “But it wasn’t entirely a mechanical ship…”

There were chambers on that ship whose purposes were unclear. They were arranged as if they were scenes from some ritual. Along the spine of the vessel, one could see many strange patterns and symbols that looked like decorations, yet they went beyond mere ornamentation.

“Goat-head,” Duncan suddenly spoke, not knowing the name of the entity. He instinctively used the name in his mind, “When we ‘intersected’ with that ship just now, the man who seemed like the captain was shouting at me. What did he say?”

The goat-head appeared unconcerned with the captain’s name for it. It readily accepted and quickly replied, “The waves were too high; I couldn’t make it out.”

“You didn’t catch it either?” Duncan frowned slightly, “…I always felt like his expression was so tragically determined, as if he was ready to go down with me. Whatever he was shouting must’ve been something important.”

“The desire to go down with you is a normal human reaction, particularly among sailors. It isn’t something to be overly concerned about, and their cries before futile resistance certainly don’t warrant your attention…”

The goat-headed’s reply seemed to be taken for granted, but Duncan, who was walking up the stairs to the deck, almost stumbled, shaking the corners of his mouth in shock, “Is it a normal human reaction to want to perish with me?”

No sooner had he spoken than he felt somewhat amiss, for it seemed like he was exposing vulnerabilities in his identity as “captain,” revealing a lack of understanding of his “own” situation. This might have been due to the excessive energy consumption from the green fire just now, or possibly because the sense of merging with the Homeloss had lowered his vigilance. Regardless, it made Duncan instantly a bit nervous—but the goat-headed seemed to have not noticed at all.

“They fear you, which is normal,” said the goat-headed with a tone that seemed almost proud, “Anyone who sails the Endless Sea should fear you, just as they fear the old gods and the shadows in the Subspace. Speaking of shadows, did you know that a distinguished engineer… possibly an agriculturalist or a gourmet once said…”

Duncan wisely did not continue this topic, fearing that continuing the conversation would make it difficult for him to maintain consistency (of course, a more important reason was his real unwillingness to engage with the goat-headed, as the latter would babble incessantly once it found an audience). Moreover, the next second, another item on the deck diverted his attention.

“…What on earth is this?” Duncan stood at the edge of the deck, staring in astonishment at something at the doorway to the captain’s cabin.

It was a wooden box over a meter in length, its craftsmanship appearing quite exquisite. Dark, unnamed wood was tightly pieced together and fastened with what seemed like golden metal, reinforced at the corners where intricate patterns—like text or deliberately distorted pictograms—were etched. This box was definitely not from Homeloss! Duncan hadn’t seen it when he left the captain’s cabin earlier!

After a moment of silence, the goat-headed’s voice rose again: “…Don’t recognize it, but it should be a war prize…”

“A war prize?!” Duncan didn’t catch on immediately. He walked around the box twice, “This thing looks like a coffin, but far more exquisite than a normal one… Wait, war prize, you mean this thing was ‘taken’ from that ship just now?!”

“A successful acquisition, captain,” the goat-headed replied gravely, with an undertone of flattery, “Your voyages always bring forth bounty; it’s your standard performance.”

Duncan unconsciously opened his mouth, pondering that he hadn’t intended to take anything from the other ship. What sort of hunt or “return with a full load” was this?

But then he thought twice, afraid that saying this would not fit the image of “captain.” More importantly, the mechanized ship had by then vanished into the depths of the sea fog. Recalling the white-bearded captain from earlier, whose eyes seemed to burst with rage as if ready to die together with Duncan, he guessed it was no longer possible to return this item and thus kept all his thoughts to himself.

He stood in front of the coffin-like exquisite box, noticing that its lid seemed to be loose, and it looked as though it could easily be opened with a single pull.

After some hesitation, he placed his hand on the lid of the box—at the very least, he had to figure out what exactly his recent “Spirit Realm racing” had brought onto the ship.

His body was stronger than he had imagined, and the lid was not as heavy as he thought it might be. He barely exerted any force when the dark lid began to rise, creating a small opening, which he then fully lifted.

Duncan looked inside the box, dumbfounded.

“A person?”

Inside the box lay a beautiful, young woman—her silver-white hair spread out like mercury within the box. Her features were delicate and flawless, exuding a noble and aloof aura. She was dressed in an elegant, purple-black court gown, hands crossed over her front, as if she were in a deep, lasting sleep.

Perfect as a doll.

“No, this really is a doll!”

Upon closer inspection, Duncan suddenly noticed the other’s unnatural joint structure.