Ashes Of Deep Sea
Chapter 439 - Chapter 439 Chapter 440 Sea Mist and Frost

Chapter 439: Chapter 440 Sea Mist and Frost Chapter 439: Chapter 440 Sea Mist and Frost The night deepened, and the light snow that fluttered down showed no signs of stopping even as it continued into the late hours. Though not heavy, the snow still gently and silently covered the entire city–like pale bandages wrapping around the many wounds the city had sustained from the disaster, concealing everything that had not yet had the chance to heal.

Ruined buildings, bloodstains not yet cleared, decommissioned steam walkers, barricades awaiting dismantlement, and the dried “mud” that clogged nearly every corner of the city, the cleanup of which was an unknown time away.

The mirror invasion had receded, but this supernatural disaster’s “by-product” had been left behind in the city in the form of physical matter.

The church had already taken over the city’s operations after nightfall.

Guards carrying lanterns were watchfully eyeing the streets under the cover of darkness, on alert for any sinister sounds that might emerge from the shadows not fully illuminated by the gas street lamps.

The air was filled with the scent of incense burning, and the whispered prayers of the Night Watch Priests carried a reassuring power.

“It seems quite peaceful tonight…” A guard dressed in black stared at the dim spots on the street for a long time before suddenly muttering to a companion, “I thought there’d still be a harsh battle tonight.”

“Everyone thought so,” another female guard in black spoke softly, her lantern at her waist fixed with prayerful scripture ribbons sealed with fire lacquer, indicating her as the leader of their squad, “After all, we’ve just been through such a severe Transcendent disaster, and a large number of priests have been sacrificed… Logically, the City-State’s defenses should be at their lowest tonight.”

“It seems like there are no reports from other night watch squads–there hasn’t been a single whistle all night.”

“…Anyway, stay alert. Until the sun rises, we can’t let our guard down for a moment.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The woman referred to as Captain nodded lightly and turned her attention to another squad busy nearby.

A delicate brass incense burner was suspended by a fine chain, from which wafted ethereal smoke. A quiet monk used the incense to bless the streets, whispering prayers to the god of death, while several accompanying junior priests carefully scraped and collected black mud samples from nearby walls, lamp posts, and the ground.

After drying, this “mud” had completely lost its vitality and would no longer form into terrifying, misshapen figures. When the scraper broke its surface, the texture revealed was like some sort of semi-dry yet finely structured… “paint.”

“How much of this ‘sludge’ do you think there is in the city now?”

She couldn’t help but turn and mutter to a subordinate beside her.

“Who knows–They say there’s even less of it on the surface; the sewers and subway are where the real disaster areas are. Several sewage treatment plants are almost filled with this muck. The city hall is in total chaos, and no one knows how long it’ll take to clean up.”

“Cleaning up the sludge… at least that’s the least of our worries now,” the female captain sighed, looking towards the end of the street, “Now, Frost has to deal with more troubles than just this strange mud.”

The black-clad guard beside her also instinctively looked up, following his captain’s gaze.

It was the port area at the edge of the City-State, brightly lit and vaguely noisy.

“Yes, not just mud…” the guard in black mumbled, his voice carrying a mixture of weirdness and tension, “An entire Mist Fleet is still surrounding this city.”

…

At the eastern port area, the lights were bright, and the noise of people was booming.

As the only port that had continuously operated and withstood the monster invasion throughout the entire defense campaign, the East Port remained busy even after the fighting had ended.

All dockyards and engineering equipment were in use, and all remaining workforces were working overtime. Several docks that had suffered minor damage during the day’s battle were also temporarily repaired as quickly as possible, allowing the better-conditioned ships to dock for repairs.

For many people in the city, the battle was over, and tonight was a time for them to rejuvenate and heal their wounds, but for the Frost Navy and the port logistics units, the battle persisted–numerous ships were severely damaged and in urgent need of repairs, many injured needed treatment, and more pressing than these issues, they had to face a situation that was even more tricky and complex:

The Mist Fleet, their temporary allies for the day, their profound nightmare for the past fifty years.

The largest and strongest “Ghost Ship,” which had scared countless Frostfolk children over the last fifty years, was now stationary beside the biggest dock at East Port.

Its towering bow rose against the night sky, the deck’s cannons and bridge buildings casting ghostly shadows in the snowstorm. Light from the shore struck the armored belt, reflecting a skeletal, pale gleam. And on that steel behemoth’s side, facing toward Frost, a wide banner fluttered in the wind, with text that looked hastily scrawled as if done in a rush–

“Sea Mist Venture Company, Temporary Visit Inspection Ship Stationed in Frost.”

Even the weathered soldiers of Frost had never seen such a spectacle–anyone passing by the dock at this time would have to stare at those rough letters for a long while, fighting the urge to slap themselves a few times to stay sober.

“Captain,” First Mate Aiden walked across the deck and came to stand behind Tyrion, who was gazing down over the edge of the deck, “the banner has been hung out, just like you said, trying to appear as friendly as possible.”

Tyrion grunted in response, but then raised his hand and pointed to the soldiers and workers below on the dock who were occasionally pausing near Sea Mist, watching anxiously: “But they seem pretty tense, don’t they?”

“I don’t know what’s going on; I guess these days Frostfolk are all a little jumpy,” Aiden scratched his bald head, “Shall I go down and tell my men? To drive away those who are spectating nearby?”

“No need,” Tyrion pondered for a moment, shaking his head, “Father’s order was not to start any more conflicts with the City-State. In such a tense moment, let’s not provoke these jumpy Frostfolk any further.”

Aiden shrugged, “Alright, if that’s the old captain’s command.”

“How’s everyone holding up?” Tyrion suddenly asked after a moment of silence, “I mean, the sailors from the second phase.”

“Ah, returning to this familiar place after half a century,” Aiden sighed lightly, reflecting, “It’s not true if I say it’s calm on board–pretty much every cabin is discussing this docking, discussing engaging with the Frost Navy once again, even the first-phase sailors are affected and joining in their discussions.

Some are expectant, some resistant, but most are just lost because no one had ever imagined what this day would be like before, but… everyone will support your decision; they’re waiting for your command.”

Tyrion didn’t speak for a moment, his mind seemingly replaying the scene he had witnessed on the bridge before.

The Queen’s second order after half a century–“Defend Frost.”

Was that really true? Was that the power left by the Queen, or merely an illusion?

It seemed to no longer matter.

The Queen had once ordered the Mist Fleet to stay away from the main island of Frost, yet here he was, leading the fleet back to this place. Perhaps… the Queen’s orders back then were indeed for this very day.

“Anyway, since we are here,” Tyrion exhaled softly, his breath condensing into white mist in the cold night, “the commander here wants to entertain his ‘comrades-in-arms’; that’s good, I should indeed go and greet them.”

“Do you want me to accompany you?”

“Hmm, take a few more who understand formalities–and make sure to tell them in advance, we aren’t here to fight this time.”

“Okay,” Aiden nodded and then couldn’t help but ask one more question, “Er, any specific requirements for the accompanying personnel?”

Tyrion thought for a moment, “…those with a relatively intact face, limbs attached to the torso, not dropping ‘parts’ as they walk–use your judgment, as long as their clothes cover most of the holes, that’ll do.”

“Understood, Captain.”

…

Inside the harbor defense office, the Chief Defense Commander Lister was making final adjustments to his uniform and medals.

He wasn’t unfamiliar with grand ceremonies, but even as a trained professional soldier, he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of unease about the “event” he was about to face.

It wasn’t the size of the event but its unprecedented nature.

He was to meet the leader of the Mist Fleet–after fifty years of standoff and hostility, the fleet that had “defected” from the City-State had returned here.

Many places within the City-State were still in chaos, the Governor’s disappearance had left the town hall in disarray, but even in such a turbulent situation, he had arranged this special reception.

Because he knew that Frost could no longer bear any further damage, no matter what the officials and counselors at the town hall thought, he needed to keep that formidable Ghost Ship Fleet steady–if, just if, there was to be reconciliation with that “great pirate,” now might be the only chance.

After fastening the last button, Lister let out a small sigh of relief.

Then he lowered his head and picked up the new chest badge that represented the rank of general, calmly observing every detail on it.

“Promotion amidst crisis… well, someone has to step up.”

He raised his head, carefully attaching the badge to his uniform in front of the mirror.

(It’s time for a book recommendation~ Introducing a new fantasy novel “Dao Ying” by Tai Yi Sheng Shui. The future we chase is but the shadow of the past under the stars. Yuan Fang Hai, a monk with a tragic death and no prospects, suddenly opens his eyes with the soul of two lifetimes…)