Ashes Of Deep Sea
Chapter 454 - Chapter 454 Chapter 455 Thinking and Testing

Chapter 454: Chapter 455 Thinking and Testing Chapter 454: Chapter 455 Thinking and Testing The ripples in the darkness gradually calmed, and the pale text ceased to appear, no matter how intently Zhou Ming focused or searched through the darkness.

Indeed, a conversation, undeniably a conversation, and it seemed… to be taking place among the gods.

At the very least, Zhou Ming recognized the name “Bartok.”

In the darkness, Zhou Ming stood still, no longer attempting to cause new ripples, instead plunging into deep contemplation–the tremendous amount of information surged like a tide within his mind, beneath the surface of calm thought lay immense astonishment and tangled thoughts.

Was this some sort of cruel joke? Apparently not likely.

So, was this real? If so, when did this conversation happen? Was it a record of something that had occurred, or… was it happening right here and now, in some mysterious dimension? “They” were conversing, and this conversation… was reflected in this dark, eerie place.

Bartok, the name of the God of Death, that was certain. So what did the other names represent? The most logical thought was that these names all represented gods, so the King of Fire could likely be “Tarrikin,” worshiped by the Fire Transmitter as the “Eternal Kindling”… How about the Queen of Leviathan? Was she the Storm Goddess?

Another name for the Storm Goddess was “Queen of Leviathan”?!

In the dark, Zhou Ming’s brow gradually furrowed; the extremely unique title “Queen of Leviathan” prompted various conjectures and associations in his mind, but more overwhelming than this was the fourth name–

The one conversing with the gods was named “LH-02”.

If the conversants represented the four gods, the last must be the deity presiding over both wisdom and foolishness… Rahm.

The name of Rahm… was “LH-02”? This sounded not like a name, but more like a serial number! A sequence belonging to a machine!

Countless wild speculations surged, Zhou Ming felt his brain seething as if boiling, and he even had to force himself to curb his wild ideas to prevent them from turning into overly absurd forms. Amidst organizing these jumbled conjectures, he didn’t miss the shocking information mentioned in the “conversation.”

The situation was bleak; a critical state was accelerating… The cluster controllers had begun replicating themselves or had already completely gone out of control…

Just these two sentences were enough to make Zhou Ming sense the tense, heavy atmosphere. What situation were “They” referring to? Was it the state of the mortal world? Then the accelerating critical state… did it indicate the imminent collapse of a massive system?

Zhou Ming instantly recalled his last conversation with Agatha–Prand and Frost had successive incidents; anomaly 001 had a “malfunction.” This series of events seemed like the “premonitory phase” of a massive system continuously malfunctioning.

And the cluster controllers had begun replicating themselves…

Zhou Ming’s expression suddenly turned tense; a phrase surfaced in his mind–

“This is a replica.”

In the darkness, he couldn’t help but inhale gently, subconsciously looking towards the space where the text had appeared, almost expecting more information to emerge.

Of course, nothing appeared.

Zhou Ming’s expression turned solemn as he withdrew his gaze.

Of course, there were many issues still worth focusing on, despite having only seen a few lines of conversation; each line carried an enormous amount of information behind it, and even each conversant’s name deserved prolonged contemplation–why did Rahm, Gomona, and Tarrikin use “aliases,” while the God of Death Bartok used his plain real name? The information that likely pertained to the God of Wisdom Rahm’s “LH-02” also mentioned a suspicious Visitor and stated they “just showed a dog head and left”… What was that all about?

Frankly, if the information in the earlier sentences hadn’t been so overwhelming, Zhou Ming would probably have focused all his attention on that last “dog head.”

But now, that discordant statement just seemed a bit peculiar.

At that moment, a faint noise suddenly came from deep within the darkness, breaking the storm in Zhou Ming’s mind.

It sounded like something quietly shattering; initially very faint, almost like an auditory illusion, but almost instantly, the shattering sounds became clear and frequent. Subsequently, countless chaotic lines of light emerged in the dark space–the increasing noise filled Zhou Ming’s mind, and the entire dark space began to rapidly disintegrate and shatter, swirling lights rising from all directions. The next second, he heard a loud “bang” in his mind!

The next second, a brief sensation of weightlessness and dizziness “yanked” him back to the real world, the feeling of sitting in the chair making him abruptly open his eyes.

Flames surged before his eyes; the unnamed black leather book in his hands was fiercely ablaze!

Alice’s astonished cry rang out from beside him, “It’s burning! Captain! The book is burning!”

Startled, Zhou Ming immediately reached out to touch the intense flames and controlled the fire in a blink, yet the book was burning at an exceptionally rapid rate. In just the blink of an eye, most of the book had turned to ashes, leaving only a few scattered pages remaining on the table.

As if seeping blood, a dark crimson liquid oozed from the remnants of the half-book, saturating and disintegrating its pages. Duncan furrowed his brows as he turned those ruined pages, finding them turned into a mushy substance, clearly unreadable.

He lifted his head, his expression subtly complex, “It seems I didn’t do much.”

“From what we can tell… this book probably couldn’t withstand your power,” Maurice hesitated for a few seconds before cautiously speaking, “This is a clear case of ‘Transcendent overload.'”

“Couldn’t withstand my power?” Duncan murmured under his breath with a frown.

Just couldn’t withstand his own power? The book had just endured… perhaps not just his power.

Perhaps, just now, it had acted as a kind of medium– a medium far beyond its own limits.

Duncan recalled the golden Sun God mask he had obtained in Prand– through it, he had glimpsed the “True Sun God,” but it had also resulted in the mask’s ruin.

Maurice didn’t know what Duncan was thinking, but noticing the captain’s uneasy expression, he couldn’t help but add, “This book was likely just a ‘Replication,’ created through a special ritual from the ‘original’ Transcendent item, and such items are indeed fragile…”

Duncan raised his head, “So, if there was an ‘original,’ it might stabilize what I… ‘read’?”

Maurice adjusted his monocle, “…theoretically.”

Alice, looking around, finally couldn’t help but move closer, “Captain, did you see something just now? You seem so serious…”

Duncan rubbed his temples, the visions he had seen in the darkness resurfacing in his mind, but just as he was about to speak, he suddenly controlled the urge to divulge the truth.

For the more fragile mortals, many “informations” were inherently toxic.

“I saw something–different from what Maurice saw,” he said carefully after a few seconds, “but I can’t reveal its content because it might harm you.”

Maurice and Fenna instantly exchanged glances, their eyes becoming tense and earnest the next second.

Maurice, after pondering briefly, spoke, “Different from what I saw… does this mean the book shows different content depending on the reader?”

“It’s possible, but it might also only show different content in ‘my’ presence,” Duncan theorized, his tone tinged with regret, “It’s a pity… I should have been the last to test it, letting Tyrion take a look at the book content beforehand could have given us more clues. Now the only ‘sample’ is destroyed.”

Maurice’s expression became slightly peculiar, his mouth opened but no words emerged, whereas Fenna was more straightforward, “Shouldn’t we also consider Mr. Tyrion’s mental and physical health?”

“Reading more books is better than watching dances,” Duncan waved his hand dismissively, “Besides, I am watching over him, nothing bad can happen… But enough of that.”

He shook his head, then his gaze fell on Fenna, deciding to indirectly verify something.

“Fenna, have you ever heard of the title ‘Leviathan Queen’?”

“Leviathan Queen?” Fenna was startled, her expression genuinely puzzled, “I haven’t heard of it… Is it a ruler of some City-State? But I haven’t heard of any City-State by that name.”

Duncan observed Fenna’s expression while also concentrating to sense any abnormal aura fluctuations or Transcendent phenomena.

He was curious whether mentioning “Leviathan Queen” in the real world would trigger any phenomena.

But after half a minute, nothing happened.

“Well, forget this question for now,” Duncan shook his head and then looked at Maurice, “LH-02, have you heard of this?”

“No,” Maurice, puzzled but noting Duncan’s serious demeanor, recalled seriously before shaking his head, “Sounds like some kind of machine code?”

Both “saints” seemed sincere in their responses.

They truly hadn’t heard of these two terms.

But that still didn’t rule out the possibility that these names corresponded to “Storm Goddess Gomona” and “God of Wisdom Rahm.”

After all, above the saints are the popes and above the City-State cathedrals are several “Pilgrimage Church Arks” that patrol the Endless Sea– those secrets closest to the deities, all preserved in those places far from the mundane world.

“Forget these names for now,” after confirming that nothing indeed happened in the cabin, Duncan sighed and shook his head, “Do not mention them, especially once we leave the Homeloss, don’t tell anyone these words.”