Ashes Of Deep Sea
Chapter 615 - Chapter 615 Chapter 614 Beneath the Fault

Chapter 615: Chapter 614: Beneath the Fault Chapter 615: Chapter 614: Beneath the Fault Duncan felt his mind spreading throughout the ship, his perception unfurling like a spider’s web, every part of the ship seemed to become an extension of his own bodily structure–more smoothly than the last time, more clearly than the last time. This Ghost Ship sailing on the edge of the Dreamscape was revealing all its secrets to him, unreservedly.

His spirit began to sink, from the towering stern deck down to the cabins beneath the deck, to the interlayer where gunpowder and cannonballs were stored, all the way to the storage hold for the anchor chains, to the water cistern… from every wall, to every support pillar, from every rope, to every lantern…

The entire ship was gradually transforming into a detailed “projection” that appeared in his mind.

Duncan compared this projected structure in his mind with his memories, hoping to spot some incongruity–perhaps a crossbeam that didn’t exist in the structural design, perhaps a cabin that had never appeared in the physical realm, perhaps a storage layer that no one had ever discovered before–that would be where Homeloss and the consciousness of the Goat’s Head had misaligned in their merger.

Initially, it was a sudden thought that emerged in his mind, Duncan was merely aware that this ship was not just a dream of the “Goat’s Head” and that the “memories” of Homeloss might also be at play, hence he wanted to seek evidence of the latter’s existence. But as his perception continued to spread throughout the ship, this “try-it-and-see” thought was becoming more and more firm, as though an invisible voice was guiding, telling him–

Something really lay hidden deep within this ship, Homeloss was indeed trying to tell him some secrets, in someplace imperceptible from the physical dimension, Homeloss still “remembered” some events that had occurred in subspace.

And this concealed memory pointed to one of the most vital secrets at the heart of this complex Dreamscape–

The origin of the Goat’s Head, and the connection between this ship of the Dreamscape and Silantis.

Was it his own Intuition? Or was Homeloss truly whispering to him incessantly?

Duncan felt a hazy thought emerge in his mind, but he didn’t dwell on this question. He focused on his task, searching for any potential clues.

This was not easy, because even with his most familiar ship, Duncan did not dare to claim he could clearly recall the position of every item on board Homeloss; he was more hopeful that his “Intuition” would assist in this process, to help him find some place out of accord.

However, he hadn’t anticipated that this intuition wouldn’t be necessary–the place of dissonance was even more obvious and more striking than he had imagined.

He perceived a very large “perception gap” below the third deck.

Duncan’s brow furrowed instantly, and while he gripped the ship’s wheel in his hand, he looked down towards the place he “saw” in his perception: right beneath himself.

The bottom of the ship?

Something occurred to Duncan, and he hesitated for a moment, then let go of the wheel he was holding.

His connection with the “ship’s rudder” was severed.

But his perception from the entire ship did not cease; he could still feel the ship connected to him–it was still sailing swiftly through the boundless darkness and fog, and outside the ship’s hull, the massive structures that resembled roots and branches of plants still existed and were whizzing past all around.

Silantis’s “Luminescence” was also there, still circling incessantly around the helm station.

Watching this scene, a slight enlightenment arose in Duncan’s heart: It seemed that once a connection was established, it wouldn’t break until this Dreamscape ended.

Because he had entered the dream as a reflection, he himself was now part of this Dreamscape–every action he took here would no longer be seen as “foreign intrusion” and wouldn’t be easily expelled or erased by the Dreamscape’s own repair forces.

After confirming this, Duncan breathed a sigh of relief, then hurried away from the helm station, but before he headed through the depths of the cabin, he doubled back to the quarterdeck and returned to the captain’s quarters.

Near the door of the captain’s quarters, he saw a simple and ancient lantern hanging quietly on the wall.

To go down to the lower structures of Homeloss, one needed to carry a lantern–although he was unsure if this rule still applied aboard the “Ship of Dreams,” he decided to proceed cautiously.

Agatha’s figure appeared in a nearby mirror, watching Duncan with curiosity, “Captain, what are you about to do?”

“I’m going down to the hold,” Duncan quickly replied, turning back to glance towards the direction of the navigation table–The Goat’s Head was still quietly sitting there, seemingly unresponsive, “There is something at the bottom of the ship.”

At his words, Agatha looked startled, her expression turning serious at once.

“Let’s walk and talk,” Duncan then said, “Don’t discuss it here.”

Saying that, he had already picked up the antiquely fashioned brass lantern, opened the door, and exited the room.

He strode across the misty, empty deck–the “fire seed” had already lit the lantern, causing it to emit a faint green glow. The drifting fog in the air around him receded slightly in the light, then closed in behind him–within the illuminated shadows cast by the light, an extra shadow moved swiftly by his side, almost overlapping with his own.

Agatha’s voice came from the shadows, “The ship’s keel you mentioned… Is it the area you normally keep me away from?”

“That’s right,” Duncan nodded as he opened the door to the lower decks, quickly descending the stairs with a lantern in hand, “In our reality, the keel of Homeloss connects to subspace–there’s a fragmented area where beyond each fissure lies a reflection of subspace itself. It’s dangerous for anyone to approach without my accompaniment.”

“…Just listening to your description already sounds dangerous,” Agatha’s shadow seemed to shiver. Although her expression was not visible, the shadow clearly faded a bit, which suggested that she was a little nervous, “Judging by your reaction, it seems that there has been a change in the situation at the keel of ‘Dreamship’?”

“There appeared a structure I’ve never seen before,” Duncan spoke rapidly as he moved through the decks beneath and the vast, dimly lit storage spaces, descending deeper level by level, “Not far ahead, right at the bottom of the last staircase… is the fragmented area.”

After rushing through the dimly lit corridors and stairwells with an odd atmosphere and even inverse shadows, Duncan and Agatha’s shadow abruptly stopped.

They had reached the end of the last staircase, and the door that led to the fragmented area of the keel stood silently in Duncan’s view.

Agatha’s shadow “crawled” alongside Duncan at the stairwell, then rose slowly against the wall, and from the silhouette’s contours, it seemed as if she was looking at the door ahead cautiously and nervously.

“I can’t feel anything beyond the door,” she said in a hushed voice, “Even at this close distance, I can’t sense anything… It’s as if there’s a pure ‘void’ on the other side.”

Duncan looked at Agatha, then lowered his gaze to the lantern in his hand.

The gentle glow from the lantern illuminated their surroundings. However, when it reached the door ahead, it seemed as if something absorbed it, leaving only half the brightness visible.

He took a soft breath, stepped forward, and pushed open the door.

In the real world, the space behind this door was the bottommost, fragmented cabin of Homeloss–its structure floating in subspace.

But here, what first struck Duncan was an endless expanse of darkness.

He almost thought he was about to fall into this boundless void.

Duncan’s nerves instinctively tensed, with the vast darkness presenting a stark contrast to the scenes within the cabins, catching him off guard. But soon, he saw that within the darkness, there were other things.

His eyes gradually adapted and discerned the colossal entities emerging from the darkness:

First was an incredibly massive, continuous structure, broad as if it were a pathway floating in void, its ends slightly raised. Then, becoming clearer, many “branches” connected to both sides of this continuous structure, neatly lined in the darkness, extending to the horizon like… ribs.

Duncan stood in the midst of this grand, continuous structure. Besides the central “trunk” under his feet and the rib-like fine branches around, there were no cabin walls in sight–not even the fragmented walls. Between those “ribs,” there was nothing but darkness and void, with strands of mist swirling within this vast space.

Duncan knew what it was.

At the same time, Agatha’s shadow “crawled” out from the door and settled next to Duncan’s shadow. She stared in astonishment at the incredible scene before her, taking a moment before suddenly realizing, “Wait, this thing is…”

“The dragonbone of Homeloss,” Duncan said softly, his voice grave.

“Dragonbone… Of course, Homeloss is a sailship built a century ago, it surely has a dragonbone…” Agatha hesitated, her tone somewhat strange, “But it looks…”

Duncan paid no attention to Agatha. His focus was almost entirely captivated by the astonishing structure that twisted and extended in the darkness.

This was the first time he had seen the dragonbone of Homeloss–as per the world’s shipbuilding regulations, a completed sailship of war would not expose its dragonbone within the visible areas of the cabins, and the “bottom compartment” of Homeloss that should contain the dragonbone had fragmented and floated in subspace, leaving no discernible structure.

He had never thought about what the ship’s dragonbone might look like.

Now he knew.

He walked onto that path floating in the darkness, following it forward until he stopped before the first “joint.”

The light from the lantern illuminated the giant raised, connecting structure, and further away, the next “joint” and many more “joints.”

This segmented “connecting structure” certainly didn’t meet the construction standards for a sailship’s dragonbone, as the dragonbone for a conventional old-world sailship needed to be a solid piece of wood to withstand the sea’s tumult.

But Duncan believed, the dragonbone of Homeloss, with its numerous “connecting structures” at the bottom, must be sturdier than any dragonbone in the world.

For it was the spine of an ancient deity.