Ashes Of Deep Sea
Chapter 704 - Chapter 704 Chapter 701 Departure from the Port

Chapter 704: Chapter 701: Departure from the Port Chapter 704: Chapter 701: Departure from the Port The Goat Head was now very anxious, extremely anxious–even though the captain had told it not to panic, its head almost went into vibration mode the moment it heard the news.

Beside it, Alice, having listened to the captain’s news, actually lost her head–literally lost it, and had not yet put it back on.

“You are saying… that every individual of the Ancient Crete Kingdom was replicated from a part of my remains,” Goat Head’s eyes widened, “and it was The Saint who did the replication?”

“Yes,” Duncan nodded, “This also explains many historical puzzles about the Ancient Crete Kingdom that have always plagued scholars. For instance, why this ancient kingdom has almost left no systematic cultural materials–because they were a fleeting tribe created for ‘Creation’, having no cultural system of their own; like why the remains of the Cretes are found on islands that are utterly unsuitable for habitation, even shrouded in mystical phenomena, because all the ancient Cretan cities were established as foundational infrastructures for the Creation, they weren’t meant to serve as settlements…”

Goat Head’s tone grew increasingly complex, “You know I’m not concerned about that…”

“…To suddenly learn that an ancient tribe is actually your ‘offspring’ is indeed quite shocking,” Duncan paused, his face strained, “Honestly, I was quite surprised when I first heard this news…”

At this moment, Alice, who had not been interjecting much, suddenly spoke up, “But… but… but… Mount…”

“Put your head back on before you speak,” Duncan sighed, giving the doll-like Alice a helpless glance, “Sitting there holding your head is quite frightening.”

After Alice’s head had been scared off, she had not reattached it but had instead been holding it while sitting intensely engrossed beside Duncan. Reminded, she hurriedly responded with an “Oh,” quickly pressed her head onto her neck, and immediately spoke more smoothly, “But wasn’t Goat Head originally the Elf Main God anyhow? If we really have to say it, all elves in the world could be considered his offspring, he should be able to accept that…”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Goat Head immediately turned its head away, its resentment seeming to emerge from its base, “I mean, I was just sleeping and half of my body was taken away to serve as a culture medium! And if it were just an ancient tribe, I might have coped, but it came with a bunch of Doomsday Preachers! I always felt those preachy ‘preachers’ were off, kissing the deck as soon as they boarded. I tell you, I would have had goosebumps if the materials allowed it–I’m getting goosebumps now! What a situation, wake up from a sleep and…”

Seeing that Goat Head had rapidly entered complaint mode, Duncan had to knock on the table twice to quieten his somewhat agitated deputy before clearing his throat to break the silence, “Cough cough, the Doomsday Preachers were once normal Cretes.”

Goat Head paused, reluctantly turning its neck, “I know that now… even now, not all of them are crazy… but the thing is…”

It “but”ted for a long time, unable to articulate a clear reason, only murmured for a while, and finally all turned into a long, resigned sigh, its head drooping, no longer uttering a word.

Alice, unable to resist, glanced at Goat Head a couple of times and then looked up at Duncan somewhat helplessly, hesitating before speaking, “Captain… the First Mate doesn’t seem very happy.”

“It’s not about being happy or unhappy, just suddenly receiving very shocking news. It needs some rest and time to calmly think,” Duncan sighed softly, rising from behind the navigation table, “Let’s not disturb him.”

“Oh,” Alice nodded, obediently rising from her chair and following Duncan out of the captain’s cabin. As she passed by the edge of the chart table, she stopped, hesitated for a moment, then reached out to pat Goat Head’s head, “Rest well… you still need to teach me how to make Southern cuisine…”

Duncan, standing by, couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his eye, but this time he said nothing, silently shaking his head and turning to walk out toward the deck.

The sea breeze was gentle, the waves choppy, the distant sea shimmering, still promising good weather.

Duncan and Alice slowly walked onto the deck and then noticed Fenna, who had arrived on the deck at some unknown time, leaning on the rail, blowing in the wind, gazing into the distance as if deep in thought.

The sea breeze blowing from the border direction lifted Fenna’s silvery hair. Hearing movement behind her, she turned her head, lifting her long hair, her face breaking into a smile, “Captain, Alice.”

“I thought you might want to talk more with Helena,” Duncan nodded, casually walking to the rail, “such significant intelligence must be quite shocking for everyone.”

“Yes, such significant intelligence–so His Holiness the Pope probably won’t have much time to chat with me,” Fenna laughed, shaking her head, “She must be meeting with the other Highnesses now… whether concerning the origins of the Ancient Crete Kingdom or the future of our world known as ‘Shelter’, or those… mad ‘Doomsday Surveyors’, it’s enough to make many people lose a lot of hair.”

“Has there been any movement from Phenomenon 004 after that?” Duncan asked.

“No,” Fenna shook her head, “Since you left, we’ve kept a few surveillance personnel there. They report that up to now, there’s been no movement at the assembly site… while in the past, even if the Tomb’s entity didn’t appear, there would occasionally be some strange noises or shadows in the assembly site… it seems just as you said, Phenomenon 004 has truly completely closed off from the outside world.”

“… just like the ‘Sun’ above us, the ‘Tomb’ has reached the end of its life, its mission is over,” Duncan said calmly, “The Tomb Guardian has warned us, even if messages from the Tomb are received in the future, not to respond in any way, and certainly not to send anyone inside… If something comes out of the Tomb, even if it’s the Tomb Guardian himself walking out, do not respond, but leave immediately… It’s no longer the phenomenon 004 you know.”

“We know, His Holiness has already warned all the Saints, from now on, phenomenon 004 will become a completely forbidden territory, apart from a team of monks in rotation monitoring the situation stationed at the edge of the gathering place, no one will approach the ‘Tomb of the Nameless King’…”

Fenna said softly, gradually falling silent again, and after a few seconds, she suddenly sighed: “… Another matter has ended.”

Yes, another matter has ended–but what was she referring to? Was it this very special “gathering”? Or the millennia-old standard procedure of “surveillance-summoning-listening” regarding the Tomb of the Nameless King that had formed within the Four Gods Church? Or perhaps… a legacy left by the ancient creators for this world?

Regardless, they had all ended.

“Did that Tomb Guardian ever mention any knowledge about the ‘Sun’ to you?” After a moment of silence, Fenna suddenly asked, “Did he mention how the ‘Sun’ was constructed, or… if there was any way to repair it, even just to extend its…”

Duncan gently shook his head.

“He was just a guardian, a guardian confined by the phenomenon of the observation station after all systems had stopped, all engineers and designers had left, he has told me everything he knows, but the Sun…”

Duncan paused, looking toward the distant sea.

Phenomenon 001–the Sun was moving slowly across the sky, like an aged and frail old man, staggering towards his destination.

“The Sun was a massive project constructed by the ‘Crawling King’ and the entire Crit Clans, it’s not something a guardian could comprehend.”

“… I see,” Fenna shook her head in self-mockery, “I expected too much.”

“Yes, but that’s alright, because that is the problem I’m going to solve next,” Duncan looked at Fenna, speaking softly, “We’ll find that ‘Designer’ from the Deep Sea Age–starting with opening a door.”

Accompanied by the end of his words, a faint squeaking and creaking noise emerged from deep within Homeloss at the same time, following which, Fenna felt a slight vibration beneath her feet, then, the translucent Spiritual Body sails slowly appeared on the mast–

Homeloss began subtly adjusting its position, turning its bow, the vast and majestic Ghost Ship slowly pointing its bow toward the distant sea–the grand and boundless fog that stood hazily at the edge of the world.

…

Light Breeze Harbor, the solemn and sacred Storm Cathedral still quietly stationed near the coastline, a cleric in a blue and black robe rushed through the upper cathedral’s bridges and arches, almost sprinting to the door of the Pope’s prayer room: “Your Holiness! His Holiness! That ship–Homeloss has moved! It suddenly changed its course ten minutes ago and accelerated away from Light Breeze Harbor!”

“I know,” Helena’s voice came from the prayer room, her tone magnetic with a calming magic power, “There’s no need for such a fuss, it’s just time.”

As her voice fell, the elegant lady turned her head back, refocusing her attention on the ceremonial fire basin before her.

Part of her spirit delved deep into the fire basin, still lingering in the pathway constructed by Spiritual Energy communication.

“… Homeloss has set sail, Fenna just passed me the message… Yes, ‘Tide’ has already taken the escort fleet on the road, they will arrive in time at the designated rendezvous point…

“Banster, what about your so-called live and die fleet?”

A gloomy voice entered Helena’s mind: “It’s ‘Rest’ and ‘No Rest,’ Helena.”

“Alright, alright, more or less the same… where are they?”

“They have also set sail, don’t worry–we will all arrive on time.”