Ashes Of Deep Sea
Chapter 711 - Chapter 711 Chapter 708 Knock Knock

Chapter 711: Chapter 708 “Knock Knock Chapter 711: Chapter 708 “Knock Knock Once before, the “Prime Element Rough Cast” had appeared in the Frost Deep Sea, and now it was here in this border sea area, near the sacred land of the obliteration cultists. This fact exuded a strangely horrifying aura, yet it was not so surprising.

After all, “The Saint” was the thread that connected all of these events.

Morris crouched next to the humanoid rough cast and took out a slender metal sampling cone, carefully piercing the former’s arm. The sampling cone met a layer of extremely tough outer skin–obviously much tougher than the skin of humans, elves, or Senkin people, but still somewhat elastic, like some type of dense, solid special rubber.

He exerted force with his hand, breaking through this tough “skin.” The sampling cone rotated half a circle in the arm of the humanoid rough cast, and when it was pulled out, it brought with it some sludge-like black material.

The familiar black mud, which seemed to have lost its vitality, showed no signs of wriggling or deforming.

“I’m starting to feel a bit nauseous…” Sherry frowned tightly, the filthy black mud made her involuntarily get goosebumps, and it brought to mind those chilling incidents that had happened in Frost–replicas bred in the mist, ancient god tentacles continuously creeping upwards from the deep sea, living sludge surging through pipes and sewers…

However, Agatha, the Abyssal Hound beside her, seemed totally unaffected and curiously approached the humanoid rough cast, sniffing around it in circles as if it had discovered something, occasionally stopping to think.

Seeing this, Sherry immediately showed disgust, “Agatha, what are you doing? Don’t you find this thing disgusting… Hey, don’t rub your head on it…”

“Agatha, did you discover something?” Fenna asked seriously from the side.

“It’s not much of a discovery, I’m seeing this thing for the first time too, I’ve only heard the captain describe it before…” Agatha wagged its head, “I just find the scent of this thing… somewhat familiar.”

Duncan immediately raised his eyebrows, “Somewhat familiar?”

“…The ‘smell’ of home,” Agatha muttered, “but I’m not sure… because it’s faint, it just indeed feels a bit familiar.”

Duncan’s expression gradually grew solemn, but he did not speak for a moment.

Initially, he had discovered a large number of “Prime Element Rough Casts” in the Frost Deep Sea, but to thoroughly eliminate the risks beneath the Frost and prevent the awakening of the ancient god’s replicas, he had burned the ancient god tentacle that served as a “pillar.” This also ignited all the “rough casts” in that deep sea area, resulting in him not bringing any samples back from there–so until today, Agatha had never actually encountered these “replica semiproducts” created by the power of The Saint.

And now, Agatha had smelled the scent of the Mysterious Deep Sea from these “semiproducts.”

Duncan faintly felt that Agatha’s discovery might indicate some… “problem.”

Lucressia noticed the change in her father’s expression and spoke with some concern, “Do you think something is not right?”

Duncan was serious, “Why do these ‘humanoid rough casts’ carry the scent of the Mysterious Deep Sea?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Lucressia was a bit puzzled, “All these things are born from The Saint’s power, it’s normal for them to carry the scent of the Mysterious Deep Sea…”

Duncan turned his head, “According to the information we currently have, ‘humans’ were also created by The Saint. Why has Agatha never smelled ‘the scent of home’ in humans?”

The surroundings instantly quieted down, Lucressia blinked, and finally realized what the “problem” her father had detected was.

Her gaze fell on the “rough cast” on the deck, which lacked differentiated facial features and limbs, and her expression gradually became serious.

Duncan spoke softly, as if in thought, “If all mortal races are derivatives of the mysterious, and Profound Demons are also creations of The Saint, and we consider ‘humans’ and ‘Profound Demons’ as two ends of a balance, then these humanoid-shaped ‘rough casts’… which are they more aligned with, ‘humans’ or ‘Profound Demons’?”

“I remember you said that these mud-doll-like ‘rough casts’ are likely just ‘semiproducts’ from when The Saint initially created the mortal races, or products roughly processed according to the Primordial Blueprint. Initially, the ancient god tentacles in the Frost Deep Sea were just parts of The Saint’s replicas, thereby they could only create these ‘rough casts.’ But if taken a step further, these ‘rough casts’ might turn into actual ‘humans’…”

Lucressia slowly began to speak, recalling the information about the Frost incident that her father had once shared with her.

“And now, Agatha feels that these ‘rough casts’ carry the scent of the Mysterious Deep Sea, or in other words, it feels that these rough casts… resemble its kin.”

“I didn’t say that!” Agatha suddenly murmured but then lay down, looking a bit uncertain, “Well, okay… They do seem a bit similar…”

Sherry blinked, glanced at Agatha, then the captain, and looked around, still a bit confused, “What are you guys talking about?”

Duncan glanced at the girl and raised his hand toward the “roughcast” on deck, “We were discussing at which step ‘humans’ began to diverge from Profound Demons, or rather, at which step these human-shaped Profound Demons began to turn into ‘humans.'”

Sherry reacted after a moment and her eyes suddenly widened, “Holy shit?”

Duncan did not explain further and just nodded slightly before turning to head back to the helm station at the stern– they were already very close to the Six Nautical Miles threshold, and proceeding further required extra caution. He planned to move the Homeloss slightly forward to check the situation ahead.

But just as he was about to step forward, a faint “thud thud” noise suddenly came from outside the hull, interrupting his movement and everyone’s train of thought.

Shortly after, more “thud thud” noises reached everyone’s ears.

Something was hitting the hull. At first, it was two or three, then more–many more!

Fenna’s expression changed slightly, and she rushed to the edge of the deck, leaning over to look at the sea below–

Black human-shaped objects, like “roughcasts” kneaded from mud, were colliding with the Homeloss’s outer hull. At least dozens, perhaps hundreds, had undulated up and down on the calm sea surface, as if pushed by invisible waves, thud, thud, thud…

But even more chilling was something farther away–

In front of the Homeloss, further out at sea, more blurred outlines were slowly drifting over from the fog-laden sea. Countless human-shaped “roughcasts” rolled and undulated like driftwood in the water, drifting in the same direction, bumping against the Homeloss’s hull again and again with dull impacts, then rolling and changing their floating trajectory, continuing toward the rear, toward the Brilliant Starship…

On the foredeck of the Homeloss, the priestess Paulette Ginny with dark golden curls, clad in the black robe of the Death Church, frowned deeply as she stood at the edge of the deck, watching the sea below with eerie, unsettling outlines of human-like roughcasts drifting in from afar.

A junior priest stood beside her, his face visibly uneasy, “Bishop Paulette Ginny, what are these things?”

“… They are spawned by the power of The Saint, supposedly drifted from that so-called ‘Holy Land,'” Paulette Ginny said offhandedly–a voice in her mind was speaking, giving her information about these “human-like roughcasts.” That voice came from Homeloss. It was from “Miss Agatha,” who followed Captain Duncan in shadow form, “Don’t mind them; these things are ‘dead.’ As long as we don’t make direct contact, they won’t pose a threat to our ironclad.”

“Yes, Bishop.”

The junior priest bowed and left, but he quickly hurried back to Paulette Ginny.

“Bishop! There are also some underneath the ship!”

“Underneath?!”

Hurrying to the lower deck, Paulette Ginny heard the thudding noises that nearly resonated throughout the entire hold.

The impacts continued incessantly, seeming to come from all directions, the noise created by countless hard objects floating in the water hitting the steel, the sound echoing in the compartment, dull and unsettling. Paulette Ginny even felt an illusion–

It was as if countless people were intentionally hammering the hull with large mallets, creating echoes.

She even subconsciously visualized, imagining countless faceless human-shaped “roughcasts” floating around the Homeloss, not just on the surface but underwater as well–hundreds of black muddy figures clung to the ship’s bottom, striking it, scraping it, trying to pierce through the thick steel, sinking this intruder into the holy place…

She quickly shook her head, suppressing these potentially consequential “associations” and turned to the technical personnel with her, “Can the hull be damaged?”

“If it’s just the current level of impact, it won’t cause any damage to the hull,” the mechanic immediately responded, “It’s just impacts; the force won’t exceed that of driftwood in the sea… But honestly, these sounds are too unsettling, and ever since ‘those things’ started hitting near the engine room, dissonant noises have begun to emerge from the steam engine…”

Paulette Ginny’s expression shifted slightly, “Has the machinery been cursed?”

“It hasn’t gotten that severe, but the machinery does seem disturbed. I hope you can send church priests down to perform a soothing mass for the steam boilers and the differential engine.”

“Alright, I will notify the church to arrange someone to come down,” Paulette Ginny said immediately.

And just as her words fell, a hoarse, indistinct voice suddenly entered her mind–mixed with the constant knocking around, mingling in the reverberation of the hull, as if it seeped directly from the cold seawater outside the hull into her very soul–

“You will become like them… just like us…”