Ashes Of Deep Sea
Chapter 780 - Chapter 780 Chapter 777 Elimination and Alliance

Chapter 780: Chapter 777: Elimination and Alliance Chapter 780: Chapter 777: Elimination and Alliance The confrontation on the sea surface became a more complex situation–a powerful Mist Fleet emerged from the cold wind, with a fourth force appearing in the original three-way standoff. However, from another angle, things seemed to have simplified.

Cold Harbor and the Moco Navy no longer needed to worry about the gunfire opposite them or the deterrence of the Church Fleet.

Solenna stared fixedly at the steel face, with neither fear nor the slightest flicker of doubt in his eyes–though he knew the abilities of this “Iron Admiral,” he also knew the Mist Fleet wasn’t invincible. The Undead could control the two flagships by surprise but couldn’t control the other ships in the fleet. If this really turned into a chaotic battle, it wouldn’t be good for anyone.

Tirian Abnormal’s choice to meet this way indicated he wanted to “talk.”

“Cold Harbor needs sunlight.” After a long standoff, Solenna broke the silence with a somber voice.

“Yes, Cold Harbor needs sunlight, and now the commander of the Moco Navy, your old friend Hobo, is also telling me–Moco needs sunlight,” the steel face mouthed, emitting a tremulous metal sound, “and do you know? Yorton City, Hepi, Bandor Island, farther away Phaeron, Moco… The darkness has begun to eat away at this world, and the islands under the protection of sunlight are just a small part among all the city-states… Everyone needs sunlight.”

Solenna’s facial muscles were tense, but his voice was even calmer than before, “Captain Tirian, do you think it’s useful to say this now? I need to first ensure Cold Harbor survives–unless, you’re willing to bring out the ‘Sun Shard’ that fell in Frost.”

“…It’s already on the way to Cold Harbor.” The steel face calmly stated.

Solenna’s face, which had been tense, suddenly registered shock–he had prepared many things to say, but this unexpected answer left his mind somewhat blank.

Even the entire bridge suddenly grew quiet.

“Turn back now, and you should just be able to see it arriving at the north coast of Cold Harbor,” Tirian’s voice echoed in the quiet bridge, while the Undead sailors, enshrouded in chilly fog, silently released their grip on the bridge sailors and retreated to the side as if standing by, “Let the Moco Navy take this Sun Shard from here before this standoff escalates out of control.”

Solenna fell silent for a few seconds before slowly speaking, “What about Frost?”

“Frost is safer than all of you imagine–we have our own ‘safeguards,’ no need for you to worry,” Tirian calmly said, “You and Hobo’s most important task now is to return to your respective city-states and quickly restore everything under the sunlight.”

“…What do you want?” Solenna suddenly voiced, “There’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world, a simple truth I understand–state your thoughts, Governor Tirian.”

“…I need to establish an ‘Alliance Mechanism’ that operates under the cloak of night,” the steel face gazed into Solenna’s eyes, “led by Frost, covering the entire Chill Sea–I need full support from Cold Harbor and Moco Harbor.”

After a brief contemplation, Solenna quickly guessed the intent of the “Iron Admiral,” furrowing his brow and instinctively looking up for the three Death Church warships initially hovering on the edge of the “sunlight,” only to find the ships had at some point moved close to the Mist Fleet, pausing beside Sea Mist as part of the formation.

“…I understand. Gain sunlight, take responsibility, those who don’t want responsibility… we’ll handle it,” he withdrew his gaze from the window and nodded at the steel face, “Regarding Hobo…”

“He agreed three seconds before you did.” Tirian remarked casually.

“Alright, I have no more questions.”

The Undead retreated into the mist in silence, the frost-laden cold mist gradually dissipating in the bridge, the vast chunks of ice on the sea surface visibly shrinking in size–the Mist Fleet’s deterrence against both sides of the standoff was lifted.

Beside the communication console, the phone crackled intermittently, its indicator light flickering on and off–the communication soldier hesitantly lifted his head, looking at his commander.

Solenna’s voice was stern: “Pick it up, do I need to say it?”

The communication soldier picked up the phone, and after a moment, lifted his gaze, “It’s the public channel from Moco…”

Solenna stepped forward with an unsurprised expression, took the phone, and put it to his ear, listening to the voice coming through–

“Solenna, listen, after I return…”

“You can tell my nephew about everything that happened today–or I’ll tell him myself later.”

“…You really are a rare bastard.”

“Yes, thank you, you too.”

“…Yes, thank you, goodbye.”

Solenna hung up the phone, his gaze crossing the broad window ahead, watching the vast Endless Sea enveloped by the night–the Mist Fleet, wrapped in piercing cold wind, slowly moving towards the distance, gradually sinking into the darkness.

Watching the pale gold “sunlight” gradually fading on the nearby sea, Tirian, standing at the bow, took a deep breath and remained silent for a long time before he slightly turned his head and asked the person beside him, “Do you think this outcome is acceptable?”

“There is no better choice, this is the best result,” a deep, hoarse voice broke the silence in the darkness. A tall and robust figure, dressed in a black trench coat and covered in thick bandages, emerged from the shadows. “Sunlight is limited. The past survival method of each City-State fending for itself no longer works. A united system based on a strong central nucleus is required to let as many people as possible survive–

“Sunlight rationing, a joint defense fleet, macro-control of resources, and collective defense against various threats in the night–all these require the establishment of a union. Initially, the Church was supposed to undertake this task, but now their power is also limited.”

Tirian looked at the three Church warships that appeared blurred in the night and after a few seconds of silence, he said, “Dragging a Sun Shard from Frost to Cold Harbor requires the most powerful high-speed tug and takes six days. This is the average time it takes to transfer a Sun Shard among most City-States in Chill Sea…

“If a City-State without ‘Sunlight’ encounters a sudden abnormal event, the time it takes for ‘Sunlight’ to arrive could allow the disaster to spiral out of control. Thus, we need a massive fleet that can be ready at any moment to support any City-State–these fleets must continuously patrol through the night, along with the Church’s patrol fleet, and that should cover the entire Chill Sea… but only the Chill Sea.”

“Covering Chill Sea is enough, other seas should have their own plans,” Duncan shook his head, “More than that, do you have any doubts about me asking you to send the Sun Shard from Frost to Cold Harbor?”

Tirian shook his head, “No.”

He turned around and faced those bandaged eyes squarely.

“If I am to hold the most ‘Sunlight’, I can never convincingly establish a reliable and fair ‘Chill Sea Union’; regardless, as long as I want to be the one distributing Sunlight, I cannot keep the Sun Shard in Frost,” he said unhurriedly, then suddenly smiled, “And besides… Frost’s real protection now is your flame, isn’t it?”

Duncan didn’t speak but simply nodded lightly.

Tirian hesitated for a while, but finally couldn’t help asking, “How are things ‘over there’ for you?”

“We are sailing through a fissure in time, unsure of how long it will continue.”

Duncan spoke casually and then looked down at his own body–he was surprised, as he had prepared himself to lose contact temporarily with his “avatars” after crossing the Six Nautical Miles boundary, but it seemed… the operation of these avatars was still good.

He was able to converse here with Tirian and could normally perceive the situation on the other side with Prand, while at the same time, his main consciousness was still aboard Homeloss, undergoing a voyage towards the end of the world–this experience was strange.

He noticed the gaze coming from beside him.

“This long journey, I didn’t take you but instead took your sister,” Duncan raised his eyelids to look at Tirian, “Any resentments?”

Tirian was startled and quickly composed himself, his gaze returning to its usual calm and stern demeanor, “No, I know what I need to do–your arrangements are sensible and justified.”

Hearing the other’s overly emphasized response, Duncan said nothing, but a slight smile appeared at the corner of his eyes under the bandages.

He turned around and, together with Tirian, gazed into the distance.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Tirian suddenly heard a voice next to his ear–

“Let as many people as possible survive as long as possible.”

He turned around, somewhat surprised.

“You, Lucy, and everyone aboard Homeloss, every person in the City-States, each of you has tasks to perform, and the common goal of all these tasks is survival–to preserve as much as possible on this world–life, memories, civilization, everything, try your utmost to keep them.”

His father didn’t turn around; he continued gazing into the distance, speaking quietly–as if he were talking to himself, yet also as if admonishing.

“Even if the sun no longer rises, even if the night ultimately engulfs everything, even if the real world has begun to collapse and the future seems devoid of hope, remember this… survival, even if it’s just one more day.

“You just need to do these things.

“The rest, leave it to your old man. Let the old man figure it out.”

Tirian stared at his father, lost in thought, and did not speak for a long time.

Duncan did not speak further; he just looked ahead at the bow of the ship, at the end of the night–

In his other field of vision, the uniform grey “background color” suddenly began showing indistinct patches of light and shadow.

The “navigational route” in the fissures of time seemed about to reach its end.