Chapter 137 “Two Descendants”
From the city-states of Pland and Lansa to the north, crossing the busy “Great Cross Route” of trading merchants, the frosted weather was eternally entrenched over this mass of water known as the “Cold Sea”. As a result, these parts presented a different set of challenges compared to the warmer climates in the south.
Here, fine ice constantly drifted between the current lines, and large icebergs often rose from beneath the depths without warning. This not only created a danger for unsuspecting ships, but also created a barrier for the seafaring ships that’s trying to cross the islands.
But compared to the large iceberg that’s controlled by the laws of nature and the visions that only exist in legends, the captains who make a living in the Cold Sea had something far more dangerous whom they feared. Who was it? The name was Tyrian Abnomar, the infamous son of Duncan Abnomar and pirate captain of the undead fleet roaming these waters. They’ve been raiding the trading routes here for the past half-century and would continue to do so in the eyes of those sailors.
On the edge of an island blocked by special currents and fogs, a steel warship with iron-gray paint, rigid lines, and a towering bow was quietly moored in the dock. Right now, suppliers and sailors are busy adding fuel and replenishing the supplies on board.
If anyone standing here had even the slightest knowledge of the history regarding the Frost city-state, they would surely notice the naval uniforms worn by the sailors are not right – the designs are from half a century ago. In addition, they’re also wearing white emblems on the chest, a tradition that’s only used when there’s mourning.
In the captain’s room on the upper floor of the metal battleship, a man in black naval overcoat was currently flipping through a document in his hand. The guy was tall and thin, with a towering nose and deep eye-sockets. Yet, despite the unhealthy appearance, he’s well kept aside from the eyepatch on the left eye, his signature piece of piratehood.
At the same time, a large parrot with colorful tail feathers rested on a nearby wooden frame, staring intently at the brass device beside the emaciated man—a complex set of lenses surrounded by a circle of rocker arms and small lenses. The center was a large crystal ball, which looked luxurious and mysterious.
“Perley, if you touch it, I will send you to the Bright Star next month to accompany those puppets and ghosts next month.” The emaciated man said without lifting his head.
“Ah, cruelty!” The large parrot immediately cawed, shaking the wooden frame like a child, “Ah, cruel! What a cruel captain Tyrian is!”
“...... I should have asked which bastard taught you this,” Tyrian Abnomar frowned, “Can’t you say something else?”
The large parrot flapped its wings triumphantly: “Perley learned it himself! Perley learned it himself!”
Tyrian rubbed his vexed temple: “Damn it, and that sentence too...”
Exactly then, a knock on the door interrupted the antics of the pair.
“Come in,” Tyrian turned his head and spoke.
The corners of Tyrian’s mouth visibly twitched, and then he heard his sister continue: “Everything else is easy to repair, but I can’t find a crystal lens to replace the core.”
Tyrian continued to be deadpan at her sister’s rambling.
“Do you have a new one over on your side? I’ll trade you one with a mineral sample from the border.”
“...... Only two city-states can produce spirit lenses that meet your accuracy requirements, and the main trading channels are controlled by the Truth Academy. You know full well how little and limited those are in circulation...” Tyrian finally couldn’t help but sigh, “It’s only been two months since you last broke your detection device...”
“I found a very interesting sample, probably floated up from the deep sea,” Lucretia said.
“...... Samples from the deep sea aren’t good enough. Although those things can be sold to the Truth Academy for a high price...”
“I also collected some phantoms left behind after a border-collapse.”
“This is not...” Tyrian covered his head due to the headache, “The main thing is I really don’t know where to get you a new set of lenses now...”
Lucretia thought for a moment: “How about robbery?”
“I can’t always rely on robbery,” Tyrian sighed, “and the Sea Mist Fleet is preparing its transition to normalized operations. Our main income now is based on protection fees...”
“Oh, forget it.” Lucretia finally shrugged like she didn’t care anymore. However, her latter half of the sentence instantly sent the infamous pirate up the walls, “Then I’ll ask again tomorrow.”
“You... forget it, I know I can’t stop your exploration plans.” Tyrian finally deflated and sighed helplessly (he really didn’t know how much he had already sighed in these few short minutes), “Tell me about you, my ‘respectable’ great explorer sister... Have you been wandering the frontiers of the civilized world again? How goes the search for signs of our world coming to an end?”
“I can hear your teasing, Brother,” Lucretia said expressionlessly. “You’ve always been dismissive of my sense of urgency and never even really cared for the things I find at the border. However, I can understand that you like to focus on more practical things, so I’m even more grateful for the help you’ve given me. But don’t forget, our father... the warning he made back then.”
“Our world is just a pile of extinguishing embers...” Tyrian leaned back in his chair and murmured as if sighing, “I still don’t know exactly what he saw that day, but it’s an obvious fact that he was crazy when he made that warning. What you’re doing now is no different from following in his path. Even if you try harder, the truth that you uncover will only drive you mad as it did to him.”
Tyrian shook his head and looked squarely at the figure in the crystal ball: “Lucretia, it’s bad enough to have one Vanished in this world. I do not wish to see a second.”