Chapter 382: Flames Suddenly Appear

Driven by an intense sense of urgency, Lawrence sprinted with all his might, unable to stop himself from stealing a quick, uneasy glance over his shoulder. The spot from where Martha’s voice had resonated moments before now only offered the haunting sight of the thick fog characteristic of Dagger Island.

The only thing that greeted his anxious gaze was the obstinate, unforgiving mist, an emblematic element of this ominous island. In addition, Martha’s voice still echoed in his mind, an unwavering reminder to hasten his retreat from the dreadful island, to seek refuge aboard the White Oak, and to steer the ship away from this daunting location towards the peaceful harbor of Frost.

Strangely, Martha herself was nowhere to be seen.

However, Lawrence perceived this absence not as an unfortunate event but as divine guidance. Whether his deep-rooted faith influenced this or was a product of his subconscious mind, he found himself interpreting even the slightest signs and instinctive nudges as directions, subtly suggesting a possible path towards escape from his dangerously precarious situation.

With his heart pounding in his chest and his muscles straining, he pushed his way towards the harbor. The harsh sting of the frigid wind and the relentless fog battered his face and roared in his ears. His first mate and the crew mustered their courage and rallied around him as the persistent boom of cannon fire echoed through the night, menacing and unceasing. This included the distant gunshots and the firing of the White Oak’s lightweight escort cannons. Yet, their efforts to fight back seemed pointless against the overwhelming power of the enemy. It was evident that the odds were significantly against them.

The warning about the arrival of the Seagull, which Martha had ominously given, clouded his thoughts. But amidst the ghostly figures shrouded in the fog, which one was the dreaded Seagull?

As he drew nearer to the harbor, a ship began to gradually take shape through the grim, grey curtain of fog, revealing the majestic hull of the White Oak. Still securely tied at the end of the pier, the ship’s silhouette came into view. The sporadic bursts of bright cannon fire continuously sliced through the fog, illuminating the ship’s fore and aft. At differing intervals, towering geysers of water erupted from the nearby sea – a chilling testament to the enemy’s relentless attack.

“The ship’s still there!” The first mate’s jubilant voice cut through the noise upon sighting the White Oak, his cheeriness inspiring the captain and providing a much-needed morale boost to the fatigued sailors to pick up their pace. “Jason didn’t abandon us!”

Jason, the second mate, was indeed still on board the ship.

“Blessed be the Storm Goddess Gomona! Quick, let’s get on the ship to escape this damned place!” a deckhand bellowed, frantically swinging his lantern to guide the search party, encouraging them to climb up the hanging rope ladder. “The White Oak is just sitting here like a sitting duck!”

Without further ado, the crew members who had previously been on land made a hasty dash towards the hanging rope ladder.

However, with a sudden air of authority, Lawrence stopped dead in his tracks, pulling out his revolver in one swift movement and firing a shot upwards into the dark night sky: “Everyone, HALT!”

The unexpected gunshot and their captain’s resounding command caught the sailors completely off guard. They stopped in their tracks, looking around with expressions of surprise and bewilderment. First Mate Gus halted too, his face reflecting a deep sense of confusion as he turned to regard the experienced captain. Yet, it took him no more than a split second to comprehend the reason behind the captain’s abrupt order to stop.

As he tried to catch his breath, the first mate took a moment to assess the situation, his gaze sweeping over the sailors and back towards the captain, all against the unnerving backdrop of the incessant cannon fire.

Sixteen sailors stood looking visibly puzzled and uncertain, their familiar faces mirroring their collective confusion.

“Can anyone remember how many were in our original party?” Lawrence’s voice cut through the confusion, his tone urgent, underlining the grave seriousness of the situation at hand.

“Including both of us, there should be...” The first mate responded hastily, pausing for a fraction of a second as he struggled to recall the exact number. However, within a few short seconds, he managed to retrieve the information from the recesses of his memory, “Exactly twelve sailors!”

Lawrence’s eyes squinted slightly as he surveyed the group standing before him, his mind racing as he counted each and every face.

Four humanoid “sailors” were now encircled by the crew, their expressions shifting from confusion to disorientation, and then to a stunned stupor.

The hastily constructed personas they had assumed seemed to be dissolving, failing to withstand the abrupt shock of discovery. These humanoid “impostors” swayed where they stood, casting glances up at their “captain.”

All Lawrence could manage was a sigh. “You’re not my crew.”

The next moment, to his utter astonishment, a flickering green light sparked into existence in the space before them.

Initially, the light was a mere handful of sparks, scattered and dancing amidst the twelve genuine sailors like errant streaks of electric energy. Then, in a blink of an eye, the sparks morphed into a raging inferno. This ghostly green fire roared amongst the crew, its predatory nature evident as it lunged towards the stupefied “impostors.”

The fire roared into life, enwrapping the four impostors who convulsed within its emerald clutches. However, before they could utter a scream, they were reduced to piles of black dust, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the dark sludge they had previously encountered on the port slope, only much drier and coarser.

The scene instilled terror in the sailors. The ignition of the spectral fire was a chilling reminder of the horrifying encounters they had faced as part of the White Oak’s crew. The spine-chilling ordeal with the Vanished in the Boundless Sea, the shocking sight of a city being devoured by flames in Pland... This fire was eerily familiar.

Why had this fire manifested here?

Could it be that “Captain Duncan” was close at hand?

Just as this harrowing conjecture sparked in the minds of the sailors, sending a wave of panic surging through them, the fire abruptly extinguished. As quickly as it had ignited and reduced the four impostors to dust, the spectral green flames vanished without a trace.

Left behind were a group of terror-stricken sailors, a first mate in a state of shock, and a captain who felt that he should have retired some time ago.

“What... what just happened?” First Mate Gus stammered out, gulping down his fear. “Captain, that fire, it looked like...”

“It resembled the force of the Vanished... the Vanished...” Lawrence echoed, his voice trailing off as he suddenly shifted his gaze towards the open sea as if expecting to spot a ghostly vessel. But the only ship in sight was the White Oak, still embroiled in a fierce onslaught. The sailors who had been waving their lanterns at the edge of the deck had disappeared, presumably drawn into the heart of the battle.

The crew aboard the White Oak were putting up a desperate fight, risking their lives in an attempt to buy their captain and his party the precious time they needed to board the ship.

The Vanished wasn’t present, yet the flames emblematic of Captain Duncan had inexplicably appeared before them.

“Stay calm,” Lawrence quickly advised, attempting to soothe his rattled sailors. “We’ve faced the Vanished before. And don’t forget, it was that very ship that saved the city-state of Pland – it’s not necessarily our enemy. Haven’t you heard the tales? They claim Captain Duncan Abnomar has regained his humanity...”

Almost instinctively, the first mate whispered a silent prayer to the Storm Goddess, then posed his question, “Captain, should we... should we board the ship now?”

“...Yes, swiftly! We must get aboard before any other unknown elements manage to infiltrate our group!” Lawrence commanded with determination.