Chapter 773: Leaping Across the Boundary

Chapter 773: Leaping Across the Boundary

Duncan gently pushed the door to the captain’s cabin open and made his way inside, immediately drawing the gaze of Goathead, who rested atop the navigation table. Under the subdued lighting of the cabin, Goathead’s eyes followed him in silence, a stark contrast to the usual bustle of seafaring life.

With a nonchalant air and a wave of his hand, Duncan announced his return, “Duncan Abnomar— I’m back,” before peering out the window, curiosity lacing his tone, “Where are we now?”

Before entering the cabin, Duncan observed that their ship had successfully navigated through the ominous dark mist. Now, he noted, the fog blanketing the sea had transformed back to its mundane shade of grayish-white. The dense fog appeared almost serene under the light, rolling silently in the distance.

“We arrived at the boundary line of six nautical miles about fifteen minutes ago. The fleet is currently on standby, awaiting your orders,” the Goathead responded, its voice creaking as it moved its head to maintain its gaze on Duncan, “You... seem to have ventured far or been absent for quite some time. At first glance, I scarcely recognized you.”

Duncan listened to Goathead’s words, which carried a hint of unease, but he merely gestured dismissively with his hand. Rather than approaching the navigation table as he typically would, he pivoted slowly, his attention seemingly caught by something else. His eyes settled on an antique brass lantern that hung unassumingly on the wall beside him, its presence as ordinary as any other item in the room when unlit.

With a deliberate motion, he removed the lantern from its hook and scrutinized it closely, its antiquity evident in his careful handling.

“Do you intend to visit the lower deck?” inquired Goathead from behind him, a note of perplexity in its voice, “The lower deck is presently calm, requiring no intervention, and given our critical juncture...”

“No, I’m not headed to the lower deck,” Duncan cut in, bringing the lantern back to the navigation table and setting it down with a casual air, “What can you tell me about this lantern?”

Goathead seemed momentarily taken aback by the captain’s abrupt shift in focus, especially after his prolonged absence and sudden return. Nonetheless, it replied after a brief pause, its tone reflective, “In terms of its function, I believe I’ve already informed you. However, if you’re inquiring about its origins... then, I must admit, it was already here when I boarded.”

“This lantern was part of the Vanished from the beginning,” Duncan mused, a spark of realization igniting in his eyes. A question then dawned on him, one he had never thought to ask before, “Wait, how do you know about the lantern’s purpose then? Who explained its function to you? And what about the other items on this ship...”

“The ship itself imparted the knowledge to me,” Goathead began, pausing momentarily as it adopted a more solemn tone, “I am acquainted with the purpose of everything aboard this vessel. A significant portion of this understanding is derived from the ship’s own ‘memory,’ while the remainder comes from...”

It trailed off, allowing its gaze to drift towards Duncan, caught in a brief spell of hesitation.

“From a time long past, when ‘the captain’ was still capable of thought and sporadic communication.”

Duncan acknowledged this revelation with a nod, signaling he did not wish to delve deeper into the matter, and redirected his focus to the lantern in question.

Observing the captain’s intense scrutiny of the lantern, Goathead’s curiosity was piqued. It closely inspected the familiar object and noted Duncan’s grave demeanor, “Is there an issue with this lantern?”

“...It’s fine,” Duncan momentarily hesitated, aware that discussing the subjects related to “the other side” of the door in Goathead’s presence was imprudent. Thus, he opted for a more indirect inquiry, “I was just wondering whether this lantern serves any additional purposes beyond offering solace during inspections of the lower deck?”

“As far as I am aware... its sole function is as you described,” Goathead replied after a brief contemplation, earnestly providing its understanding, “It accompanies the captain through the shadowy recesses, remembered by the ship for this role... perhaps, you could seek insights from Miss Lucretia?”

Duncan considered this for a moment, when abruptly, a shadow began to swell in a nearby mirror, soon giving way to Agatha’s form materializing from within the darkness, “Captain, we’ve intercepted a signal from the direction of the lighthouse, inquiring if an incident has occurred.”

Adorned in a “naval uniform” that he had acquired from an unspecified source, the attire hung awkwardly on his emaciated, decayed form, a stark contrast to the remnants of his original, tattered clothing. The uniform, ill-fitting on his withered body, seemed an attempt to cloak the remnants of mortality.

“This was provided by the church...” Anomaly 077, catching Duncan’s eye, quickly gestured with his hand, “I thought it proper to dress more appropriately... a touch of formality never hurts.”

Duncan offered a nod of acknowledgment and casually inquired, “Are you prepared?”

“...To be honest, I’m feeling somewhat apprehensive,” Sailor admitted, his fingers instinctively adjusting a button on his uniform before he composed himself, striving to project a semblance of reliability, “But I am ready.”

Foregoing further conversation, Duncan lifted his gaze towards the Bright Star and silently communicated: “Lucy.”

“I’m here, Papa.”

“Sailor is set to take control. You’ll need to maintain close proximity to the Vanished,” Duncan instructed with gravity, “Moving forward, I’ll cease to restrain Anomaly 077’s influence and will instead amplify his presence. Should all proceed as planned, the Bright Star will be enveloped by his powers as well. We’ll navigate the ‘correct course’ towards the final abode of the Storm Goddess.”

Lucretia responded with a voice that conveyed both calm and resolution: “Understood, I’ll keep pace.”

With a nod and a deep inhalation, Duncan’s gaze shifted back to Anomaly 077, who had now taken position at the helm.

“...Helmsman, execute your duties.”

“Yes, Captain!”

The declaration came with a force and volume that belied Sailor’s typically raspy voice. Grasping the helm with both hands, he initiated the transition.

Almost immediately, a greenish light began to shimmer around the Vanished, gradually extending to encompass the Bright Star in its glow.

The sound of squeaking and creaking filled the air as if the very fabric of space was contorting. The visages of both ships took on an ethereal quality before adjusting their bearings and surging forward into the denser fog.

As they embarked on this boundary-crossing venture, Duncan was greeted by the sound of steam whistles.

Initially, it was the trio of church warships bidding farewell, followed by the signal from the border-standing church lighthouse, and finally, the resonant calls from the vessels of the Storm Church anchored near the lighthouse.

These steam whistles, echoing at the edge of the known world, heralded the Vanished and Bright Star as they accelerated once more, bidding adieu to the realm of the living and crossing into the unknown.