Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 181: Chapter 185 Each in Peace

The undead bird, formed of illusory flesh and crystalline bones, let out a sharp, ear-piercing and strange female voice, surrounded by the rising, burning green flames—and sentences that no one could understand.

Sherry’s already muddled consciousness suddenly snapped to alertness as she gaped at the bizarre bird that had burst in. She watched it circle again in the air while the figures of the Doomsday Preachers around her froze into odd stances, as if… “theatergoers” in a “cinema” had suddenly stopped moving because of a jammed reel.

One of these monsters had been mid-step when frozen, leaving his body nearly floating in mid-air, appearing eerie, horrifying, yet somewhat amusing.

The undead bird circled once more, and this time, doors and whirlpools of green flame opened in the air. Soon after, a tall figure stepped out and came before Sherry.

“I remember reminding you that you could ask for help when you encounter difficulties,” Duncan said, looking down silently at the girl lying on the ground, covered in blood, “Why didn’t you seek me out?”

“I… I forgot,” Sherry blinked, quickly realizing that the contamination and curses from the Doomsday Preachers began to recede rapidly at Duncan’s arrival, and as the piercing noise and chaotic thoughts in her head subsided, her mind gradually cleared, revealing a face twisted with confusion and bemusement, “My mind was messy just now… Yes, these guys kept yelling non-stop, making my head pound…”

Duncan slowly turned his head to glance at the assailants frozen mid-air by Ai Yi’s high ping strike.

It was his first encounter with these strange… creations. They resembled people clothed in tattered garments, yet their bodies were so mutated they barely looked human. Their limbs were twisted, bone spikes protruding from every joint, faces contorted with both fanaticism and an almost comical ugliness—slightly uglier than the Meteor Dog.

Duncan frowned and turned back to Sherry, “Did they beat you? Where did they come from?”

“They were the ones who beat me up!” Sherry immediately said aloud; as she did, she felt something was off, but quickly brushed aside that odd sensation, “I have no idea where these guys came from. The dog said they are Doomsday Preachers, followers of those crazies in Subspace…”

“Doomsday Preachers… following those from Subspace?!” Duncan was initially indifferent, but his expression changed slightly after hearing the latter half of Sherry’s words, then he seemed to recall something and quickly turned to Ai Yi, “Don’t release them yet!”

As he spoke, the frozen figures of the Doomsday Preachers showed signs of flickering out of existence, but Ai Yi quickly flapped its wings and the three assailants about to be isolated from reality were suddenly pulled back to the physical dimension, with Ai Yi’s sharp cry echoing in the room: “Connection established, connection established!”

“Take them aboard the ship,” Duncan nodded to the pigeon spirit, “I’ll receive them on the deck over there.”

“Mission will be accomplished! Mission will be accomplished!”

After two loud cries, Ai Yi rapidly carved a fiery vortex in the air, and the figures of the three Doomsday Preachers disappeared in the blink of an eye amidst the rising flames of the Spiritual Body.

In the dimly lit room, only Duncan, the Meteor Dog, and Sherry remained, along with the three bodies of the Doomsday Preachers crushed into pancakes by the Meteor Dog nearby.

Sherry stared blankly at the unfolding events, baffled at how the Subspace Believers, who nearly ended her and the dog’s lives, disappeared from the room in the blink of an eye—this “battle” ended so bizarrely and effortlessly, it could hardly be considered a battle at all. @@novelbin@@

Mr. Duncan hadn’t even lifted a finger. From start to end, he hadn’t paid any attention to the Doomsday Preachers’ tactics or special curses; he just appeared, seemed a tad curious about those guys, and nonchalantly abducted them as if picking stones from the roadside.

He probably didn’t even realize that the Heretics had any “combat ability.”

Just then, Duncan’s voice suddenly broke through Sherry’s random musings, “How are your injuries?”

Sherry snapped out of her thoughts about how scary Mr. Duncan was and, out of habit, wanted to show off her resilience, pretending to be indifferent to her injuries. But as soon as she attempted to speak, she grimaced and yelped in pain, feeling heart-wrenching agony in her back and arms that elicited an involuntary curse, “Damn it, it hurts like hell…”

Duncan looked at her with concern, “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“Absolutely not!” Sherry snapped back to reality, grimacing as she tried to push herself up, “I don’t have money…”

Duncan looked stunned, “Is this about money? You’re in this state!”

“I wasn’t finished,” Sherry finally sat up, “My physique is unusual; going to the hospital would definitely raise suspicions. If the church notices, I can’t explain it away. And look—”

As she spoke, she lifted her arm to show Duncan her wound.

The wound was healing—now that the Doomsday Preachers’ curse and contamination receded, her self-healing ability had restored. The gruesome tear had stopped bleeding, the polluting matter pushed out by the squirming flesh, and the new tissue’s growth was visibly swift.

Even the deepest wound on her back was progressively healing. It still hurt, but Sherry knew she would live.

“Just as long as those Doomsday Preachers don’t keep nagging, I’m not afraid of them,” Sherry declared hardheadedly, tilting her head back, “Normally a wound like this wouldn’t have me lying on the ground… ow, it hurts…”

A faint crackling sound suddenly came from not far away, interrupting Sherry’s muttering.

She and Duncan both looked towards the source of the sound, only to see that it came from the body of a dead Doomsday Preacher. Somehow, the deformed and mutated body had turned into lumps of grey-white, like weathered rock, and started to crumble, flaking off piece by piece. The residue peeled off, turning to dust before it even hit the ground, swiftly disappearing.

As the Preacher’s corpses continued to erode away, the room shrouded in veils changed as well—the shadows lurking outside the window began to retreat rapidly. The light from the streetlamps, reaching from the direction of the road, returned to normal, and the unnatural shadows and pervasive cold malice in the room also dissipated along with them.

“…The Doomsday Preachers offered themselves up to the Subspace, now it’s time to pay the price,” Meteor Dog’s muffled voice rose, answering Duncan’s confusion, “This scum will be devoured by the Subspace, leaving not even a speck of dust in the real world.”

“…Well, these Heretics die rather eco-friendly deaths,” Duncan mused, “sure saves the hassle of cleaning up the scene.”

Then he turned to Sherry, “Feeling any better? If you are, then come with me.”

As he spoke, a cluster of faint green flames appeared in the air, and Ai Yi flew out from among them, circled once, and then landed on his shoulder.

“Go with you?” Sherry was taken aback, “To where…”

“You’re not planning to spend the night here today, are you?” Duncan gestured towards the mess in the room, “Does this place look livable to you?”

Sherry slowly got up, leaning against the wall, her eyes sweeping over the old house that she and Meteor Dog had relied on each other for many years.

Everywhere was the wreckage of smashed furniture, everywhere were the remains of things corroded away, valuable or not, all destroyed cleanly.

Actually, there weren’t many possessions to begin with.

Sherry’s eyelids drooped, and for a moment, she remained silent.

“The patrolling Guardians don’t seem to have noticed the commotion here, we can still gather some belongings,” Duncan sighed, knowing Sherry’s state of mind but unable to offer any consolation, “But no matter what, this place is definitely not fit to live in anymore—not even considering the destroyed items, you have to consider the possibility of more attacks. Even though we don’t currently understand why the Doomsday Preachers targeted you, you’ve been marked by them…”

Duncan didn’t continue.

He knew that Sherry was a child far more mature than she appeared, having grown up in harsh conditions up until now, she should be aware of priorities.

“I’ll… gather some things,” Sherry said, her voice subdued.

“Need help?” Duncan asked.

“No need,” Sherry shook her head, “There’s… not much.”

Her belongings were indeed scarce.

Duncan only waited for a short while before Sherry had collected the things she wanted to take from various nooks and crannies, which were only some inconspicuous old objects, including an almost tattered old rag doll and a few articles of old clothing that hadn’t been destroyed, as well as two slightly misshapen little iron boxes that seemed to contain jingling trinkets.

She put all these things into an old small suitcase, then came up to Duncan with her head humbly low, “I’ve finished packing.”

Meteor Dog turned to glance at the small suitcase in Sherry’s hand and muttered gruffly, “You’re taking all this with you… So we’re not coming back?”

Sherry didn’t respond.

Duncan quietly looked at the girl in front of him, and a gentle smile slowly spread across his face.

He stepped forward and patted the girl’s hair.

“Let’s go, we’re heading home.”

The green flames soared, and the spectral bird spread its wings amidst the fire, blocking Sherry’s last glance back at the cottage.