Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 228: Chapter 232: Tyrion’s Memories

After listening to Fenna’s account, Terrian fell into a short silence.

Without having seen it with his own eyes, he was still unable to deduce from these fragmented words what kind of plan that ghost who had returned from Subspace was currently pursuing, or how these transformations came about, but one thing was certain—the “Captain Duncan” described by Fenna was definitely not that frenzied monster the Sea Mist had encountered in the Chill Sea half a century ago.

Nor did he much resemble the great explorer father he remembered from a century ago.

“Captain Terrian,” after a long silence in the parlor, Fenna’s voice suddenly broke through, interrupting Terrian’s contemplation, “what is your opinion?”

“I… can’t believe this is really happening, but since it has, we can only temporarily accept this fact,” Terrian’s brow slowly furrowed as he pondered and spoke, “From your description, he does seem to be in a state of clear thinking, possessing reason and humanity, but his power… that Curse-like flame, has also correspondingly grown stronger.”

Fenna nodded: “I don’t know if that green flame is a Curse, but it is indeed very powerful.”

“That flame is related to Subspace,” Terrian said, “he acquired this eerie power after falling into Subspace, so it’s no problem to call it a Curse.”

“…So, the fact that the flame is stronger than the one you saw half a century ago suggests that Captain Duncan’s connection with Subspace is now deeper than before,” the elderly Bishop Valentin pondered, “which means he has not escaped the influence of Subspace, but rather is more deeply ensnared—yet correspondingly, he has somehow recovered in this process?”

“…This does not conform to our understanding of Subspace.” Terrian shook his head.

“The believers of Rahm often say a phrase,” Valentin said, “Our only understanding of Subspace is that we never understand it enough—over thousands of years, aside from the Homeloss, no one or thing from the reality dimension has been able to return to this world after entering Subspace, and apart from some indirect observational records and the fragmented words penned by mad scholars from the ancient Crithe Kingdom in their insanity, no one knows what exists within Subspace… Our ‘summaries of laws’ regarding that place are, in fact, meaningless.”

Speaking to this point, this learned old man paused, then sighed deeply: “Even, we cannot be sure whether Subspace is actually a ‘place’—

“A thousand six hundred years ago, the mad scholar Bayermin was devoured by an invisible entity in front of an audience, after reading an ancient scroll. Before he disappeared, he shouted ‘Subspace is the shadow on the backside of the world,’ his words drove one hundred and forty-two witnesses into madness, but with the madness of those one hundred and forty-two witnesses as a ‘sacrifice,’ this information became the greatest step we’ve taken in understanding Subspace for thousands of years.

“Scholars are still trying to construct a theoretical model of Subspace based on Bayermin’s dying exclamation… and your father, not only did he actually go to that place, but he has now returned to our world with clear understanding.”

“Yes, year after year of research, year after year of deaths, those who die are quickly replaced, continuing the research… So I do quite admire those reckless scholars from the Academy of Truth, completely in the positive sense,” Terrian lamented as he shook his head, his voice then taking on a slightly somber tone, “So now, my ‘father’ has perhaps become a valuable sample? Someone who really went to Subspace and can still communicate rationally?”

“That’s just wishful thinking,” Valentin spread his hands, “We can’t expect ‘Captain Duncan’ to comply with the research of mortals, moreover, although he possesses reason now, we cannot rashly assume his reason is biased toward humanity—if he’s a rational invader from Subspace, then that would be far more terrifying than those thoughtless projections of chaos.”

Terrian was silent for a moment, as if falling into deep recollection and contemplation, and after an unknown length of time, he suddenly spoke: “Before embarking on his last expedition, there was a period when he exhibited anxiety and unease… No, to be precise, from some indeterminate point on, he seemed to be perpetually anxious about something and was making many… chilling preparations because of it.”

Valentin and Fenna immediately exchanged glances, both their expressions turning serious at once.

This might be the first time in a century that someone had heard these crucial secrets from the descendant of Captain Duncan!

Fenna couldn’t help but ask, “What was he anxious about? And what was he preparing for?”

“The end of the world.” Terrian raised his head, stating calmly.

Valentin slightly furrowed his brow: “The end?”

“I know it sounds a bit cliché, like the ravings of Doomsday Preachers who pop up every year, but this really was the one thing the world’s greatest explorer was losing sleep over a hundred years ago.”

Terrian sighed softly and continued.

“From the day Lucrescia and I took over command of the Sea Mist and the Brilliant Starship, he would occasionally bring it up.

“He seemed to believe that our world has some sort of… countdown, or a sort of time limit; although the world seemed stable and peaceful on the surface, this countdown was actually nearing its end, and once the moment arrived, it would rapidly descend into collapse, termination, with no one able to reverse or stop the process—and he thought… this era was the final tick of that countdown.”

Valentin frowned: “Frankly, I don’t think our world can be considered ‘stable’…”

“But in my father’s mouth, he called the present world ‘the last bucolic era.'”

Fenna thought for a moment and asked, “So, did he fall into Subspace in his quest to halt this ‘countdown’?”

“No, he wanted to find the anomaly 000—he believed anomaly 000 could put an end to the world’s distortion, jam that countdown. For that purpose, he crossed the ‘Eternal Veil’ at the end of the world.”

Valentin was startled, “He crossed the Eternal Veil?!”

“Yes… but I can only confirm that he indeed entered that mist, not whether he truly ‘penetrated’ it,” Tyrian said, “He refused the escort of any guard ships. What I can be sure of is that he indeed returned from there alive—madness-stricken. As for falling into Subspace… that happened afterward.”

Valentin and Fenna fell silent together, and after a while, Fenna took the initiative to break the silence, “Did he find the so-called anomaly 000 then? You know, theoretically…”

“Theoretically, there’s no such thing as anomaly or phenomenon number zero, I know, and he indeed came back empty-handed,” Tyrian calmly said, “That’s why I’ve always thought that he might have already been not quite right when he decided to look for anomaly 000.”

Fenna pondered for a moment and asked, “Do you know why your father initially thought there was a ‘countdown’ in the world? When did he begin to have this perception? Was it induced by something, or… did he discover something?”

Tyrian recalled seriously for a moment, somewhat uncertainly, “I… am not sure, it’s been too long, but I vaguely remember that he had hosted a few people on Homeloss and talked with them through the night—the first time he mentioned to us the issue of the apocalypse was after that day.”

“Hosted a few people?” Valentin immediately became serious, “What kind of people were they? What was the situation at the time?”

“They were all wearing gray-white coarse cloaks, barefoot. In my memory… they were thin, the kind of thinness that seems to come from arduous ascetic practices, as if they had been through a very long journey. They appeared suddenly on the ship during Homeloss’s voyage, as if they had long prearranged to board the ship and visit my father,” Tyrian slowly said, “And after the overnight discussion, my father told us the guests had left, but I never saw them depart from the ship. Those people seemed to vanish into thin air.”

Valentin had a strange expression, “Doomsday Preachers? This sounds very much like…”

“Your Excellency, do you think having lived a hundred years, I wouldn’t recognize Doomsday Preachers?” Tyrian shook his head gently, “I had that suspicion, too, but those people were definitely not the Doomsday Preachers you and I know of—they were sane and friendly, and there wasn’t a trace of madness about them.”

“Sane and friendly?” Valentin blinked and said thoughtfully, “I’ve indeed never heard of any sane Doomsday Preachers… Did those people have any other characteristics?”

This time, Tyrian recalled even longer, and only after a good few minutes, did he suddenly lift his head, “One of them once spoke a few words to me. I can’t remember the exact content, just some very ordinary greetings, but I remember they referred to themselves as ‘humble seekers.’ And…”

Tyrian paused and looked around, “Do you have a pen?”

“Yes,” Fenna immediately took pen and paper from the side, “Here you go.”

Taking the pen and paper, Tyrian bent his head and drew a pattern on the coffee table, with Valentin and Fenna curiously leaning in.

They saw a hexagonal emblem with a fragmented, seemingly cross-like pattern at its center. As Tyrian drew the cross, there was a noticeable hesitation in his lines, as though the memory was hazy.

“The pattern was approximately like this—one of them wore a talisman like this around their neck. It seemed very important to him. He wouldn’t allow me to touch it, only saying it was a guide and protection on their path to seeking.”

Fenna frowned and studied the pattern for a long time, then turned back to Valentin, “You’ve seen more, do you recognize this?”

“…Never seen it before,” Valentin scrutinized it for a while, hesitatingly shook his head, “It doesn’t resemble any known religious symbol, nor does it look like anything used by the classical City-States.”

“Is that so…”

Fenna murmured softly, her gaze still fixed on the paper.

The odd pattern on the paper reflected in her eyes.

Additionally reflected in her eyes was a cluster of faint green sparks, virtually imperceptible to the naked eye.