Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 381: Chapter 385: The Fight Ends Chapter 381: Chapter 385: The Fight Ends A shadow shrouded in darkness, a warship seemingly pieced together from smoke, dense fog, and various debris, was charging towards the approaching Sea Swallow with the White Oak.

It was different from what he remembered, but Lawrence recognized it immediately—even though it now appeared battered, twisted, and peculiar, it still stirred his memory, just as it had in every dream.

It was the Black Oak, there, just as it had been the last time they had set out together, sailing alongside the White Oak.

Suddenly, a loud blast of a steam whistle came, interrupting the old captain’s bafflement and reverie. The sound came from that phantom-like ship, as if to remind Lawrence that now was not the time to daydream.

Howling cannonballs fell from the sky, relentless barrages from the Sea Swallow, and Lawrence turned sharply to see a fireball striking the bow of the White Oak.

Flames leapt up there and were almost instantly assimilated and absorbed by the blazing green flames on the ship. Part of the bow was torn into fragments, the heated metal shattered and scattered—yet in the next second, those broken structures began to repair as if time were reversing, and restored to original condition amidst the rising green flames.

Lawrence felt something “slipping away,” as if strength and life were being cut from his “perception,” but the lost part was quickly replenished by the blazing Spectral Flames all around him. Soon after, the defensive cannons on the bow and side of the White Oak roared to life, unleashing cannonballs like vengeful spirits, which screamed chillingly as they flew out of the barrels, tracing eerie green streams of light through the air.

Almost at the same moment, the Black Oak also began its attack—amidst the booming of cannons, bursts of light erupted one after another from the rising black fog, launching shadowy, phantom-like cannonballs from the fog towards the distant enemy ship.

Lawrence gripped the wheel tightly, feeling the powerful tremors transmitted by the ship with each cannon roar. He sensed his perception spreading even further, along the flying cannonballs, along the surging seawater, permeating through the entire sea area. At the edge of his perception, the Sea Swallow resembled a bonfire in the night, emitting an intense and somewhat dazzling… presence.

Not long ago, that had been a hopeless opponent for the White Oak, but now Lawrence could only feel how deliciously… tasty that prey was.

Moments later, the retaliatory fire from the White Oak finally landed squarely on the Sea Swallow for the first time, accompanying a huge explosion and flames. The eerie warship seemed as if it had been fiercely gnawed by an invisible colossal mouth, consuming a chunk out of nowhere. In the massive eaten-away wound, the twisted interior structure of the ship was glaringly visible.

The attack was effective, but it was far from enough.

“Full speed,” Lawrence, gripping the wheel, eyes fixed on the ever-approaching hostile ship, knew what needed to be done—or rather, what the White Oak needed at this moment. “We need replenishment.”

First Mate Gus’s voice rose on the bridge, “Yes, full speed!”

The steam core roared further as the White Oak, already at high speed, pushed its speed to the limit, pouncing towards the far Sea Swallow like a swift falcon—Black Oak, like a reflection, escorted on the side, maintaining the same speed and direction.

And the distant Sea Swallow showed no signs of changing course or slowing down to evade. The warship, which had launched a blind fierce attack the moment it appeared, resembled a mindless, out-of-control beast. Even after the White Oak underwent its massive transformation and its battle situation turned unfavorable, it faithfully executed its original objective: to attack the enemy.

The two ships, one enveloped in ghostly green flames, and the other covered with twisted, dark eerie structures were charging full speed at each other—the shrieking and terrifying steam whistle almost tore the sky, their increasingly intense cannon fire shaking the entire sea as the distance between them closed, the cannonballs tearing into each other’s hulls, resulting in huge explosions that tore the ships apart, the burning hot debris scattered into the sea and sky!

On the bridge of the White Oak, Lawrence simply stared ahead, everyone fixated in the same direction, the minds of all sailors seemingly gripped tightly by something. Everyone aboard the ship had suddenly lost all fear, all hesitation, left only with a frenzied anticipation of the collision that was imminent and bound to happen—then, the two ships eventually collided.

Like a loose snowball forcefully pressed against the hot outer wall of a furnace, the bow of the Sea Swallow plunged straight into the raging Spectral Flames surrounding the White Oak. Accompanied by a piercing noise and a sound like millions crying out together, the seemingly sturdy steel hull melted inch by inch in the green flames. As the “collision” persisted, the Sea Swallow began to disappear from front to end into that wall of fire, appearing… as if it was being completely devoured.

And not until the last turret at the stern of the Sea Swallow was thoroughly consumed by the Spectral Flames did the fierce exchange of fire between the two ships cease for a moment.

Then, it all finally ended.

The defensive cannons of the White Oak finally ceased their roaring. After the enemy had vanished, the rumbling of the steam core gradually subsided, and the Spectral Flames that had been rising everywhere slowly retracted, shifting from an aggressive stance to a gentle burn, quietly blazing along the hull.

Lawrence was momentarily bewildered, his hands having left the wheel without him realizing. He raised his head and looked around the bridge.

One by one, the sailors turned their heads to stare at him. Each displayed a ghost-like demeanor due to the possession of the Spiritual Body, and their vacant eyes seemed devoid of human reason and humanity.

Lawrence blinked, but just as his mind was about to be completely overwhelmed, he caught a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of his eye.

It was a young man who appeared out of thin air, stepping through the rising Spectral Flames around him. Dressed in the deep blue robes of a priest from the Deep Sea Church, the holy emblem on his chest radiated intense light, resembling a burning flame. He strode forward and grabbed the emblem, pressing it firmly against Lawrence’s chest.

A burning heat spread from his chest, and Lawrence felt his faltering mind suddenly stabilize, as humanity and reason returned to his spirit simultaneously.

As the captain regained his consciousness, the sailors on the ship also began to awaken. People looked at each other as if only now did they recall the climax of the recent battle, the collision between the Homeloss and the Sea Swallow. Some cried out in residual fear, others checked their bodies subconsciously, and more eyes settled on the young priest who had appeared on the bridge.

Lawrence frowned and after a long while hesitantly spoke, “Priest… Jansen?”

“It’s me, thank God you can finally see me,” the young ship’s priest gasped heavily, as if he had just climbed out of the sea, his robes completely drenched. Water streamed down his hair and neck as he spoke, “Thanks to the protection of the Storm Overlord—I’ve been yelling at you for days.”

However, Lawrence still felt his mind somewhat unclear. It took him several seconds to gradually recall another inconsistency from the past few days—
There was supposed to be a ship’s priest, just like there should be a sun in the sky. However, during this recent period, he had not seen this young priest at all.

Priest Jansen had disappeared from everyone’s sight, even from their memories—to the extent that people had even forgotten that “there should be a ship’s priest.”

Lawrence had noticed the odd disappearance of the sun and only now realized that Priest Jansen had vanished as well.

“What happened?”

The old captain turned slowly and asked quietly.

“I don’t know. In the past few days, it seemed like you and I were split into two different dimensions,” the drenched young priest said with a rueful shake of his head, “I could see you all, but no one could see me. It was as if I had become an ‘outsider’ on the ship, until just now… the entire ship underwent a ‘transformation’ amidst the flames, and the barrier seemed to loosen. At the same time, I noticed something was wrong with your mental state, so I thought of using the holy emblem to stabilize your mind—fortunately, I made it in time…”

As Lawrence listened to the priest’s story, a jumble of thoughts and guesses crowded his mind. Only when he heard the words “something was wrong with your mental state” did a delayed fear finally arise within him.

He recalled the eerie condition of himself and the other crew members during the last few minutes of the battle with the Sea Swallow. It felt like cold sweat was about to break out on his back.

But he didn’t sweat—he was still enveloped in the Spectral Flame, his spectral body showing no sign of recovery.

Lawrence lowered his head, looking at his arm still in a ghostly spectral state, and had already formed several guesses.

“The ‘care’ from Homeloss…” the old captain murmured bitterly, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure whether to call it a blessing or a Curse. “Enduring Duncan Ebnomal’s scrutiny seems not to be a simple matter, but at least we survived… if this can really be called survival…”

As he spoke, he slowly raised his head again, his gaze passing through the nearby porthole to the sea beside them.

The ship shrouded in mist and shadows remained motionlessly there, like a shadow of the Homeloss.