Chapter 37: Chapter 37 Life and Death Cycle
Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
The evening bell and steam whistle, harbingers of day turning to night, echoed faintly through the deep, damp slopes and vertical shafts. Their reverberations within the dark and cramped sewers made the heretics hiding in the abandoned rest area grow even more disheartened.
One of them had contracted a severe illness, the cause of which was unknown, and now he was going to die—die in this dimly lit underworld.
“He’s still alive now…” a heretic hesitated as he spoke, glancing at his “brother” lying on the ground, seeing the other’s half-open eyes slowly rolling in their sockets. The unfortunate man could still hear the noises around him, but he no longer had the strength to fully open his eyes.
“But only for now,” another heretic, with a deep voice, said, “The evening bell has tolled, and he must not die in this room—the lord’s shelter will bless him to find peace in the darkness.”
The man on the floor twitched his fingers twice, clearly understanding his predicament. He did not want to die just yet, but death had tightly clamped onto his shadow, and from the looks of it, his dear “Sun brethren” were already considering moving this “risk” out of the shelter before true death descended upon him.
An extremely oppressive silence enveloped the room so that even the dying man’s faint breathing became audibly clear. After an unknown period of dead silence, the black-robed man who had previously cursed the Storm Church suddenly broke the quiet, “Wait a bit longer, at least… one doesn’t immediately turn upon drawing their last breath.”
“Fine, let’s wait a bit longer,” the deep-voiced black-robed heretic conceded, glancing at the man struggling to breathe, and couldn’t help but murmur, “But why did he suddenly fall ill like this? Are you sure this is just a normal illness?”
“I know him… He runs an antique shop that’s nearly closing down in the Lower City District, full of fakes,” a heretic who had been mostly silent spoke up, “He had been sickly to begin with, never really well; probably stayed too long in the sewers and was frightened before, which led to the exacerbation of his illness.”
Listening to the explanation from the person beside him, the deep-voiced black-robed heretic finally relaxed somewhat—though not a high-status “priest,” he had devoted himself to the Sun for many years and had become something of an “expert” with substantial knowledge of mysticism. He was well aware of the many long-term and hidden dangers that linger after a failed sacrifice ceremony, and every believer who had participated in that ceremony could potentially be a “carrier” of these hidden dangers. The man who had fallen into extreme weakness… could potentially be such a “carrier”.
If it weren’t for the principle of “all children of the Sun are siblings” and a few fellow believers who were looking on, unwilling to harden their hearts, he would have thrown this unlucky man into the vast darkness outside already.
After a long silence, the black-robed heretic made a move, pulling a pale gold amulet from his bosom and stuffing it into the chest of the barely-breathing “brother”.
“What are you doing…?” a heretic beside him asked curiously.
“This sacred amulet, I exchanged it from a messenger at a great cost,” he said, his voice low and sincere, “May the grace of the lord protect our brethren; the brilliance of the Sun could perhaps spare him from further corrosion in the darkness.”
The two heretics beside him immediately took his word for it, admiring the senior member of the church who had “given” the amulet. They clasped their hands into fists on their foreheads, devoutly and softly chanting, “All children of the Sun are siblings…”
The deep-voiced black-robed man also clasped his hand into a fist on his forehead, joining in the low chanting, “All children of the Sun are siblings.”
…
After the sun had completely sunk below the horizon, the starless, moonless sky once again appeared before Duncan, with pallid fissures stretching across the heavens, casting a cold glow over the Endless Sea and the Homeloss, which was sailing upon it.
Duncan stood near the aft deck, retracting his gaze from the sky and letting out a slight sigh.
No matter how many times he looked, he could never see the stars that simply weren’t there in that cold, pale light.
But, compared to the last time he had witnessed a starless night, his mood had improved considerably.
On one hand, he had accepted the various oddities of this world and was actively adapting to his current life; on the other, the fish today had indeed been quite good.
He was an optimistic person; any minor improvement in his life was a cause for joy—let alone the bounty from nature, which turned out to be more than he had anticipated.
At this rate, even if he couldn’t establish stable contact with the land in the short term, he could at least improve the living conditions on the ship.
Lost in his musings, he turned his head to look at the pigeon perched on his shoulder and said with a joking tone, “What do you say… wouldn’t it be simpler if I did something a pirate captain ought to do? Like, finding a busy sea lane to rob…”
The pigeon cocked its head, its eyes seemingly looking in different directions, “Does it sound right, does it sound right, does it sound right…”
“True, that’s not like me,” Duncan laughed, “Besides, it’s easier said than done—robbing requires finding a trade lane with merchant ship activity, after all.”
The vast sea was desolate; Duncan did not know how far the Homeloss had drifted from civilized society. Since the collision with the ship carrying unusual No. 099, he hadn’t seen another vessel in sight—it was as if he wanted to commit piracy but didn’t know where to find a victim.
Just then, however, a voice suddenly came from the side, interrupting Duncan’s reverie: “Captain, are we going to engage in piracy?”
Looking in the direction of the voice, Duncan saw Alice sitting on a tall plank nearby, looking over curiously.
Under the glow of the pale scar in the sky, the Gothic doll in a courtly gown sat high on the Ghost Ship, her silvery hair reflecting a cold shimmer in the night. She sat with grace, eyes filled with curiosity—the scene was like a classical and mysterious painting.
For a moment, Duncan was taken aback—after several episodes of “real-life chaos,” he had almost forgotten the elegant and mysterious impression that Miss Doll had initially given him whilst lying in the wooden box. Thus, seeing Alice in a state of tranquility, he was momentarily startled.
Alice, unaware of what the captain was thinking, simply repeated her question out of curiosity, “Captain, are we going to engage in piracy?”
This statement rather contradicted her image.
Duncan looked at the mannequin with a bemused smile, “Do you enjoy robbing others?”
“Not really,” Alice shook her head, “It sounds quite boring.”
“But you were ‘robbed’ by me onto the ship,” Duncan reminded her with a smile.
“…Oh, that’s right,” Alice thought about it, then nodded and asked another question, “So, are we going to commit robbery now?”
“No,” Duncan waved his hand and walked unhurriedly towards his captain’s quarters, “I also think robbery is quite boring—compared to that, a walk is more suitable as an after-dinner exercise.”
Upon returning to his captain’s cabin, Duncan briefly instructed the man with the goat’s head to take the helm, then he entered his bedroom just like the last time and closed the door.
He had decided that tonight he would undertake his second soul-walk in the Spirit Realm.
However, unlike the last time, this time he planned to test this ability through “Ai Yi,” the pigeon.
A cluster of faint green sparks jumped at Duncan’s fingertips, and in the instant the fire danced, the pigeon that had been strolling on the table blinked out of sight, only to coalesce on his shoulder again.
Feeling that faint connection between himself and Ai Yi, Duncan calmed his mind and then began to recall the “feeling” he had when he activated the brass Compass for the first time, attempting to communicate with Ai Yi through the Spiritual Body fire in his hand—
The invisible green flames turned into a thin thread, wrapping around Ai Yi’s wings. The next second, the white pigeon was suddenly enveloped in blazing flames!
In the midst of the fire, the pigeon’s feathers all took on an ethereal form, the rising green flames seemed to reshape its flesh and bones, Ai Yi spread its wings within the fire, and the brass Compass hanging on its chest “clicked” open—the dial, engraved with many mystical runes, twinkled faintly, and the needle at the center crazily spun before pointing straight ahead into the distance.
The scenery around crumbled away, and the familiar dark space appeared before Duncan’s eyes, followed by the familiar streams of light and countless little “lights” twinkling like stars.
Duncan followed his intuition as he gazed at the starlight, searching for the next suitable “target” to engage with.
Suddenly, he was drawn to a cluster of starlight.
He didn’t know if this was what the man with the goat’s head always referred to as “Captain Duncan’s intuition,” but he decided to follow this feeling—no matter who was behind that starlight, they were now destined to meet with Captain Duncan.
…
In the abandoned sewer at the edge of the Plunder City-State, the few Sun God Heretics who had escaped from the church guardians sat in silence without speaking.
The world above had sunk into the deep night, while the underground world was only sheltered by a faint light in the abandoned room.
Even the most brutal and inhuman Heretics felt tense and terrified in this encroaching darkness.
On a worn cloth bedding beside them, a dying man was about to take his last breath.
Listening to his increasingly low and difficult gasps, several pairs of eyes involuntarily turned toward the dying man.
They stared fixedly at the “comrade” lying on the ground, and everyone was very clear that he would not live through the night.
In the gaze of several pairs of eyes, the man on the cloth took one last heave with his chest—he breathed out his final breath in this life.
“May the Sun God shine upon your soul in the darkness,” a low-voiced Heretic in a black robe said slowly, and then waved his hand, “Take him…”
The next second, his words were suddenly choked back.
In front of him, the body that had been lying with closed eyes began to breathe again…
