Chapter 39: Chapter 39 The Captain Steps on Land
Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
The pigeon’s words were always amusing in both content and tone, silly and comical.
However, it now was an undead bird entirely engulfed in Spectral Flames, its translucent flesh revealing bones and tendons flowing with fire, its cries intermixed with crackling explosions, like the wails of wronged spirits leaking out when the gates of the Underworld swung open.
As it turned out, there wasn’t such a great distance between the sinister and the comical after all.
The Spiritual Fire that wrapped around Duncan continued to burn, and he watched as the three heretics vanished before his eyes, yet he couldn’t be sure of the principles behind this process.
All he knew was that this was Ai Yi’s ability.
A few seconds later, after confirming that the three heretics were truly gone, he slightly tilted his head and asked the pigeon on his shoulder, “… Where did you take them?”
Ai Yi flapped her wings and used her beak to preen her now translucent feathers, after a moment’s delay, she suddenly blurted out, “Returned to the shadows!”
Duncan frowned, having begun to learn how to understand the true meaning behind Ai Yi’s words, “… You mean, you exiled them to some kind of… parallel dimension? Or did you turn them into some kind of intangible state?”
The pigeon raised its head, its eyes flitting uncertainly as it looked at Duncan: “Coo coo!”
It had started pretending to be a real pigeon again.
But Duncan believed he had grasped the truth, he pressed his finger against Ai Yi’s head, then once more surveyed the dimly-lit “Shelter.”
In the flickering light of the oil lamp, everything in the small room was clear, the believers of the Sun God who had once hidden here had completely vanished from this world, leaving behind only a ghostly captain who had taken over the body of a heretic, and his pigeon.
Yet, Duncan had a feeling—as if he could sense that those three heretics were still here, right beside him, trapped within the room, caught in some dimension that could not be detected or touched by any means.
He could even “feel” the heretics’ futile screams and struggles, sensing their desire to reconnect with the real world, yet facing the despair of being forever blocked from reality by an invisible barrier.
This feeling spread invisibly until at one moment, Duncan saw the proof: in one of the swings of the lamp, through a perfectly-timed play of shadows, he suddenly saw a mark on the wall nearby that looked like it had been made by a vicious slash from a short sword—but when he looked again, the flame flickered, and the mark had disappeared without trace.
That was the last contact those three believers of the Sun had with the real world.
Duncan exhaled softly, and with the pigeon, he turned and left the room.
Outside the abandoned lounge was a corridor much narrower than the sewers Duncan had previously encountered, a deep, long corridor that stretched out on both sides, one end leading to a fork in the path, and the other connected to a slope ascending upwards.
Even in an abandoned area, the city’s caretakers seemingly maintained the most basic upkeep of these underground facilities—at least, the gas lamps along the corridor were still lit.
Duncan judged the direction of the corridor and, based on the fragmented memories in his mind, mapped out a route to the surface; soon, he stepped toward the sloping path that led upward.
He quickened his pace.
Fresh air began to emerge, a cool breeze blowing in Duncan’s face, and he heard vague, distant noises—these seemed to be the sounds of some factory machinery operating all night on the surface, along with fainter sounds of waves… the sounds of night waves lapping against coastal rocks.
Duncan nearly broke into a jog.
Ai Yi, the pigeon who had shed the Spectral Flames and returned to normal, flapped her wings happily on his shoulder, exclaiming, “The era is calling! The era is calling!”
Duncan suddenly stopped and stared into the eyes of the pigeon, “Don’t talk carelessly outside—normal pigeons don’t talk.”
Ai Yi thought for a moment, then flapped his wings vigorously, “Aye captain!”
Duncan was taken aback, as the pigeon had surprisingly responded correctly to him for once. He couldn’t tell if it was a coincidence or something else—but he quickly stopped pondering over it.
He had to prepare himself for this world.
The black robe on his body was definitely not something he could wear outside. In the memories “devoured” from another, such suspicious robes were only used at the secret ceremonies of the Sun God’s believers. On the city streets above ground, this attire was asking to be tied to a tree and beaten by seven or eight city guards.
In the Plunder City-State, a rather strict curfew was enforced. Wandering at night seemed to be a particularly dangerous affair, and ordinary people wanting to go out at night had to hold a pass and report in advance—the heretic he had possessed clearly lacked these legal proceedings, so to move around the city, he would have to avoid those who patrolled at night.
The people responsible for maintaining order in the city at night were called “Guardians,” and apparently, they were an armed force under the Deep Sea Church. In the muddled memories devoured into his mind, the owner of the body he now occupied deeply dreaded and was hostile toward those armed priests…
Duncan swiftly organized the memory fragments in his mind. Since they were inherited from a corpse, most of these fragments were chaotic and unclear. He was unable to piece together the complete trajectory of a “modern civilized society member,” nor could he compile complete information about the Plunder City-State. But even the most basic parts were enough to give him an approximate idea for his next steps.
First, he removed the black robe before the ramp leading to the surface—underneath was normal clothing that wouldn’t arouse suspicion on the streets.
He considered whether he should incinerate the black robe, but fire and smoke would likely draw the attention of the night patrols, so in the end, he just rolled up the black robe and hid it in a nook near the ramp.
The Sun Amulet was also something that could bring trouble, but it may also contain valuable information. After much hesitation, Duncan decided to take it with him—he could perform another test with the amulet when he returned to the Homeloss to see if Ai Yi could bring it back too.
He could study it safely on the Homeloss.
After making sure he covered any traces of hiding the black robe and dealing roughly with his appearance, he made himself look like an ordinary citizen rather than a heretic floundering in the sewers in a pitiful state of evasion. Once he finished all this, he stepped onto the ramp.
The journey ahead wasn’t too far.
Duncan hurried up the ramp, the increasingly fresh air filling his lungs. He could clearly hear the distant sounds of factories and the waves, and after a few minutes, he even saw a cool glow appearing on the steps not far ahead.
Moving forward a few more steps, the cool glow finally engulfed him completely.
He had arrived at the surface.
Solid, steady, the earth bathed in the pale light.
Duncan’s eyes widened; he saw a city, a city standing above the Endless Sea, a representation of human civilization—the great scar across the sky spanned above the city, illuminating the meticulously arranged rooftops, towers, and buildings further away. Not far in front of him was the slightly dilapidated edge of the city, and on the high ground further away, he could see many distant and magnificent buildings—the “Upper City District,” where the great cathedrals and city hall were located.
Duncan suddenly laughed, he didn’t make a sound but he was laughing so hard that he couldn’t catch his breath.
However, just moments later, he forcibly stopped his laughter, took a deep breath in the cold night wind, and then strode in a direction he remembered.
Heretics also had their “normal lives.” Apart from a few “priests” who solely wreak havoc on the people as their profession, the Sun Church and most other heretic organizations depended on a vast number of ordinary people to sustain their operations—these beguiled lower-level believers were mostly the impoverished citizens of the lower city strata, neglected elderly, naïve youths, or like the body Duncan now occupied…
An unnoticed, gravely ill, ordinary person, struggling with life and taxes in the Lower City District while running a deceitful antique shop.
The pathetic life of this antique shop owner named “Ron” was over. His debt to some evil deity was cleared with his last breath, but he had left a place in this world… a place that Duncan quite fancied.