Chapter 460: Chapter 461: Convergence Chapter 460: Chapter 461: Convergence Deep underground, sealed off layer by layer, a covert facility leads directly to the ocean—a massive project unknown to all, a secret buried amidst countless truths and lies. Half a century of concealnt, once hopes and expectations, now prolonged into present fear and taboo.
All these now converged before Agatha, forged in cold tal, silently suspended within a skeletal crisscross of beams, as if the years had solidified and then begun to move once more—
A submarine device secretly built by the City-State authorities.
Agatha stood quietly in front of the substantial, silent machine, watching the heap of steel through the thick black straps, a speechless pressure seed to be dancing along the edge of her perception. After a long ti, she finally spoke to break the silence, her voice hoarse, “How did you discover it?”
“There was a good deal of luck involved,” Tyrion said. “I believe even among Governor Winston’s confidantes, only a handful knew of this, and most of them probably died in the last defense battle. But after taking over the administration of the town hall, I noticed so… unusual financial and personnel movents, and they all pointed to a ‘classified research project’ within this port.”
As he spoke, he turned his head to look at the colossal object suspended between the steel girders.
“There’s not much else to tell. Considering that South Harbor had completely fallen, we let loose and conducted a thorough search here—and then we found a suspicious warehouse, a suspicious vertical shaft, a suspicious underground facility, and a suspicious submarine device.”
Tyrion’s expression was light and breezy as he ntioned these, but even as a re bystander, Agatha couldn’t help but marvel at the skill of this “Iron Marshal”—he’d taken charge and understood everything about Frost so rapidly, it was not the kind of thing soone who had been away from the City-State for half a century could do.
Such a secretive facility could not be easily found with just a few clues.
He acted as if he had never even left Frost.
“Is this machine… operational now?” After a brief silence, Agatha couldn’t help but ask.
“It needs to be checked,” Tyrion shook his head. “Although the submarine was built based on blueprints left by the Frost Queen, it incorporates a lot of recent and even modern technology. Moreover, this facility contains many above-ground devices ant to support the submarine’s operation, such as air pumps, steel cables, and communication equipnt. We need to understand the status and function of these devices.
“The bad news is, those who knew the technical details are probably all gone—killed in the previous defense battle of Frost. When we discovered this underground facility, it was locked from the inside. It seems the people inside tried to lock the monsters in the isolation rooms, but unfortunately… they had no idea of the extent of the disaster.”
Tyrion said this and gently shook his head.
“But there’s good news,” he raised his hand and pointed around, “the submarine is intact, and everything in this hall, all of it, is undamaged.”
Agatha said nothing, simply raising her head silently and turning to look in the direction from which she had co.
The heavy and slightly twisted door stood still in her blurred vision, the bloodstains on it vaguely outlining the shape of palm prints. The vitality in the blood had faded, yet those outlines were still glowing faintly in her sight.
Tyrion’s voice ca from beside her, interrupting Agatha’s thoughts, “Next, I will try to find soone who knows about this secret project—perhaps not all the technical personnel were in this facility at the ti, but if we can’t find any surviving technicians, then we might have to let so old hands from the Mist Fleet give it a go.”
Agatha frowned in confusion, “The Mist Fleet?”
Tyrion’s face revealed a hint of a smile, “The ones who participated in the Abyssal Plan back in the day, they will be astonished when they see this submarine.”
Agatha fell silent.
A myriad of emotions surged within her; she didn’t know whether to lant the cycle of history or to be grateful that, sohow, everything was returning to its rightful place.
Tyrion beside her also fell silent, the Iron Marshal gradually dimming his smile, instead sweeping the hall with a solemn and silent gaze, his eyes eventually resting on the door leading to the elevator.
He nodded slightly, as if paying tribute to the unknown acts of folly and valor.
…
The sea breeze was gentle, the waves churned.
Propelled by the surging power of the steam core, the ship beneath Lawrence’s feet cut through the waves, the cold sea wind blowing against his face clearing the clutter in his mind. Lawrence stood on the high forecastle of the White Oak, wearing his captain’s coat that he had donned for many years, gazing at the distant sea.
Yet, the old captain’s heart was far from as tranquil as his outward deanor suggested.
A gentle feminine voice ca from the small mirror hanging on his chest, “Getting nervous?”
“The tension hasn’t eased since we left Frost,” Lawrence smacked his lips, “after all, we’re actually heading to ‘et’ with that ship—over the past hundred years, captains on the Endless Sea have only ever desperately fled from that ship, yet we’re moving towards it. The folks at the Explorers’ Association would surely think I’ve gone mad if they heard about this.”
“There aren’t many captains on the Endless Sea who aren’t mad—and you’re going to beco the most prominent legend among these mad captains,” Martha said with a hint of laughter in her voice. “Doesn’t that give you a little bit of motivation?”
Lawrence sighed, “Telling soone who’s about to be hanged that his noose is the prettiest of all the ropes—so pretty that you could even tie a bow on it—do you really think that’s going to be comforting?”
Martha’s reflection in the mirror was about to speak when a hoarse and grating voice suddenly ca from a nearby flagpole, “That’s fine by ! As long as the noose works, I don’t care if you tie into a bow!”
Lawrence’s mouth twitched, and he turned his head to look in the direction of the voice—atop the high flagpole of the ship, a noose hung down, and Anomaly 007 was dangling from that noose, swinging back and forth with the motion of the ship, looking sinister and strange.
“Aren’t you planning on coming down?” Lawrence said irritably to the hanging mummy on the flagpole, “you’ve been hanging there all day.”
“What if it suddenly works? I felt like I was getting a bit drowsy just now,” the mummy hanging from the flagpole on the noose babbled, “I’ll hang a bit longer—you agreed that I can choose my own place to sleep.”
“…I did agree that you could choose a place to rest where you wouldn’t disturb anyone else, but you never said you’d be hanging yourself from the flagpole,” Lawrence glared, “I suggest you give up; your sealing technique is clearly no longer effective—reporting to Holoss is your only option.”
The mummy hanging on the flagpole let out an exaggerated wail, but Lawrence had no patience to entertain him any further and looked down, speaking to the small mirror on his chest, “Do you think it will go smoothly?”
“Why are you asking ?”
“Your intuition has always been sharp—you’re the one who decided on the departure dates for every voyage.”
“…Do you really rember that…” Martha’s voice carried a note of surprise, followed by a light chuckle, “Don’t worry so much. Haven’t you already accepted your new identity as a mber of the Exiled Fleet? It’s not the first ti you’ve encountered that ship, anyway.”
“That may be true—but the nerves are real,” Lawrence sighed, and unconsciously straightened his collar, “Besides, my last encounter with that ship was definitely not a mory worth recalling. That scene is a nightmare for any captain.”
“Look on the bright side, at least this ti Holoss won’t be charging straight at you…”
A screeching, teeth-grinding noise abruptly interrupted Martha and the rest of her words.
The next second, Lawrence saw that around his ship, the Oakwood, layers of ghostly green flas erged out of nowhere, followed by a deafening roar of engines and a violent swaying caused by the sudden turn of the ship’s rudder!
In the blink of an eye, the previously calm sea transford dramatically, with the blue surface of the ocean suddenly riddled with innurable black, ink-like terrifying shadows, like strands of hair. The sunlight in the sky dimd and grew unreal as thick clouds and fog descended like collapsing curtains from the sky, staining the entire sea black with those “strands.”
The mummy hanging on the flagpole scread almost instantly.
And amid the mummy’s piercing screams and the sailors’ cries of alarm, Lawrence realized that Oakwood was being dragged into the Spirit Realm by so powerful force—with heart-stopping roars and sudden fierce waves, a towering, fla-engulfed ship silhouette burst through the dense fog ahead!
Holoss had appeared.
Like a towering, burning cliff, it lood over them, rolling in.
Anomaly 077’s screams nearly echoed across the whole ocean, “It’s coming, it’s coming! Dammit, it’s really charging at us again! I’m done! I want to go ho! Let down! I want to go ho! Ah—”
Then, the bow of Holoss stopped abruptly—in the midst of the “sailor’s” piercing scream, halting less than half a ter away from the Oakwood’s starboard bow, in an incredible manner.
Lawrence stood dumbfounded on the bow, taking a mont before his eyes made a full round, then he looked up, sowhat dazedly, at the Ghost Ship towering before him in the raging flas.
The horrific scene from his mory rged with reality, as he once again stood at this spot, once again witnessing this apocalyptic sight.
Holoss had co.
A tall figure appeared in his view—Duncan Ebnomal, the eternal master of Holoss, stood high on the ship’s side, looking down over here.
This was Lawrence’s second face-to-face encounter with this legendary being.
Then, he heard the other speak, the voice deep and resonant as thundering authority—
“Lawrence, what in the devil’s na is going on with your ship?”
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