Chapter 5: Chapter 5 Interwoven
The massive shadow bore down, and every person aboard the white oak ship witnessed a mont that would imprint itself in their mories for life.
It was a three-masted warship that appeared ancient and majestic—In an era when steamships were no longer a rarity, the sailing warship that materialized from the dense fog seed as old as if it had stepped right out of an oil painting from a century ago. Its masts towered high, its sides steep, the black wooden hull ablaze with ghostly green flas. The enormous sails billowed in the void, imprinted with the images of roaring phantoms and layers of fierce flas—such a scene, even upon the terrifying Endless Sea, only appeared in the scariest of mariti disaster legends.
“We’re going to collide!”
Cries ca from the crewn, known for their rough and hardy dispositions. Even they lost their composure in the face of such a colossal vessel. They shouted, ran about, so trying to find shelter on deck, others clung to anything that might secure them, and still others knelt amidst the pitching and rolling seas, praying with a sincerity never before mustered, invoking the nas of the Storm Goddess Gomona or The Master of Death, Bartok.
Aboard the Endless Sea, the blessings of the gods had already waned, but only these two deities continued to watch over all their children with equal regard.
But not all of the crew had lost their cool. The first officer imdiately looked to his most trusted captain, knowing that on the perilous Endless Sea, the experienced captain was always key to determining the fate of the entire ship. Lawrence had been at sea for over thirty years, and though this captain past fifty might no longer possess the strength of his youth, the experience he had accumulated on these waters might yet secure a slim chance of survival for all.
The vessel that had erged from the dense fog clearly was not a ship that sailed the realm of reality, but seed more like sothing from the Spirit Realm or “even deeper.” If it were so kind of Transcendent phenonon, then perhaps it could be countered with so form of Transcendent power.
Seasoned captains sailing on the Endless Sea had at least so experience with Transcendent phenona.
However, the first officer saw only fear and shock on the captain’s face.
The old captain stood motionless at the helm, as if utterly oblivious to the ship now completely enveloped in shadow. He stared fixedly at the looming ship ahead, his facial muscles as tense as if sculpted in stone. Eventually, a few words squeezed through his clenched teeth, colder than the wind above the Chill Sea, “…It’s the Holoss…”
“Captain?!” The first officer was startled by the na that floated to his ears. Like everyone who made a living on the Endless Sea, he had also heard this na from the mouths of sailors older, more seasoned, and more superstitious than himself. “What are you saying?! That…”
“The Holoss!!!”
Lawrence acted as if he hadn’t heard the first officer’s voice. He grasped the wheel of the white oak firmly as if to roar at sothing, his voice roaring hoarsely. And almost simultaneously as his words fell, the towering body of the Holoss finally touched the bow of the white oak.
Almost all the sailors scread.
Yet the ground-shaking impact they anticipated did not occur—the giant ship burning with green flas passed through like an elaborate phantom, its howling flas sweeping across the deck of the white oak, through the thick hull, the shadowy cabins, the dimly lit corridors, the dragon bones, and the pillars ablaze… The sailors’ eyes widened with terror as they watched themselves collide with the phantom of the Ghost Ship, and the green flas swept past like a fiery net beside them.
Lawrence watched the flas howl towards him, but before that, he first saw them pass over the first officer—The first officer’s body instantly transford into a spectral Spiritual Body in the ethereal fire, the bones within burning like kindling. He then saw the priest by the prayer altar, the flas on his body flickering, as if the deity behind him was still protecting him from being devoured by the Holoss with a fragile blessing.
The sa flas then enveloped Lawrence. He saw his own body undergo the sa transformation, and a strong sense of fatigue, submission, and fear filled him. His hidden Ocean Amulet began to take effect, maintaining his sanity with a sensation alternately burning and cooling. With the last of his sanity, he “passed through” the cabins and corridors of the Holoss.
He was t with the oppressive ship’s cabin, then it whooshed away, ancient wood pillars wrapped in decayed ropes and barnacles engulfed in green fire. He saw a vast cargo hold, silently filled with bizarre items that should have been buried deep at sea, and then a luxurious cabin with a wooden goat’s head placed on the center table.
The goat head turned, regarding Lawrence’s eyes with indifferent scrutiny.
Finally, Lawrence mustered all his strength to lift his head, and he saw the figure at the helm—the towering presence standing by the classic ship’s wheel, draped in a black seafarer’s uniform, exuded an awe-inspiring and terrifying authority like the master of nightmares, commanding all specter flas, and even the deep sea of the Spirit Realm seed to yield before his majestic aura, as it tore open a rift behind him.
Lawrence resignedly closed his eyes—he knew that he was now part of the Holoss, and the nightmarish captain required so sacrifices to satisfy his endless void and loneliness.
But the next second, he mustered the courage to open his eyes again, feeling as if all the bravery and madness of his life had converged into these few seconds. He recalled the knowledge he had obtained from books and legends, and calmly and sincerely watched the fearso captain standing atop the Holoss.
“You don’t have to take everyone—take , spare my crew,” he said.
However, the towering figure did not answer. He simply cast a cold gaze in Lawrence’s direction, his eyes seemingly tinged with a hint of curiosity—as if wondering why a re mortal captain dared to negotiate with him.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Lawrence let out a roar, “They all have families!!”
The figure standing on the Holoss finally reacted. He stared in Lawrence’s direction, as if saying sothing, but a loud whooshing noise arose, and amidst the sound, Lawrence only vaguely heard so movents, but couldn’t make out a single word.
The response from the Holoss was swept away in the roaring of the waves—
“What did you say?! The wind is too loud, I can’t hear!!”
The next second, a tumultuous noise rushed into Lawrence’s ears, mixed with the sound of the wind, the sea, and the shouts of sailors outside. From the corner of his eye, he saw green flas rapidly fading away, and the last remaining phantom of the Holoss vanished cleanly from the air like fog.
Lawrence took a deep breath and then noticed that his hands, which had been burned to a crisp by green flas, had sohow returned to their original state. Even the other people in the bridge had once again beco flesh and blood. The devout priest was gasping for breath next to the prayer stand, incessantly chanting the holy na of the Storm Goddess Gomona, while the ominous purple-black smoke from the incense burner gradually dispersed, with pure white smoke rising from the brass burner cover.
It took Lawrence a while to catch his breath, and then he looked around in bewildernt, as if unable to believe the nightmare was over, until the voice of the first mate ca from beside him, “Captain! The ship—the Holoss has left!”
Lawrence was a bit dazed, and it took him a few seconds to murmur to himself, “…he actually let us go?”
The first mate didn’t hear him clearly, “Captain? What did you say?”
“That Captain Duncan…” Lawrence muttered subconsciously, but then as if he had inadvertently ntioned a taboo word, he slapped himself before abruptly looking up at the first mate, “Roll call for the whole ship, now! See if anyone is missing from the ship!”
The first mate imdiately nodded and was about to leave when Lawrence abruptly called out to him again, “And see if there’s anyone extra on board!”
The first mate was taken aback, then realized the implication, a flash of surprise and fear in his eyes. He took a deep breath, whispered the na of the Storm Goddess, and then quickly ran out to the deck.
Aboard the White Oak, which was still sailing in Spirit Realm state, the assembly bell rang as ominously as a death knell.
(There should still be a post at noon~~)
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