Chapter 192 “The Promised Ark”
As always in the mapping room, sunlight from the Boundless Sea spills into the room through the portholes, reflecting the old objects that have experienced a century’s worth of ti as they sit here. Mr. Goathead was no different, sitting in the corner of the table and driving the Vanished towards a projected route with Pland as its final destination.
The door swung open then and Duncan’s figure appeared at the doorway, causing the wooden sculpture to imdiately creak its neck in that direction.
“Ah, it is Your Excellency, the Great Captain, who has co to his loyal first mate! Are you still doing well? You’ve been busy since yesterday. Are you in a good mood today? The weather…”
“Stop and stop. Similar greetings don’t have to be repeated several tis a day.” Duncan raised his hand to interrupt before the other party could finish speaking. Then his gaze seed to inadvertently linger on the face of Goathead for a mont.
The fella was, as always, expressionless, and the obsidian eyes were still strangely cold. However, they no longer gave the ghost captain the evil presence as it watched this side from the mapping table. In fact, the sculpture behaved well and gave him the impression of a hardworking sailor driving the ship.
“Your Excellency, Captain, you seem to be preoccupied?” The voice of Goathead sounded again with a familiar bootlicking enthusiasm, “You seem to have taken so captives and returned… But they don’t seem to be on the ship anymore?”
“They disappeared as soon as the sun rose,” Duncan said lightly as he plotted down behind the mapping table, “a few Enders.”
“Ah, the Ender Missionaries… Troubleso and dangerous fellows they are. Difficult to catch and always scurrying within the shadows.” Goathead imdiately started rambling after the topic got opened. This wooden sculpture had never been one to stay quiet for long despite Duncan’s vexation. “But how did they provoke you? Those crazy Enders don’t usually show up in the open. At least compared to the Suntists and Annihilators, they are low-key and rare…”
“They attacked a human I was keeping tabs on and captured them to test Alice’s ability,” Duncan said casually as he observed Goathead’s reaction. “They also said a lot of things related to subspace… How much do you know about these cultists?”
“If you may permit , Captain, but I advise against paying too much attention to their crazy ‘preaching’,” Mr. Goathead advises imdiately. “Just frequently calling out the na of subspace may attract dangerous attention, let alone dealing with the kind of madman who worships subspace. Of course, such a great being as yourself may not be affected, but it is still not a good thing regardless…”
Then it paused and spoke more cautiously: “I can tell you this though, I don’t know much about those madn, and not many people in this world know about them either. The Enders should be regarded as the most eccentric group among all cultists. They are good at being elusive, their thinking is fragnted, and they don’t have a large number of low-level rabbles like the Suntists – they are much fewer in numbers and no one can properly communicate with them…”
Mr. Goathead went on and on until the conversation started to get off-topic. Nevertheless, Duncan still got enough to pick up on the key details from the barrage.
According to Mr. Goathead, the number of Enders out there was far less than that of the other two big cult forces (i.e., the Suntists and Annihilators). And judging from the current records, their number may only be a thousand or even less.
There are a large number of ordinary people in the general cult forces as “bottom believers”. These rabbles have little power but everyday social life, except that their thinking has been corrupted. Bluntly said, they are basically no different from ordinary folks. On the contrary, the Enders do not have such a bottom structure – as long as they appear, they must be “priests” with great power.
No one knows how a cult group operated and survived to this day without the support of the bottom ranks, just as no one knows the specific conversion process of those Suntists and Annihilators among ordinary folks.
In addition, the Enders may have the word “missionaries” in their na, but by no ans do they spread their teachings. Sure, they like to chant about the “truth” of subspace and all that, it’s unheard of for anyone to be converted to beco an Ender. At least, not a case that’s been recorded.
In other words, it was theoretically impossible for Enders to increase their number by “preaching.”
Lastly, the Enders are extrely difficult to catch. In this regard, Duncan has already experienced it firsthand.
“A group of Enders who are so insane that they can’t ‘preach’…” Duncan muttered thoughtfully as he rubbed his chin, “where did the original Ender Missionaries co from then?”
“Who knows?” The neck of Mr. Goathead creaked and swayed, “Maybe they grew directly from subspace…”
Duncan didn’t mind the obvious joke there, nor did he want to ntion the alternate tiline theory. Right now, he’s wondering why no one has co up with this theory besides himself, or maybe, there has been people within the city-states. It would explain the weird coming and goings of those Enders.
“Captain, you seem to be very concerned about those Enders?” In the silence, the voice of Mr. Goathead suddenly broke the silence in the room, “It’s rare to see you showing such a serious expression…”
Duncan raised his head and glanced quietly at the wooden sculpture.
“You say, if the history of an entire city-state is polluted, can it still be saved?” He said suddenly with the frank and casual tone of soone discussing an academic subject.
The wooden sculpture was stunned for a mont (although it’s hard to tell with a face that’s expressionless), and it took two or three seconds before he responded: “Historical pollution? Oh, this is a high-end topic, it sounds like sothing that can only be done in subspace…”
“Can only be done in subspace?” Duncan raised his eyebrows, “Why do you say that?”
“Except for subspace, which is a dangerous thing that is chaotic in its own ti and space, what else can casually pollute the history of a city-state?” Goathead said casually, “There is nothing in the world that has such power… Oh wait, I can’t exactly say there’s nothing actually. If you consider the thing hanging in the sky, then that’s another…”
Duncan’s heart literally jolted at the new info.
The space-ti continuum of subspace itself is chaotic?
That’s the first ti I’ve heard of this! No book from Nina’s school ever ntioned such a fact!
Then a vivid picture once again popped up in his head, it’s the words the Frost Queen said to himself during that trip into the past – Please do not contaminate history.
He frowned and suppressed the complicated thoughts in his heart for the ti being. Then returning his gaze to the wooden sculpture, who also noticed the captain’s gaze, stopped yapping and reacted: “Ah, no wonder you suddenly paid attention to those Enders… Could it be that they…”
“They’re probably doing a big job,” Duncan said darkly, “and it’s making a little… annoyed.”
He looked quietly into the eyes of Goathead, and the wooden sculpture did the sa with that obsidian bead eyes. However, no information was gained by either partner through this visual contact.
“The city-state has its own protectors, and the Fla Bearers are constantly watching the context of history,” Mr. Goathead began, “anyways, those Enders can’t threaten you no matter how much commotion they raise. Even if they pollute history, they can’t pollute the Vanished or you…”
Duncan raised his eyebrows: “Can’t pollute the Vanished and ?”
“…… We returned from subspace, Captain,” said Goathead slowly, “everything in the world can be polluted except for subspace. We’ve…. been in subspace long enough.”
Duncan frowned harder, and for so reason, so crazy words that the Enders had said suddenly appeared in his mind.
After a mont of silence, he couldn’t help but mumble softly: “The promised ark…”
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