The elderly father worried about his children’s daily lives and wanted to sneak a peek at his son’s activities at ho.
So, at thirty past twelve into the night, he saw his son set up a stage on an icy island base and watched over a dozen girls perform belly dances.
Talk about a shocking revelation and baptism into fatherhood.
At that mont, Tyrian flew into a dumbstruck panic. Truthfully, his current sense of horror and the chaotic thoughts racing through his head even surpassed the ti when he heard that a “Number Three Subrsible” had appeared near Frost a few days ago.
The infamous pirate captain in the Cold Sea awkwardly moved aside, attempting to use this clumsy thod to block Duncan’s view, but he saw another ice-covered wall light up beside him. The father’s figure walked directly to another mirror and continued to watch the stage, “Aren’t they cold?”
Tyrian instinctively replied, “…Cold, but they can endure it with a special alchemical potion…”
“Tyrian,” Duncan turned his gaze back and looked at Tyrian, who had beco as rigid as an ice sculpture, “Don’t be so tense, you’re already an adult, and it’s your right to have any hobbies. However… this hobby is sowhat surprising. Does your sister know?”
“It’s not what you think!” Tyrian couldn’t help but exclaim again—this ti, compared to his previous outburst, there was even more helplessness and despair, “Please don’t ntion it to her if you ever have the chance to contact her in the future…”
“Oh, it seems she doesn’t know,” Duncan nodded, “Indeed, it’s better not to inform Lucretia about this.”
Tyrian: “What do I have to say for you to…”
Duncan laughed.
He could clearly see Tyrian’s expression at that mont and had heard his previous outburst. He simply found it amusing—witnessing such a reaction from the top pirate in the Cold Sea was not an everyday occurrence, and it would be a sha to miss such a fantastic scene.
The instant Tyrian saw the smile on Duncan’s face, he understood.
He was first taken aback.
His father was joking with him, a sowhat cruel joke, but one that had been missing for a long ti.
Imdiately afterward, he controlled his astonished expression and swiftly turned serious as if his previous lapse in composure had never occurred.
“If you’re done having fun, let’s discuss business,” the formidable pirate sighed and said reluctantly, “I don’t believe your late-night visit is rely for joking with .”
“I ca across a ship,” Duncan’s expression also turned serious and he got straight to the point, “The Obsidian. Do you recall this na?”
“The Obsidian?” Tyrian frowned initially, searching his mory for well-known ships on various routes, finding nothing, but then his expression shifted slightly, “You an the Obsidian? I know only one Obsidian, but it should have sunk already…”
As Duncan anticipated.
No one would know the ship situation in this Cold Sea region better than a pirate leader who had been firmly established in the northern area for half a century. And if it were a ship that had sunk due to a mariti disaster, it would leave an even more profound impression on Tyrian’s mind.
Since shipwrecks resulting from mariti disasters are regarded as the most ominous events on the vast ocean. Captains may not pay attention to other vessels, but they will undoubtedly want to know the nas of those sunken ships, the cargo they carried, their actions, and their whereabouts.
“It’s that one, the sunken ship that’s been subrged for six years,” Duncan nodded. “It has resurfaced, entirely transford into a strange entity – with inverted cabin structures, mud-like living substances, and a ‘captain’ who is neither human nor inhuman.”
As Duncan finished speaking, Tyrian’s eyes gradually widened, and after a brief reflection, the renowned pirate’s face showed a mix of astonishnt and seriousness.
He did not doubt, for he knew his father would not deceive him at this ti, on this matter – he wouldn’t engage in such a trivial act.
However, he still found it hard to believe because the situation had entirely exceeded his expectations.
“Doesn’t it sound familiar?” Duncan’s voice continued to emanate from the ice as if carrying the chill of the Cold Sea. “It’s sowhat reminiscent of the Number Three Subrsible situation but more severe. It’s a replica that has returned from the deep sea, and what has been distorted is not only the crew inside but also the ship itself. You were involved in the Abyss Plan, so I want to hear your judgnt.”
“My judgnt…” Tyrian began but then realized sothing else. “Wait, where did you encounter that ship?!”
He suddenly reacted; the Obsidian had sunk near Frost, so theoretically, the “replica” should have surfaced around Frost too. How could his father have encountered that ship?!
Duncan, in the ice, revealed a faint smile.
“Are you at a high enough vantage point?”
“A high enough vantage point?” Tyrian looked around, sowhat puzzled. “The terrain here is not bad. The port area is generally elevated…”
“Is there anything obstructing the view to the southwest?”
“No.”
“Oh, look in that direction and wait a mont.”
Tyrian instinctively looked towards the island’s southwest – a gentle slope with terrain slightly inclined towards the sea. The main residential facilities of the port area were situated on this slope, which ended at the coast. A few kiloters beyond the coast lay the dense fog and turbulent currents enveloping this secret base.
Sothing flickered in the thick fog.
It was a ghostly green fla, rising and glowing like a specter in the fog.
Tyrian blinked.
After a while, he heard a distant, muffled, yet undeniably real roar.
It was the sound of an ancient muzzle-loading cannon being fired.
“You’re in the Cold Sea…” Tyrian felt his muscles tense, a subtle yet pervasive chill seeming to gradually encircle him. He hesitated and turned back to look at Duncan in the ice. “You… found this place?”
“Not easy to find. Your island is surrounded by thick fog, floating ice, and erratic currents. Luckily, the Spirit Realm is serene with secure routes,” Duncan smiled. “But don’t worry, I won’t bring the Vanished directly to your island; that would make your subordinates anxious. The Vanished will hide in the dense fog beside you.”
Tyrian thought for a mont and suddenly felt that his father’s last words were even more unnerving – it might be better to bring the Vanished directly to the harbor!
Yet, in the end, he didn’t dare say it out loud.
For he feared that the mont he opened his eyes the next day, he would see the Vanished’s flagpole looming over the harbor.
“Your expression is tense and disheartened,” Duncan’s voice suddenly erged. “Did I cause you any trouble?”
“No, I didn’t an that!” Tyrian quickly responded, trying to adjust his expression as he continued, “It’s just that things are a bit unexpected, and I’m still not used to…interacting with you.”
As he said this, he paused and hastily asked before Duncan could speak again, “Why did you suddenly co to the Cold Sea? It’s not just to give a ‘surprise’, is it?”
“So things happened,” Duncan nodded. “A person who should have been dead for years suddenly sent a ssage from Frost, which piqued my interest. Upon arriving here, I quickly saw the ‘Obsidian’, which confird my suspicions. Now I suspect that the lingering remnants of the Abyss Plan are stirring beneath Frost.”
The Abyss Plan…
Tyrian’s cheek muscles twitched uncontrollably as mories flooded his heart—so from half a century ago, so from recent events.
The sudden news from his father was like a sharp blade, slicing open the veil that had only been slightly lifted. Tyrian abruptly realized that what was happening was far more complex than he had imagined.
It wasn’t just a “Number Three Subrsible,” not just a Dagger Island, and beneath Frost’s deep sea…the Abyss Plan was not only reviving.
“I think your suspicions are correct,” he said, his expression troubled. “There truly is an issue beneath Frost. The Obsidian you encountered is not an isolated incident… Do you know? Just recently, Frost authorities salvaged sothing from the nearby sea area.”
The voice in the ice fell silent for a few seconds: “Judging by your expression, I think I can guess what it is.”
“Yes, the Number Three Subrsible, the eighth clone. It has now been sent to a desolate island near Frost called ‘Dagger Island.’ The authorities have designated it as a military-restricted area, attempting to uncover the secret of the clones,” Tyrian said, shaking his head. “But that’s not the only news. Recently, there have been rumors of the dead returning to life in Frost. It is said that the dead suddenly broke free from their graves, and even people who had died or disappeared for years suddenly appeared on the city streets. However, there are also conflicting reports that they are just ordinary city residents and that the overly anxious church guards are indiscriminately arresting passers-by during curfew hours.”
Tyrian shrugged.
“The information on Dagger Island is difficult to obtain due to the news blockade. As for the situation in Frost, I do have so informants. According to their reports, strange things have indeed been happening in the city recently, and unfamiliar faces have been coming and going. But as for the dead returning to life…I don’t think there’s much credibility to it.”
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