In the midst of chaos, a monstrous skeleton spider produced a series of loud, discordant sounds, almost as if it were playing a jarring symphony filled with powerful ntal disturbance. It roared as if on the brink of madness, its fury almost tangible. Yet, this intense anger had no effect on the resurrected ship, which steadily continued its journey ho.
Despite substantial damage and disorientation, the ship was gaining speed and heading towards a specific destination. The “Saint” on board could feel unusual vibrations throughout its structure. He was certain he had destroyed the steam core, yet miraculously, the propellers were accelerating. Even with its navigation and linking devices out of action, the ship seed to instinctively find its way back ho.
Behind the skeleton spider, a strange thumping sound emanated from its grotesquely enlarged brain. Its blood vessels pulsed rapidly, and sothing bright seed to be forming inside, signaling a buildup of a potent and destructive aura of madness.
As the Annihilation Priest, the “Saint,” was about to use himself as a catalyst for a catastrophic self-destruction, he suddenly lost control over his body. A peculiar stiffness overtook him, making his limbs and eyestalks feel as if they had turned into stone or ceramic. Then, as if compelled by an overwhelming force, these rigid limbs were held firmly in place.
Fear crept into the depths of his mind. Struggling, the “Saint” managed to move one of his functioning eyestalks to look elsewhere.
There, amidst the flas, stood a striking doll-like figure with silver hair, dressed in an elegant deep purple court gown. She stood silently, her hand raised as if manipulating unseen strings. In that fateful mont, the “Saint” noticed nearly invisible, transparent threads wrapped around her fingers.
“Anomaly…099…” he said, his voice a mix of anger and fear.
“You need to calm down,” said Alice, the girl with the silver hair. She tilted her head slightly, observing the grotesque skeleton spider. “Your threads are all tangled. Let straighten them out for you.”
At her command, the skeleton spider’s body shuddered and then beca unconscious. Just before it completely transford into a ‘doll’, Alice released the invisible threads from her hands, rembering the captain’s orders to capture this creature alive.
Observing the scene, Duncan looked at Alice with a mix of surprise and curiosity. He then glanced at the now unconscious skeleton spider and asked, “It had threads too?”
“Yes,” Alice confird with a nod. “This one’s threads are more tangled than usual, but they can still be straightened out…”
Duncan frowned slightly, his face thoughtful.
Just then, a gust of wind swept through the engine room, carrying colorful paper scraps that swirled about ten ters from Duncan, forming the figure of Lucretia.
Lucretia’s gaze first landed on the motionless skeleton spider, then shifted to the surrounding wreckage – the obliterated steam core, the remains of the differential machine supports, and the myriad flas and debris frozen in ti.
Upon her arrival, Duncan nodded, “Everything here has been dealt with.”
Lucretia seed slightly bewildered as she took in the devastation. “I heard a massive explosion from below, saw huge flas and tal fragnts shooting from the stern…” She paused, trying to reconcile the scene before her with her expectations. “Did you manage to restore its power?”
“It will find its way back to its ho port, though it will take so ti,” Duncan replied, indicating the ruins with a hint of regret. “It’s unfortunate about the chanical machine. I had a keen interest in it, but now it’s in ruins…”
While speaking, he shook his head in disappointnt and gestured towards where the “Saint” lay.
“Bring it with us. This one is severely wounded. I need it to regain so stability – not a complete recovery, just enough to stabilize its ntal state and vital signs. It’s essential for opening the gateway to the abyssal deep sea.”
“Okay, Papa,” Lucretia quickly regained her focus and moved forward, wielding her “conductor’s baton.” She showed a faint expression of distaste as she gently prodded one of the skeleton spider’s limbs with the baton’s tip.
Suddenly, a shadow erupted from the baton as if sothing confined within it was being released. Duncan caught only a fleeting glimpse of its vague and nacing outline before it expanded into a large, abstract maw that engulfed the skeleton spider whole. The shadow struggled montarily to swallow its prey, then swiftly retracted back into the baton.
With a look of disdain, Lucretia stored the baton away.
“Your spells are incredibly useful,” Duncan noted, his expression subtly changing as he watched Lucretia’s actions with a tinge of sentintality. “The thod you employed to summon here this ti was also quite effective.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased,” Lucretia replied, her face lighting up with a smile. “Ever since you ntioned your avatars and the beacon rules for transferring between them, I’ve been thinking about it. I’m happy it proved useful.”
Duncan nodded slightly in acknowledgnt.
He had arrived on this vile ship in his authentic form. Initially, he had planned to send only a fraction of his power, but the circumstances on the ship demanded the presence of his full, formidable self. This decision, though necessary, was not without its challenges.
For such a “teleportation” to occur, a beacon was needed – a navigational aid for Ai. The usual thods involving mirror rituals were inadequate, and the bodies temporarily possessed were too fragile to endure the process. There were other potential beacons on the ship, but these were the innocent victims held captive by the cultists.
Normally, outside of the Vanished, the so-called “beacons” were indeed possessed bodies. Duncan, however, found the idea of using these innocent sacrifices as beacons to be morally reprehensible.
Thankfully, Lucretia’s creativity provided a solution. She had devised an “artificial beacon” robust enough to facilitate Duncan’s arrival. She first teleported to the ship using the cultists’ summoning ritual controlled by Rabbi, then utilized the power of this artificial beacon to bring Duncan’s true form there. This innovative “chain summoning” technique had proven to be impressively effective.
Duncan contemplated his hands, now linked to the artificial beacon Lucretia had engineered. This beacon, functioning flawlessly within him, was a testant to her skill.
“This beacon test went smoothly,” Duncan acknowledged, his gaze lifting to et Lucretia’s. “If it remains stable over ti, always carry one with you. That way, I can co to your aid imdiately if you’re in danger. It’s far more reliable than the mirror ritual.”
Lucretia, montarily caught off guard by his suggestion, eventually smiled gently. “Then I’ll send one to Big Brother later…”
“I already have an avatar with Frost,” Duncan interjected, watching her reaction. “He even visited in the graveyard this morning. He doesn’t need your ‘artificial beacon’.”
Lucretia’s expression faltered slightly at the ntion, “Oh…”
“Don’t always think about teasing your brother,” Duncan gently chided her.
“Okay~”
Duncan shook his head with a sense of resignation, changing the subject. “How are the ‘sacrifices’ on the ship?”
Lucretia swiftly shifted her deanor as the conversation turned serious. “I’ve located them with Rabbi’s help. The good news is that the area where they were held, in the lower front part of the ship, wasn’t affected by the engine room explosion. Thanks to your intervention, none of them died from the explosion or the fire. The bad news, however, is their condition is extrely dire. So were already dead in their cells when we arrived. The cultists, growing bored during the sea voyage, resorted to torturing them for entertainnt, even killing those who no longer held any ‘blood’ value just for fun…”
Lucretia paused for a mont, her eyes carefully studying Duncan’s visibly distressed expression.
“But rest assured, I’ll do everything within my abilities to heal the survivors, even those who are barely clinging to life. As for their ntal state, that’s a different challenge altogether. They’ll need extensive professional ntal health care.”
“Mmm,” Duncan gave a slight nod, his troubled look easing slightly with her assurance. After a brief mont of contemplation, he shifted the topic. “Have you managed to locate the ‘Dream Skull’?”
“We’re still on the hunt,” Lucretia replied. “It’s a prized yet hazardous ‘sealed object’, likely hidden in the most fortified and secretive section of the ship. I’ve dispatched my toy soldiers and shadow servants to scour every nook and cranny from top to bottom. We should have it located shortly.”
Alice, who had been quietly observing the conversation, voiced her concern, “Is there a chance it was destroyed in the explosion?”
Lucretia shook her head confidently. “That seems unlikely. The Dream Skull is an item known for its activation and corruption properties. It would be too risky to store it near the steam core as it could potentially compromise the machinery. Even those cultists would be aware of such a hazard.”
“Hmm…” Duncan pondered Lucretia’s explanation, his tone shifting to a more thoughtful one. “But what really perplexes is what we should do with it once we find it. I’m not certain how well it will coexist alongside the goat head.”
After considering for a brief mont, Lucretia replied, “First Mate Goathead is quite adaptable; I think they’ll manage fine.”
“Let’s deal with that when the ti cos,” Duncan said, sowhat dismissively, waving his hand. “First, I want to see the condition of these ‘sacrifices’.”
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