Embers of the Deep Chapter 7: Puppet

The blazing green flas were gradually subsiding, and the surrounding sea was also beginning to calm down.

After confirming with Goat Head that "Holoss" had left the dangerous waters and could now navigate on its own, Duncan removed his hand from the dark, heavy steering wheel. He was now looking down, seeing his body restored to flesh and blood, and the deck of the "Holoss" returning to its original state after the green fire had extinguished.

But in the depths of his mind, he felt that many things had changed.

He could feel that the mont he took hold of the "Holoss" steering wheel, sothing had changed. The green flas had connected him to the ship, and even to the sea itself, and though the flas had now receded, he could still feel this invisible connection, sense every detail of the great ship beneath his feet.

Duncan slowly closed his eyes. He heard an indistinct murmuring echoing through the dim, deep corridors of the "Holoss," bringing with it an inexplicable sense of familiarity. He saw the lantern in the captain’s cabin had lit itself, its glass shade flickering with a pale light. He heard the sound of waves striking the hull, under which seed to hide a profound gaze. But when he tried to locate the source of that gaze, it seed to consciously hide its presence...

Duncan opened his eyes and exhaled gently. The spiritual sails on the "Holoss" masts fluttered as if they were made of mist. He walked toward the stairs leading to the deck, and the ropes beside the stairs squird to the sides.

He realized—that after he chose to take over the wheel, he truly beca the captain of the ship.

"Captain, we are surfacing from the edge of the Spirit Realm and will soon return to the real world," Goat Head’s voice ca from beside him, not through the communication copper tubes used on the ship but directly in Duncan’s mind. In discussing serious matters, it sounded much more solemn and less noisy, "We are lucky that in the deepest monts, we only ’shook’ at the bottom layer of the Spirit Realm, and we were hardly affected by the Mysterious Deep Sea."

The real world, the Spirit Realm waters, the Mysterious Deep Sea, and the even deeper Subspace... These strange phrases appeared one after another in Duncan’s mind. He knew these words pointed to the true nature of this weird world, but he still did not understand their true anings.

However, hearing Goat Head call him "Captain," Duncan felt a subtle change in its tone. He even suspected that now, even if he revealed himself as "Zhou Ming," Goat Head would still follow his command—this was the change wrought by his control of the wheel and successful recovery from the "green fire."

But after a mont of hesitation, he decided not to hastily make such attempts, nor did he ask Goat Head about the Spirit Realm, the Mysterious Deep Sea, or Subspace.

If it had been a few days ago, he would have been anxious and unsettled, desperately wanting to understand his situation, but now he no longer seed in a hurry.

This world had other "people," other ships, an orderly society, other civilizations... This was enough for him to have many hopes for the future, and even concoct so still quite vague "plans."

Lost in his sprawling thoughts, Duncan recalled the details of his encounter with that ship that had suddenly erged from the thick fog. He rembered the prominent smokestack of that ship and the chanical structures that had appeared directly in his mind as the "Holoss" passed by.

"That was a chanically powered ship... Yet ’Holoss’ looks like a sailing warship of a bygone era..." Duncan mused to himself, "But that wasn’t entirely a chanical ship either."

That ship had chambers whose purpose was unclear, arranged as if for so kind of ritual, and many strange patterns and symbols could be seen on the keel of the ship, like decorations, but surpassing the necessity of re decoration.

"Goat Head," Duncan suddenly spoke. Not knowing the actual na of the Goat Head, he instinctively used the na in his mind, "When we ’intersected’ with that ship just now, that man who seed like the captain was yelling sothing at . What did he say?"

Goat Head seed indifferent to the captain’s reference to it, readily accepted the address and promptly replied, "The storm was too intense, I couldn’t make it out."

"You didn’t hear it either?" Duncan frowned, "... I always felt his expression was heroic, as if he was prepared to die together with . Whatever he was shouting must have been sothing important."

"Wishing to die together with you is a normal human reaction, especially among seafarers, and is nothing surprising. Their shouts before tilting at windmills are not worth your concern..."

Zhou Ming’s reply seed only natural, yet Duncan, who was walking up the stairs to the deck, almost stumbled, twitching the corners of his mouth in astonishnt, "Thinking of dying with is a normal human reaction?"

He imdiately felt that sothing was inappropriate about his words, as if he were exposing a flaw in his identity as "captain," revealing a lack of understanding of his "own" condition, which might have been due to the excessive energy consud by the green fire just monts before, or perhaps the sensation of rging with the Holoss had diminished his alertness. Either way, it made Duncan instantly tense—but the man with the goat’s head seed not to notice at all.

"They fear you, which is normal," the goat-headed man replied with a tone that seed almost proud, "Anyone who sails the Endless Sea should fear you, just as they fear the ancient gods and the shadows of the Subspace. Speaking of shadows, you know there was once a distinguished engineer... or perhaps an agriculturalist or a gourt who once said..."

Duncan wisely did not pursue this topic, because he was worried that if the conversation dragged on, he would not be able to keep up with it (and more importantly, he really did not want to engage with the goat-headed man, as his chatter tended to increase exponentially whenever he had an audience). The next mont, however, his attention was diverted by another item on the deck.

"...What is this thing?" Duncan stood at the edge of the deck, staring in astonishnt at sothing near the captain’s cabin door.

It was a wooden box more than a man’s length, crafted with great care. Its dark, unidentified wood was tightly fitted together, reinforced with rivets of what seed like gold and adorned with intricately engraved patterns along its edges—like text, yet resembling deliberately distorted hieroglyphics. This box was certainly not from the Holoss! Duncan had not seen it when he left the captain’s cabin earlier!

The goat-headed man’s voice fell silent for a mont before resuming, "...Not sure, but it should be a trophy..."

"Trophy?!" Duncan was taken aback. He circled the box twice, "This thing looks like a coffin, but it’s far more exquisite than a regular one... Wait, trophy, do you an this thing was taken from that ship we just encountered?!"

"A successful hunt, captain," the goat-headed man spoke solemnly, his tone tinged with what seed like a complint, "Every voyage of yours always returns with full bounty. That is to be expected."

Duncan unconsciously opened his mouth, pondering that he had not intended to take anything from the other ship, wondering what sort of ’hunt’ and ’full bounty’ this was.

But on second thought, hesitant to contradict his own image as "captain," and more importantly, considering that the chanical ship had already vanished into the depths of the fog, and recalling the white-bearded captain staring at him with eyes full of rage as if ready to die with him, he guessed it was no longer possible to return the item. He swallowed his words and remained silent.

He stood before the ornate box, reminiscent of a coffin, and noticed that the lid seed loose, almost ready to be opened with a simple touch.

After a mont of hesitation, he placed his hand on the lid of the box—to at least understand what exactly his recent "Subspace sprint" had brought onto the ship.

His body was stronger than he had anticipated, and the lid was not as heavy as he had expected; with just a slight effort, the dark-seeming lid shifted, creating a gap, and he fully lifted it open.

Duncan looked inside the box, dumbfounded.

"A person?"

Inside the box lay a beautiful young woman—her silver-white hair spreading like liquid rcury within the confines of the box, her features delicate and flawless, exuding an almost noble and ethereal aura. She was dressed in an elegant purple-black court gown, her hands crossed in front of her, as if she were in a deep sleep.

Perfect as a human-like doll.

"No, this is actually a doll!"

Upon closer inspection, Duncan suddenly noticed the non-human joint structure of the figure.