Deep Sea Embers

The captain often utters some strange words, the meaning of which is obscure, and the way of word formation is also unconstrained, but the crew on the Lost Country often take it easy.

After all, there was a pigeon on board who used even weirder and more incomprehensible words—and the communication between the captain and the pigeon had always been smooth, which meant that those weird words were not the captain's fault.

It is a problem that short-sighted mortals cannot understand.

Anyway, those who don't understand will be regarded as subspace dialects.

Morris didn't ask what "PTSD" meant, but silently digested the information the captain had just revealed, while Duncan didn't hide anything, and told about his experience in the cemetery last night.

He mainly wants to hear the opinion of "professionals".

Duncan's narration quickly attracted the attention of several people in the restaurant. Nina was the first to come over, followed by Shirley, Alice, and Agou. Holding back his curiosity, he quietly came to the long table and eavesdropped.

"The Cultists of Annihilation..." After listening to Duncan's story, the first one who frowned was indeed the most knowledgeable Morris, "Why are they interested in corpses..."

"Shouldn't Annihilation Cultists be interested in corpses?" Duncan asked curiously.

"They're not necromancers," Morris shook his head. "The Annihilation Cultists follow the Lord of the Deep, and they delve into the knowledge of the realm of demons and summoning. They have no interest in flesh and blood in the world—not only that they have no interest, It can even be said to be contemptuous and disgusting, because they firmly believe that the flesh and blood in the world are weak and dirty, and the deep demons and the deep gods are the "primary forms" with "pure sanctity". How can such a group of heretics Will you do something like go to the cemetery and steal the corpse?"

Listening to the old scholar's explanation, Duncan frowned subconsciously.

Annihilation believers despise flesh and blood in the world, and follow "existences with pure and holy nature in the deep realm"? They even think that Youyou Demon and Youyou Lord have this kind of "purity and sanctity"?

Although I knew from the very beginning that the cultists in this world were more evil than the other, but the enthusiasm of the Annihilation Cultists to challenge the limits of aesthetics was too evil!

Duncan couldn't help but look at Agou next to the table - this guy was dragged over by Shirley directly, and he was lying on the floor at this time, holding a new word book with his paws and looking at it quite seriously, the ugly skeleton Head dangling.

Noticing the captain's line of sight, Agou raised his head jerkily, and his hideous bones crackled together.

"Purity? Sanctity?" Duncan looked at the deep hound strangely, "Even the original form of life?"

Agou was stunned: "...ah? What?"

"It's unimaginable," Duncan shook his head, "The world in the eyes of those Annihilation Cultists is probably completely different from that of ordinary people."

He just said it casually, but Shirley next to her reacted immediately: "Who knows how their brains grow, I'm not an oblivion cultist."

"No one said you were." Duncan said lightly.

"Tsk tsk, anyway, I don't dare to say anything else, the female cultist who ran away must be dead at this time," Shirley smashed her mouth, and said, "It's definitely the kind of death without a whole body."

Duncan hadn't thought about what would happen to the cultist who ran away, but he couldn't help but startled when he heard Shirley's words: "Why do you say that?"

"She was dragged to the deep sea by her symbiotic demon," Shirley explained casually, "the Annihilation Cultists, tsk, no matter how much these idiots usually worship the Lord of the Deep, and no matter how much they tie the Dark Demon to themselves, they run away After reaching the true depths, she will still be regarded as a human being—those uncontrolled demons only recognize breath, and they will tear her alive."

"Will she be torn apart by other ghost demons?" Duncan muttered, and then he couldn't help but think of the previous events, "Wait, but I remember you and Agou used similar methods to run away in front of me. In front of you, you jumped into the crack leading to the deep realm."

Mentioning this great achievement back then, Shirley couldn't help but have a weird expression on her face, but soon she waved her hand: "That's different, Agou will always try to protect me when he takes me on a run, and he will find a way to confuse me." My breath really couldn't get through, so it fought with other deep demons—so every time it used this trick to escape, it would suffer injuries all over its body.

"Other deep demons are another matter—like the one you mentioned just now, it won't protect its master. Right, Gou?"

"That's the 'Death Bird'," Agou raised his head, and while responding to Shirley, he gave Duncan a cautious look. "Ordinary deep demons really don't take the initiative to protect their masters. They don't have a 'heart' at all, and annihilation The cultists act together only because they are restricted by the symbiotic contract, and once they run into the deep sea, they will immediately lose control, and the cultist is dead."

"So that's what happened," Duncan rubbed his chin and muttered thoughtfully, "No wonder that guy looked reluctant when he was dragged in..."

At this moment, Fan Na, who had been staying by the side without saying a word, finally couldn't bear it anymore, and she moved a little closer to the long table: "Those heretics... besides trying to take you out of the cemetery, Is there anything else to do?"

Duncan looked up at Fanna, who quickly added: "Probably because of professional habits, I am very concerned about the purpose of those heresies, just like what Mr. Morris said just now, normal Annihilation Cultists don't care about the flesh and blood of the world. Interested in the body, so those believers who appeared in the cemetery are even more suspicious."

"What you said reminded me," Duncan touched his chin, and said thoughtfully, "The body I occupied at that time had a very strange 'disintegration' phenomenon shortly after leaving the coffin. The skin and muscles disintegrated and fell off like dry and cracked soil, and those cultists seemed to have expected this..."

Fan Na frowned slightly. After thinking for a long time, she suddenly thought of something: "So, the key is the body you occupied at that time."

"you mean……"

"The Annihilation Cultists are not interested in flesh and blood in the world—but what if it's not a 'flesh and blood from the world'?" Vanna raised her head, looking seriously into Duncan's eyes, "Even, it might not be at all What 'flesh and blood'."

Listening to Fan Na's analysis, Duncan thought thoughtfully: "Oh...then this will be a bit of fun."

...

After a long absence, the Seamist finally returned to its home port.

On the edge of the secret island shrouded in ice floes, turbulent currents and fog, the steel battleship with a high bow is docking steadily at the end of the trestle. The undead sailors are busy in the cold wind and mist, some of them are checking the status of the ship, Another part is taking inventory of goods, or directing the cranes on the shore to lift heavy cargo boxes from the hold to the shore.

The Sea Mist returned from the warm central waters. Although it did not bring back any good news this time, it brought back gifts and specialties from afar—fine wine and souvenirs presented to the "Sea Mist Venture Capital Company" by the Purdue authorities, There are also tobacco, cloth, and handicrafts purchased by the captain. These things are good things for the cold and closed secret island.

Although the undead have left the world of the living, they still have independent personalities and emotions. They also need a certain quality of life, as well as entertainment and hobbies. In a certain way, they need these things more than living people.

Because their souls always feel cold and empty, they need the warm creations of civilization to fill those holes.

Standing on the edge of the deck, the first mate, Aiden, carefully stuffed the fine tobacco from Purland into an ancient short-stemmed pipe, lit it with a lighter, and took a deep puff comfortably with the cigarette holder in his mouth.

Then he held his breath and made an effort.

A dense cloud of smoke escaped from the collar, cuffs and chest pocket of his crew uniform, covering his entire upper body in a cloud of white smoke.

Aiden turned his neck, looked at the smoke surrounding him, and then pulled away his collar to take a look.

The bullet hole in his chest was still emitting green smoke.

"Warm tobacco fills a hole in the soul—but a physical hole is another story, right?"

A hoarse and deep voice suddenly came from behind. Aiden turned his head and saw an old man with pale skin and shriveled figure standing on the edge of the deck. The other body presents a wet texture as if soaked in sea water.

That's Seamist's chaplain, Will.

After the old pastor finished chanting, he picked up the small wine bottle and brought it to his mouth, and took a sip with his head raised.

Drips of wine dripped from the sides of his cheeks cracked by the hollow of his skull.

Aiden looked at the old pastor for a moment, and suddenly said: "Let me teach you a trick? You can drink this bottle of wine for several days..."

"The technique is not working," the old pastor shook his head, "The main reason is nausea, and pantothenic acid started on the third time."

Aiden shrugged, picked up the pipe and took another deep breath, then held his breath again, and his whole body was filled with smoke.

"Actually, there's nothing wrong with being undead. I can't play like this when I'm alive."

"...It's good to be kind." The old pastor couldn't help sighing.

(Thanks to the angry Bai Yinmeng, today is double update~)