Deep Sea Embers

Aiden jumped down from the high platform and came to his captain. After noticing that the captain's expression was extraordinarily solemn, his expression immediately became serious.

"Captain, what happened?"

"An invitation, I can't refuse," Tirian looked around, then sighed, "Tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, I may have to leave here."

Aiden's eyes widened suddenly: "Is there any news sent to the island? Just now? And... how can there be an invitation that you can't refuse on this cold sea?"

Tirian sighed again: "...it's my father."

Aiden blinked and held back for a long time: "... How long have you been away?"

"Should be back soon, maybe a day or two," Tirian didn't care about the subtle change in the first officer's tone. He was full of thoughts now, and he really didn't have the energy to say anything else. "There will be a messenger coming to the port area." , take me to the Lost Home, don’t announce this matter to the public for the time being, and you will take care of everything while I’m disappearing.”

Aiden immediately bowed his head and accepted the order: "Yes, Captain."

Then the first mate paused for two seconds, seemingly hesitant, before he couldn't help but look around, and approached Tirian and muttered to Tirian: "Is he... is he around here?"

Tirian thought for a while, then patted Aiden on the shoulder: "The Lost Land is hidden in the mist around us."

Visible to the naked eye, he saw the muscles on Aiden's body tense up a little bit.

"...Captain, I haven't breathed for so many years, I finally feel the meaning of 'cold' again today." The voice of the first mate Aiden was obviously cautious, "Are you sure that the old captain...he just wanted to meet you ?”

"I don't know, and I don't want to know, but my intuition tells me that this journey should be safe," Tirian said in a low voice. Only then did the sailors turn their heads to look at the first officer, "But other sailors may not think so, you know what I mean."

Listening to the captain's solemn words, Aiden nodded slowly.

He knew what his captain was worried about.

The sea fog fleet is huge, and except for a few ordinary people who are bought or hired by contracts as peripheral members, most of the members of this fleet are "undead" like myself, and these undead sailors are strictly In fact, it can be divided into two groups——

Most of them are members of the former Frost Navy. These soldiers who once served the Frost Queen were originally ordinary people. After the Frost Rebellion, these loyalists who still insisted on staying in the team were gradually transformed. Became what it is now.

In the endless battles for half a century, in constant battles with the rebels, death and the curse power of the Sea Mist itself turned them into today's "undead sailors" bit by bit, and became the Sea Mist Fleet a part of.

And another small group of sailors is the real "primitive backbone" of "Steel Vice Admiral" Tirian: they are members of the once-lost fleet.

Duncan Abu Normar is their "old captain". They have witnessed the transformation and fall of the Lost Homeland, and have personally experienced the ups and downs of this century. The world is turned upside down in the upheaval-these sailors who have been loyal for a century are called the "first period", and those who have been loyal for half a century are called the "second period".

Aiden himself, and the half-headed old Reverend "Will" were part of the "First Batch."

A century of experience has allowed Aiden to see many things hidden under the surface.

The Lost Country and "Captain Duncan" have different meanings in the eyes of the two groups of sailors. When the same news is put in front of them, the reactions it triggers are also complicated and uncontrollable.

And now even Captain Tirian himself is not sure what the real state of the Lost Homelander and the "Old Captain" is, let alone whether this state is really stable for a long time.

Therefore, until the situation is clear and the situation is guaranteed to be under control, the news that the captain is going to the Lost Country cannot be released—otherwise the island will definitely be in chaos.

At this moment, Tirian's voice came again, interrupting Aiden's thinking: "... Tomorrow morning, send the dancers back to Cold Harbor."

"Send it back tomorrow?" Aiden didn't know why the captain suddenly mentioned this, "Are you dissatisfied with them?"

"The Lost Homeland is nearby. It's better not to let ordinary people get close to this island," Tirian shook his head, making up an excuse. After all, the reason "my father was shocked" is too embarrassing to say. Then he paused, and added, "But your last sentence reminded me, just send it back, that mean 'Scimitar Martin' might be harsh on those girls... I will write a letter later , you give it to the dancer's foreman."

Aiden bowed his head immediately: "Yes, Captain."

"Well," Tirian nodded, and then seemed to think of something again, "By the way, when I came just now, I saw a dancer stopped and said something to you, seeing how helpless you are...she What did I tell you?"

Aiden was a little embarrassed for a while: "She said my hair style is very sexy..."

Tirian silently looked at the mate's shiny head.

"...The dancers in Lenggang are indeed enthusiastic and unrestrained--the personality is very enthusiastic, and the aesthetics are quite unrestrained."

...

Dark, lonely, cold, silent.

The endless barren wilderness stretches in the darkness. There is no vegetation or animals in the wilderness. You can only see jagged rocks and strange ruins that have been weathered and decayed for an unknown number of years. And the strange phantom light that flashes across the sky from time to time flutters in the darkness, occasionally illuminates the wilderness, and occasionally casts mottled and distorted shadows on the earth.

A hollow shadow trudges across the wilderness.

He didn't know how long he had been trekking, and he didn't know the name when he set off. He only remembered that he set off a long time ago, and the shallow impression left at that time told him that he should have reached the end long ago. You should rest in some peaceful place.

What delayed my trip? Let yourself only continue to trek in this wilderness?

This hazy and empty black figure was thinking, but soon this intermittent thinking was swallowed up by a bigger hole, so he could only continue walking forward according to his instinct.

But suddenly, he staggered.

I seem to trip over something? Or was it hit by something invisible?

The hollow black figure looked down at himself, and saw that some colors seemed to emerge from his hazy body.

He raised his head and continued walking forward.

More colors appeared on his body again, and more solid details also appeared on his originally misty and undulating body surface.

A suit of clothes appeared on this human-shaped black mist, which was the uniform of the navigator.

He gradually had a face, it was a black-haired middle-aged man.

His footsteps gradually became stable and light, and the rough gravel under his feet became much flatter at some point.

More and more memories began to surface in the depths of this soul.

First the name, then the dying moment, and then the sunny youth, the immature and vague memories of childhood, and the subtle and warm glimpses of the swaddling baby.

He trekked towards the end of the wilderness, and in the darkness, large and small shadows emerged from time to time, merging with him silently.

It seemed that the individuals that had been torn and separated from him were returning to their correct positions one by one now.

Suddenly, the figure stopped at the end of the road.

Christo Barberi raised his head in astonishment, and saw that he had walked onto an avenue at some point, with ancient stone pillars standing silently on both sides of the avenue, and at the end of the road, an extremely tall, magnificent and simple and complex pattern The door of the door is standing out of nowhere.

The door was open, but the interior was always hazy, and the details on the other side of the door could not be seen clearly.

There was only one strong urge to go through the door, to rest across the door from the heart of the soul.

The middle-aged man in the captain's uniform walked forward subconsciously. There was no one around him, but he seemed to feel that there were countless souls walking on this road at the same time, and they were also heading there. A gate—there are dead people on the road every second in the world, but in front of this lonely gate of life and death, the souls seem to be unable to meet each other.

However, just as he was about to touch the door, Christo stopped.

A tall figure suddenly appeared in front of the door, blocking his way.

It was a guard wrapped in bandages, wearing a gloomy and complicated robe, a hood on his head, and a long staff in his hand.

It's the gatekeeper here.

Christo looked at the almost three-meter-tall "giant" with some fear. The memories of his time as a living came flooding back, allowing him to regain the ability to talk to people: "Are you... the master of death?"

"No," the gatekeeper said, and a hoarse voice came from under the bandage, "I'm just his messenger."

Christo's tone was a bit sad: "I'm not qualified to step through this door, am I?"

He recalled more.

Include details of your own death.

However, the majestic gatekeeper just looked down at the soul at the door for a moment, then moved away slightly: "Please come in, your debt is cleared."