Deep Sea Embers

Tirian stood on the towering bridge of the Seamist, staring at the vast sea in the distance through the wide window.

That used to be the direction of Dagger Island - but now there is only a wide open sea and a few scout boats still searching in vain for clues.

Dagger Island disappeared for so long, but neither the Frostmen nor the Mist Fleet could find anything in this sea area.

The big pirate sighed, turned around and left the bridge, and then walked into his captain's cabin—on the desk in the captain's cabin, there was an antique oval mirror, which was consistent with the overall design of the Seamist. Advanced style looks out of place.

Tirian came to this mirror, looked at his own reflection in the mirror, and seemed a little hesitant.

But soon, he put this hesitation aside, reached out from the drawer and took out the carved candlestick used for the ceremony, and put it in front of the mirror.

"The Seamist calls the Lost Home..." Tirian muttered softly. At this moment, he felt like those sailors who were bewitched by the vision of the boundless sea and fell into madness. The terrifying power in the depths of the darkness—and the truth seems to be not much different, what he wants to call is really the most frightening and terrifying power in this sea area.

It's just that the power happened to be his father.

The candlestick ignited spontaneously, and the bright flame danced above the candle, and the light and shadow were reflected in the mirror. Tirian looked at the small flame a little nervously, saw it jump a few times, and then quickly dyed a layer of dark green, You will know that your call has been successfully answered.

The surface of the elliptical mirror was quickly covered with flames, and the center of the mirror became as black as ink. Tirian's own figure disappeared in the mirror, and after a while, another figure emerged from it—that is what remained on the Lost Country. Duncan's body.

Duncan was holding a piece of bread in his hand. He raised his head and glanced at the mirror: "I'm about to have lunch—have you eaten?"

"Um... not yet." Tirian was stunned for a moment, and replied somewhat uncomfortable—for some reason, his father seemed to have quietly changed after he regained his humanity, and his way of greeting seemed so different, so The news was that this greeting was actually very cordial and friendly, but it had been so long since Tirian had spoken to his father so naturally, that he still felt awkward.

"You should eat lunch on time, it's good for your health," Duncan said casually, "what can you do with me?"

"We have searched the entire sea area around Dagger Island, but found nothing," Tirian calmed down and focused on the business, "The Frostmen are still searching, but I think they will be in vain. "

"The deep sea swallowed that island, the root of the problem lies underwater, and the search on the sea is meaningless—and the biggest problem now is that we don't have suitable diving equipment," Duncan shook his head, "In addition, the city is now I'm also getting nervous, the church will soon expand the scope of the search to the Second Waterway—don't worry, I've already sent a warning to your informants."

Tirian was subconsciously nervous when he heard that the church was going to search the second waterway, but he was relieved when he heard the second half of Duncan's words, and then he frowned: "They suspect that the heretic lair in the city is hidden in the second waterway. waterway?"

"After all, they have already turned over the entire city-state other than this one," Duncan raised his eyelids, "except for the second waterway, they have nothing to think about."

Tirian frowned and said nothing, and Duncan asked, "Why, what do you think?"

"...I don't think they can find clues in the Second Waterway," Tirian slowly shook his head, "Although my informants didn't control the entire Second Waterway, at least they were familiar with the situation down there and controlled If there are really a large number of Annihilation Cultists hiding there and holding large-scale ceremonies below... I should have heard the news."

"Maybe they hid it really well, or maybe the ritual they held has distorted the cognition of all the informants who noticed the movement—either they didn't find it, or they would be contaminated if they found it, which caused you not to receive the correct information. intelligence."

Tirian nodded slowly: "...This is indeed an explanation. After all, you have confirmed the phenomenon of cognitive pollution in the city-state."

"I will also pay attention to the second waterway," said Duncan in the mirror, "I am also very curious about where those Annihilation Cultists are hiding - if you find your people in trouble during this process, I will try my best to help. "

"Thank you very much." Tirian immediately bowed his head and said.

At this moment, a sudden knock on the door interrupted the conversation in the captain's room.

"Someone is looking for you," Duncan in the mirror noticed the movement here, "If there is nothing else, you can go and do your own thing."

"Okay, father."

The figure in the mirror faded away, the flames on the edge of the flame mirror dissipated, and the candlestick in front of the mirror gradually returned to its original shape.

Tirian breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the pressure gradually fade in his heart, then frowned, got up and opened the door: "What's going on?"

"A fast ship from Frost," said an undead sailor with a hole in his head standing outside the door, saluting. The light signal approached, like a group of... envoys."

"An envoy?" Tirian was taken aback in surprise, but soon, an expression of interest appeared on his face, "This is a bit interesting... They really can't sit still."

"Fire the cannon?" The sailor looked at his captain expectantly.

"Fuck off—let them come here," Tirian glared at the sailor, and then added, "Only three people are allowed to board the ship. If you can't accept it, go back where you came from."

On the mechanical speedboat flying the flag of the Frost City-State, a man in a decent dress and with gold-rimmed glasses stood on the bow deck. While nervously wiping his eyes, he raised his head and looked at the The ever-magnifying steel battleship in the field of vision.

The Sea Fog is getting closer and closer, its high bow is like a mountain peak floating on the sea of ​​ice, and the sense of oppression is getting stronger and stronger. On the surrounding sea surface, the finely broken ice floes are like some kind of living ice. Floating and cruising in the sea like an object, even consciously rotating around the hull of the mechanical speedboat, and constantly hitting the hull near the waterline.

The crackling sound of shards of ice actively hitting the hull was disturbing and nerve-wracking.

The confidential secretary couldn't help but wiped his eyes again, but the stories that were passed down in the Frost City-State involuntarily emerged in his heart - all the stories revolved around the curse on the open sea, the big pirate in the fog, the sleeping dream The sailor and a child who were frozen into ice sculptures unfolded.

"We are close enough," the confidential secretary put on the gold-rimmed glasses, took a breath, and said to the accompanying officer beside him, "Just stop at this distance—and go further, the battleship Time to fire."

"Minimum speed, turn the rudder to the left!" The accompanying officer turned his head and ordered loudly to the summoned sailor.

The speed of the mechanical clipper dropped all of a sudden, and it slightly adjusted the heading of the ship, making itself a little bit parallel to the huge steel battleship.

At the same time, the accompanying officer was paying attention to the movement on the Sea Mist.

He saw flashing lights suddenly appear on the battleship, and then another sailor appeared on the side of the ship, waving a flag towards the mechanical speedboat.

"They sent a signal," the confidential secretary hurriedly asked, "What do you mean?"

"The Sea Fog has accepted our request...Thank God, this time it is a signal that living people can understand," the accompanying officer was visibly relieved, and then he saw another small boat lowered from the side of the battleship, "And they lowered the transfer boat."

"Blessing of the god of death... I thought they would shoot directly." The confidential secretary was also obviously relieved, as the first "messenger" sent to negotiate with the sea fog fleet, even though he had prepared all the necessary information before coming. In order to be mentally prepared to be loyal to the city-state, at this time, there is still a feeling of rejoicing after the catastrophe.

The small boat sent from the Sea Mist soon came to the Frostman's mechanical speedboat, and there were several undead sailors wearing old navy uniforms on the small boat.

The conspicuous Queen's emblem on their arms and the uniforms representing the previous era are particularly eye-catching, and what is even more eye-catching than that attire is their honor as undead.

Two of them had big holes in their heads, and one had a pierced chest. Only one seemed to have no trauma—but it was swollen and terrifying like a corpse soaked in seawater for three days.

The Frost sailors on the mechanical clipper were a little nervous when they saw these undead sailors, and after watching them step on the Frost ship, many people showed complicated eyes.

But the undead people obviously didn't care about the attitude of these living people, they just went straight to the person who seemed to have the highest military rank on the scene.

"Who is the messenger?"

"It's me," the man wearing gold-rimmed glasses and wearing a short dress immediately took a step forward. He controlled the tension in his heart and controlled his eyes not to pay too much attention to the terrifying features of the undead sailors. Said in a calm tone, "My name is Eddie Ruhr, and I am here to talk to the Sea Mist Fleet on behalf of Frost City."

"A clerk?" The swollen undead sailor frowned, looked at the confidential secretary who claimed to be Eddie, and said in a teasing tone, "I thought you would send at least a few military representatives—the current Han Frost Navy can’t find a few soldiers who are brave enough?”

The accompanying officer immediately stepped forward, but before he could speak, Eddie held out his hand to stop him.

"I am an envoy," the civilian official wearing gold-rimmed glasses looked at the undead sailor in front of him and emphasized, "Take me to see General Tirian."