Deep Sea Embers
chapter-733

Amidst a cacophony that split the air, Vanna’s massive alloy greatsword, reminiscent of a meteor crashing from the heavens, forcefully descended towards the ground. Although lacking a traditional sharp edge, the blade effortlessly sliced through a colossal demon, whose bulk and armor resembled a formidable battle tank, as if it were merely slicing through soft butter. The demon was cleanly cleaved, and in the wake of this feat, Vanna, with a resonant roar, slammed her fist onto the earth. The resulting shockwave was terrifying; weaker demons that had gathered around her were instantly obliterated, reduced to mere dust.

Suddenly, a shrill, unnatural scream pierced the air from behind her. Tainted with corrupt energy and flying in from a sly, unexpected angle, a missile targeted Vanna. She quickly rose to her feet, preparing to intercept the missile herself, but a rapid figure intervened before she could act. A large, two-handed greatsword, aglow with a silvery radiance, swiftly cut through the air, intercepting and neutralizing the deceitful attack. Following this, a group of sailors, armed with swords enhanced by magic, charged into the fray. They skillfully and thoroughly dispatched the demon responsible for the ambush.

Acknowledging the swift intervention, Vanna looked up at the female and offered a slight nod of appreciation, “Quick reaction.”

The face of Amber lit up with joy. She nodded energetically, her eyes betraying a mix of awe and envy as she gazed at Vanna, “You are really… even stronger than I imagined.”

With a nonchalant air, Vanna twirled her hefty alloy greatsword and plunged it into the surrounding mist, effortlessly impaling a dark hound that had emerged from the dense fog. With a casual flick of her wrist, the demon disintegrated into dust. “It’s a good day for me,” she remarked, “And these demons aren’t particularly challenging… they’re much weaker compared to the foes I’ve faced recently.”

Amber’s expression momentarily froze, a hint of something unspoken flitting across her face, but she quickly composed herself. She resumed her duties, directing the soldiers to clear out the lingering demons near the cave’s entrance and organizing the fighters to take turns resting and bolstering their defenses.

Meanwhile, Vanna once again hoisted her greatsword. However, in that moment, something caught her attention. Her eyes narrowed, focusing intently into the thick fog ahead.

For a brief second, she thought she spotted a figure – a mysterious stooped-over person clad in ragged robes, traversing the stony beach of the canyon.

This figure seemed to be in his own world, unaffected by the fierce battle raging nearby, indifferent to the presence of demons and church soldiers alike. He moved as if he were a ghost from a different realm, hastily making his way through the mist.

This eerie sighting was fleeting; the figure had disappeared the second when Vanna blinked.

Suddenly, from the dense fog, a monstrous demon composed of a tangled mass of bones, forming a grotesque sphere about three meters across, emerged. The chilling, hollow wails emanating from it compelled Vanna to momentarily push aside her suspicions and ready her sword to confront this new adversary.

….

Amidst a barrage of musket fire, the peculiar demons emerging from the ominous black doorway were swiftly shredded by the onslaught of bullets from the toy soldiers, not even having a chance to fully materialize. Following this, the colorful, paint-covered toy soldiers quickly regrouped at the sound of commands and whistles. They began constructing fortifications on the ground and maneuvered wooden cannons into position for the ongoing battle.

Morris observed this spectacle with a mix of curiosity and fascination. He leaned down to pick up one of the toy soldiers for a closer examination. As he did so, the metal plate on his forehead slid back, revealing an intricate network of rapidly whirring gears and vibrating springs inside his skull. A mechanical arm extended, pushing a set of precision lenses into place to scrutinize the tiny soldier.

The toy soldier, however, was not passive in Morris’s grip. It struggled fiercely, using the butt of its rifle to strike against his fingers. The clashing of wood against metal produced a series of sharp, clanging noises.

Releasing the toy soldier, Morris flexed his fingers, turning his attention towards Lucretia, the “Sea Witch,” who masterfully orchestrated various toy soldiers, origami tanks, and paper soldiers across the battlefield with her baton. “…Quite temperamental,” he remarked.

Looking somewhat exasperated, Lucretia responded, “…Can you stop grabbing my soldiers for your studies?” She gestured around them, “Why don’t you study the remains of those demons? They are everywhere here…”

Morris, pulling out a pipe and then remembering his current robotic state, reluctantly put it back in his pocket. “What’s there to study about demon remains? We get them on the ship every other day,” he said nonchalantly, “I’m more intrigued by your puppetry techniques. The way you animate them seems related to academy technology but with a unique twist… Mind if I study it afterwards?”

“When this is all over, certainly. I’m also quite intrigued by your robotic body,” Lucretia replied casually, “I’ve had my dealings with the Truth Academy and am familiar with your ‘divine art’ that allows for partial mechanization of the body. But to fully ‘cast’ oneself into machinery… that’s something new to me.”

Morris smiled, a mechanical buzzing emanating from his throat as he was about to speak, but his attention was suddenly diverted.

In the shadowy recesses of the cave, near the ominous black door, a figure had appeared almost out of nowhere.

This figure, draped in a tattered white robe, seemed to have been standing there unnoticed for an age, invisible to the chaotic demons and Lucretia’s summoned “soldiers” alike. The figure stood eerily out of place on the battlefield, like a phantom from another dimension.

He appeared to be intently observing the black door, his gaze unwavering, fixed on it without the slightest movement.

The fleeting glimpse of the enigmatic figure was but a brief occurrence. As Morris’s eyes opened following a blink, the figure had vanished into thin air.

Seeing Morris’s distracted demeanor, Lucretia quickly directed her soldiers to dispatch yet another demon emerging from the black door. After ensuring their success, she turned to Morris with a hint of concern, “What’s wrong?”

“There was a figure by the black door,” Morris replied, his voice carrying a tone of seriousness, “It disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Didn’t you catch a glimpse of it?”

Lucretia shook her head, her expression slightly troubled, “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t watching that area…”

“It’s fine,” Morris reassured the “witch,” gesturing dismissively, “I managed to capture an image of it.”

Lucretia’s face registered surprise: “An image…?”

Nodding, Morris’s body became a hubbub of mechanical activity as gears turned and mechanisms clicked into place. In a somewhat unsettling manner, his entire jaw unhinged, opening up to reveal a dark cavity. From this, he carefully extracted a palm-sized photograph.

After waving the photo to dry, Morris reattached his jaw casually and handed it to Lucretia, “It’s a bit blurry as if something interfered with it, but you can still discern a white silhouette.”

Lucretia took the photograph with a curious look and observed the indistinct figure near the black door. Her gaze, however, soon drifted back to Morris, a mix of bewilderment and fascination on her face, “…How do you even have such a capability…?”

Morris offered a small, knowing smile: “As I’ve mentioned, my younger years were filled with numerous adventures…”

Lucretia: “…”

…

Meanwhile, Duncan sensed a subtle yet profound shift as he retracted his hand. He couldn’t pinpoint whether this shift pertained to his own destiny or the world’s future, but he intuitively felt that his decision in this moment held significant weight, for better or worse.

He looked up, his eyes resting on the dark red core that floated calmly in the vicinity. The light within the core flickered intermittently, contrasting with the now subdued “mountain range” in the background, its lights dimming.

His refusal to comply didn’t seem to have incited anger in this ancient deity; rather, it seemed more perplexed.

After a moment of silence, the core finally spoke, its voice tinged with inquiry, “Why?”

The light within the core then intensified slightly as it continued, “Theoretically, repairing the shelter aligns with your goals — you’ve saved three city-states already. Taking control of this world would enable a more comprehensive salvation of all city-states, securing them against the threats of loss of control and pollution for an extended period… I have considered all possible scenarios, and this outcome should be favorable to you. So, why do you refuse?”

For a brief moment, Duncan remained silent, deep in thought. Then, breaking the silence, he inquired with sudden curiosity, “And then what?”

The dark red core, an entity with a rich, maroon hue, appeared to be taken aback by the question, echoing uncertainly, “Then what?”

Duncan’s voice was steady and composed as he elaborated, “I’m curious about what you foresee happening after this ‘considerably long time’ you’ve mentioned. What’s the next step?”

In response, the dark red core seemed to withdraw into itself, its dim, flickering light betraying a sense of hesitation or perhaps contemplation as it remained quiet.

Duncan continued, his tone still calm but with a hint of skepticism, “I’m not entirely sure if there are alternative paths we could take. Maybe your suggestion is indeed the most sensible option we have at the moment. Perhaps things will unfold just as you’ve predicted. But for now, I find myself unable to concur with your viewpoint.”

He took a small step back, his demeanor calm yet resolute.

“It’s more of an intuition, but something about your ‘plan’ doesn’t sit right with me. I’m convinced that there are other solutions, alternatives that don’t merely involve resetting this shelter and continuing our mere existence in a state of survival.”

Duncan paused, his gaze intently focused on the sporadic flickers of light emanating from the core.

“Furthermore, your reaction just now is telling. It’s evident that even you are uncertain about the long-term outcomes after this ‘considerably long time’. It’s possible that my taking over could indeed rejuvenate the entire shelter, bringing it back to its ideal state and rectifying all its current shortcomings. However, even you seem unsure about the longevity of a shelter that has been repaired and realigned with its original ‘blueprint’. How long it can sustain itself in such a condition is still an open question.”

“The once revered suns, hailed as ‘eternal’, have now faded not once, but twice, signaling their impermanence. The ‘Eternal Veil’, known for the enigmatic mist that marks our borders, has been gradually disintegrating over the course of decades. Even the gods, once thought immortal, are facing their demise. And you, you’re certainly not oblivious to the state you’re in — everything is subject to decay and deterioration. I don’t hold the illusion that by merely assuming the roles of the ancient kings and deities, I can alter this inevitable course. This ‘Boundless Sea’, our world meant to be a haven for all life forms, is proving inadequate, both in its resources and the space it offers. It’s just too… limited for our needs.”

He paused for a moment, his voice taking on a more personal tone. “Looking at it from a purely selfish perspective, I have no desire to find myself in your current predicament ten thousand years from now, helplessly observing this shelter crumbling into its demise. At that distant point in time, who would be there for me to pass on this colossal burden? Who would I find to ‘take over’ the responsibilities of maintaining all this?”