Ashes Of Deep Sea-Chapter 267 - 271: From the Frost

Chapter 267: Chapter 271: From the Frost

Maurice used a letter opener to carefully open the envelope that had come from afar.

On the envelope, a series of stamps along with the stamp indicating “already purified,” silently spoke to him of an extremely long wandering journey.

As the letter unfolded with a slight rustle, rows of neat and tidy handwriting appeared before Maurice, and it was indeed the familiar script of his old friend:

“To my good friend and academic partner,

“Since our last contact, it seems that years have passed. This estrangement is truly regrettable. I feel as though these past years have been muddled and hectic, as if I’ve been doing things without meaning. Only recently have I become suddenly aware that I have wasted my time…

“…Many fascinating things have happened lately, which are difficult for me to describe to you in writing concerning changes in my life… Frost is an incredible place, not only for its cold and protracted winters but also for many things worthy of serious study…

...

“Do you remember the topic of certain ancient legends in the far northern icy seas we discussed the last time we met? This topic has once again entered my mind, and I feel as though I may have grasped some key points, which could help us clarify many of the unresolved questions we had, such as whether there were City-States in the icy seas and the origin of many mysterious customs here…

“Frost really is an incredible place, my friend, and my mind grows ever clearer on this point. In these chilly seas, there are many mysteries worth exploring. I plan to meet some illustrious individuals in the fields of history and folklore. I also have plans to visit Cold Harbor soon. Most importantly, I would like to invite you to visit here…

“It’s been many years since we’ve seen each other, Maurice. You said you dislike the cold air of the north, but I think you would like the warm fireplace in my home and the fine wines I’ve collected. Seriously consider it. We can discuss those intriguing secrets by a warm fire once again. Believe me, Frost is indeed an incredible place…

“Wouldn’t you want to come and see? To this incredible Frost City-State…

“Your most trustworthy friend and academic partner, Brown Scott, 1900-12-2, written at 42 Hearth Street.”

Maurice’s gaze silently swept over the last line of the letter, and then for a long time, he said nothing.

It wasn’t until several minutes later that he mumbled to himself as if speaking aloud, “It’s his handwriting, and those discussions he mentioned did indeed happen.”

“Today is December 17th. This letter was sent out half a month ago,” said his wife from beside him, her voice carrying a hint of unease, “Considering the distance between Frost and Plunder, the timing is about right.”

“Yes, the timing is normal, and the postmarks are normal. What is abnormal is the person who wrote the letter died years ago,” Maurice said slowly, “I still remember the day I received the death notice—a letter from Frost. One of his favorite students wrote it, saying that her teacher had unfortunately fallen overboard on a voyage to Cold Harbor and that they hadn’t been able to recover the body.”

“…I don’t remember this, as it happened during those muddled years of mine,” said his wife, coming over and taking Maurice’s hand, “We should report this to the church. The content and wording of this letter seem normal, but upon closer inspection, they are quite unsettling.”

Maurice clasped his wife’s hand and exhaled softly, “Of course, we should report this to the church… but not just to the church.”

…

On the Homeloss, inside the captain’s cabin, Duncan leaned his hands on the navigation table, gazing intently at the mist-shrouded sea chart and the progressively extending route lines.

Representing the Homeloss, a ghostly image was moving slowly at the center of the sea chart. Surrounding the ship, the thick mist progressively dissipated with the ship’s advance. At one end of the route, one could see the Plunder City-State that had been temporarily left behind, and outside the route in the mist, one could faintly discern another dimly glowing spot.

Duncan’s eyes landed on that glowing spot.

It was the Sea Mist.

Ever since the last incident of “mutual fire at dusk”, the mark of the Sea Mist had appeared on this chart.

In Duncan’s own perception, he could also roughly sense the direction of the Sea Mist and even the general state of the ship.

This perception was vague, but it did not seem to diminish as the distance between the Homeloss and the Sea Mist increased.

Obviously, just like those marked by the Spectral Flame, the Sea Mist, which had been bombarded from close range by the Homeloss, had also established a connection with him.

However, this was after all only a “connection” and not a complete control like with the Homeloss, so on the sea chart, the Sea Mist could only show up as a glowing point and was unable to disperse the fog covering the route.

“Are you deciding the next course?” The voice of Goat Head suddenly came from the edge of the navigation table, “In that case, I have about a hundred and forty very useful suggestions, I can…”

“No, you cannot,” Duncan interrupted very adeptly without waiting for the other to start babbling, “No need for any suggestions, I have my own plans.”

Goat Head shook its head as if wanting to say something more, but before it could speak, a series of footsteps suddenly came from outside the door. Soon after, the door to the captain’s cabin was pulled open from the outside, and Alice walked in.

Then, Miss Doll paused and quickly turned around to close the door, knocking on it.

“…You’ve already come in, no need to knock now. You’re supposed to knock before opening the door,” Duncan looked at her expressionlessly, “Is everything ‘over there’ taken care of?”

“Uh-huh,” Alice nodded vigorously, “The shelves on the first floor are organized, the counter and stairs are wiped down, and the kitchen is in order!”

“Uh-huh,” Duncan absently responded, “What about Ai Yi?”

“Ai Yi dropped me off and then went to the kitchen,” Alice said, “When flying away, kept shouting about some ‘Mad Thursday’…”

“He is quite carefree,” Duncan said with a smile and shook his head, then suddenly noticed Alice’s head movements were a bit jerky when she nodded, and he frowned subconsciously, “Why does your neck seem odd when turning… Is the glue in the joints not cleaned out yet?”

Upon hearing this, Alice moved her head from side to side, her neck emitting clear signs of sticking and delay.

“It seems… a little bit,” the automaton lady seemed somewhat embarrassed, “it feels stuck.”

Duncan’s eye twitched, and he helplessly watched the automaton, who was holding her head with her hand, and after a long while let out her signature laugh, “Hehe…”

“Stop laughing,” Duncan sighed, “come here, let me clean it up for you. If you don’t clean the residual glue, it will further damage the joints, and seeing you nod with such stiffness is really uncomfortable.”

“Oh.”

Alice immediately walked over obediently. Once she reached Duncan’s side, she grabbed her head and shook it left and right a couple of times before “pop” pulling it off.

The headless automaton held her own head out, “Cap… Captain, for you.”

A faint feeling of eeriness inevitably surfaced, but Duncan still reached out and took Alice’s head. Then he pulled out a scraper, a brush, and a soft cloth from a small drawer under the navigation desk, sighed, and began to examine the situation inside the dummy’s joints.

He couldn’t help but feel moved.

He could already face these strange scenes so calmly, even naturally participating in them.

The adaptability of human beings was indeed wonderfully profound.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

Picking up the scraper, he gently scraped off the remnants of the adhesive, which was no longer so firm, from the joint. Duncan then lifted his eyelids and glanced at Alice’s face.

Her silver hair spread out over the navigation desk, and the automaton blinked at him, locking eyes.

She was truly beautiful, a delicate and perfect face that could make people forget the strangeness, evoking admiration for this beauty despite the bizarre circumstances.

But what a pity that she was normally too great at causing a ruckus, to the extent that Duncan, while admiring her beautiful appearance, regretted even more in his heart why she had to have a mouth…

“Are you feeling any discomfort?”

“No, no, not really, just a little, a little itchy, but very… very light,” Alice stammered.

Then she quieted down, and even the goat head sculpture beside her miraculously quieted down too. The room was left with only the light sound of the scraper scraping and the soft sound of the waves outside the window.

After an unknown amount of time, Alice suddenly opened her mouth.

She stammered, her tone carrying a hint of hesitation and rare sense of loss, “Cap… Captain, am I… am I very… very dumb?”

Duncan’s actions suddenly stopped.

He was surprised that the automaton was even capable of self-awareness and reflection.

But then he just shook his head expressionlessly, “Why do you suddenly feel this way?”

“I… I always fail to, to learn what you teach… teach me, and I always… always mess things up, even… even delay your… your time.”

Duncan fell silent for a moment, then lifted the scraper in his hand again.

“I don’t think you’re wasting my time,” he said lightly, “And yes, you are a bit dumb.”

“Is… is that… that how it is.”

“But that’s alright, everyone has things they’re good at and not good at, and everyone is just ‘dumb’ in the areas they’re not good at. You might just have a few more of those areas,” Duncan looked into Alice’s eyes, “Do you care about this a lot?”

“I… I don’t know, I haven’t thought… thought about this, but I’m worried it will… will… will drag down… your work…”

“Then drop those useless worries. Just keep living happily,” Duncan shook his head, “If you encounter something you can’t learn, then just learn it a few more times.”

“Then… will… will you teach me… teach me a few… a few more times?”

“…If I have the time.”

Alice blinked, as if pondering for a moment, then slowly smiled.

“Hehe…”

Hearing that signature laugh, Duncan couldn’t help but smile as well, then picked up the brush and soft cloth to clean off the dry glue scraps that had been scraped off.

And that was when a distant, yet clear call suddenly appeared in his mind.

It was Morris’s voice.

(I’m not running a fever anymore, my body aches less, my throat is still sore, can’t sit for long, am feeling fatigued, and I’m groggy all day from not being able to rest properly… The good news is I’m indeed getting better.)