Ashes Of Deep Sea-Chapter 292 - 296: The White Oak Sets Sail Again

Chapter 292: Chapter 296: The White Oak Sets Sail Again

Plunder, southeast dock district, a beautiful white steamship was undergoing its final preparation check.

After a lengthy docking period, the “White Oak” was finally ready to set sail again. This time, it would carry an array of commissioned items from the Plunder City-State, travelling through the central and northern sea routes and heading north, passing through Cold Harbor, all the way to Frost.

It was a significant journey, but for the specially modified exploration vessel designed for rapid transoceanic voyages, most of this route within the safety zones of the sea posed no great challenge—the robust steam core would ensure the mighty power of the ship, and the newly refurbished onboard chapel ought to shelter all the crewmembers safely.

Both the bustling sailors on shore and aboard seemed quite at ease.

At the rear of the White Oak, in the machine room, the Chief Engineer and his assistant were supervising the sailors as they completed the final preparations for the steam core.

This mighty machine, as large as a house, was secured onto the ship’s main support structure by a sturdy steel frame. It comprised three vertically arranged spherical containers and a series of complex pipes, valves, and interlocking devices surrounding the containers. A metal drawbridge hung at mid-height across the three containers, allowing sailors to inspect the operation of the steam core and carry out necessary maintenance.

At that moment, several sailors were busy on the metal drawbridge. They had opened the heavy doors of the spherical containers and removed several dim metal rods, which were nearly worn out. They then secured several pale-gold metal rods, each about as thick as a forearm and nearly a meter long, within the door’s slots. They started the mechanism that sent these rods to the center of the containers.

These were catalysts made of Boiling Gold and were the source of the steam core’s formidable power, as well as one of the key assurances of the machine’s steady operation. Like the priest’s prayers and incense rituals near the steam pipes, the Boiling Gold catalysts within the steam core could also ward off certain malevolent forces to a degree, preventing the machine from suddenly becoming “bewitched” after long-term operation.

The squeaking of pulleys and hinges resounded. Two sailors’ actions were a bit too rough, causing the burly, bald Chief Engineer to suddenly shout, “Be careful! Don’t damage those Boiling Gold catalysts; they’re as soft as breadsticks. If you break one, the captain will have someone’s head!”

“If you’re talking about the breadsticks Chief Cook Finlay bakes—then you should worry about the steam core’s sliding grooves and catches being damaged!” A sailor on the drawbridge laughed out loud, but while making his joke, he became more attentive in his movements.

“Once we get to Frost, I’ll suggest to the captain that we buy a batch of high-quality Boiling Gold catalysts from there—the Boiling Gold there is as cheap as stones on the ground,” muttered the assistant engineer, a woman who appeared to be in her thirties or forties, with arms as strong as a man’s, her work clothes stained with grease. “The Adventurer’s Association’s procurement channels are a rip-off.”

“It depends on whether the commissioners and the church agree,” the Chief Engineer shrugged. “Half of the White Oak’s cargo hold consists of special ‘Sealed Chambers,’ and many of the items we’re carrying this time are raw materials and semi-finished products for Sacred Relics ordered by the church. Those things are very sensitive. The supplies delivered to the ship must have a strict inventory—previously, the Gray Crow ended up with loosened seals in its chambers because some idiot snuck a barrel of mead onboard, leading to two shadows escaping and killing half of the ship’s crew…”

“I know, so when the time comes, I’ll merely suggest it to the captain,” the assistant engineer waved her hand dismissively, then frowned slightly. “But speaking of which, it seems the captain hasn’t arrived yet—he’s usually not late.”

“The captain will come,” the Chief Engineer said, pausing for emphasis before repeating, “The captain will come—he hasn’t retired yet.”

…

“You really should retire,” his wife said, arms folded as she leaned against the door frame, looking at him with a displeased expression, her gaze sharp as ever. “Don’t wait for me to come aboard and drag you by the ear before you realize how serious your condition is.”

Lawrence didn’t respond. He simply continued to adjust his captain’s uniform in front of the mirror. He checked his meticulously combed hair and picked up the hat placed beside him with great solemnity. Only after placing it carefully on his head did he let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Martha, but I need to leave,” the old captain said softly. “The White Oak is waiting in the harbor.”

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His wife quietly watched him, devoid of angry words, ceaseless complaints, only offering a long, silent gaze.

After who knows how long, she finally sighed softly, “Alright, then be safe and come back early—don’t run into any more messy trouble.”

“Hopefully.” Lawrence sighed in resignation and turned away from the mirror.

“Did you take everything?”

“Everything’s taken.”

“What about the house keys and the protective amulet for going out?”

“I have them with me, haven’t forgotten.”

“Take a small prayer book, it’ll be beneficial.”

“I have that too,” Lawrence said, bending down to pick up his small suitcase by the door, giving it a pat, “along with some hand-copied prayers and sacred candles obtained from the cathedral.”

His wife opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to say more, but Lawrence turned with a smile, “I’ve taken everything, not yet senile enough to forget things.”

His wife fell silent for a moment, then exhaled softly, “Your medicine.”

At that word, Lawrence froze mid-motion.

“Take your medicine, don’t forget,” his wife repeated.

Lawrence’s lips trembled slightly as his gaze slowly shifted to the side.

On the small, low table by the door, a little brown glass bottle sat quietly, the sunlight streaming onto its body and faintly revealing the clear quality of the liquid inside.

After a long silence, Lawrence picked up the bottle of medicine. It took him several seconds before he finally opened the little cork.

He looked up at Martha, seeing his wife still leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, watching him, just as she always did in his memory.

“Have a safe trip,” she said with the shape of her lips.

“I’m heading out now,” Lawrence replied softly, and then, following the guidance of the psychiatrist, he let a few drops of the medicine fall into his mouth.

The intense flavor spread throughout his mouth, and the silhouette of his wife gently dissipated in the sunlight.

Lawrence silently secured the cap on the bottle, then opened his small suitcase and placed the rest of the medicine in a corner where it would be safe from bumps. As he packed his things, he muttered complaints: “That psychiatrist is full of baloney… This stuff is so bitter you could die, doesn’t smell like herbs at all.”

The old sea captain, who had spent half his life adrift on the Endless Sea, finished preparing his belongings with a soft sigh, picked up his suitcase, and left his home.

…

After finishing a day’s work, Heidi finally got back home just before evening. She pushed open the door, took off her coat, and the first thing she did upon walking into the living room was to flop ungracefully into a chair and let out a deep sigh.

Her mother was sitting by the warm fireplace, sorting through some letters. Hearing her daughter arrive, she tilted her head slightly and said, “You’re a grown woman—try to maintain some poise. It isn’t ladylike to slump like that.”

“Let the lady rest. The lady’s been dealing with nightmarish hallucinations and the senseless rantings of sailors all day,” Heidi sank into the chair, waving her hand weakly, “One ship had a mechanical failure out on the Endless Sea, and they were stranded out there nearly twice as long as planned. They had to carry several sailors off the ship, all trussed up—it was a disaster.”

With that, she sighed and shook her head, lamenting, “Earning a living on the Endless Sea is truly no easy task.”

Her mother looked up from the letters, “Sounds pretty rough. You can’t just collapse like that. Go upstairs and take a bath to unwind. The bathwater is already heated.”

“Alright, you’re right,” Heidi grimaced, but finally mustered the energy to get up from the chair. She made her way towards the staircase, but then stopped, driven by curiosity, “These letters are…?”

“Water bill, electric bill, gas—and all sorts of bills,” her mother replied casually, “Your father usually takes care of these, but he’s out, so I handled it.”

“Okay, I’d rather not deal with that stuff,” Heidi stated as she waved her hand dismissively and headed upstairs.

The mother watched her daughter ascend the staircase in silence before returning her gaze to the letters before her.

Most of them indeed were bills.

But there were two actual letters—one of which was from a place unimaginable to most.

It was a letter from Morris, delivered earlier that afternoon by a messenger who was ablaze with green flames.

The letter was enchanted with a special spell from the god of wisdom to prevent outsiders from seeing its true contents.

The elderly woman smiled as she recognized the familiar handwriting:

“…On my way to Frost, not much to see along the way, just the occasional patch of floating ice and distant fog on the sea, which are quite interesting…

“…Nina was doing her homework in the restaurant today when a strange shadow ran out of her textbook. Everyone scrambled to beat it. It was quite the spectacle…

“…Before lunch, the captain went fishing again, you know, for that kind of ‘fish’—it struggled fiercely this time. It was a breathtaking spectacle. The captain says the more lively fish taste better, but honestly, I couldn’t tell the difference…”

The elderly woman chuckled and set that letter aside to pick up another envelope she had just opened.

This one came from Frost.

The sender was Brown Scott.