Shrouded Seascape-Chapter 8. All By Myself

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"Found it! This is it!!"

Charles' excitement surged as he laid eyes upon the item he had been seeking. It had seemingly been abandoned in this place without any guards or watchers nearby. Now, he just needed to bring it back to the Coral Archipelago, and his mission would be accomplished!

Just when he was about to take a step forward to reach for the golden artifact, a sudden thought stopped him in his tracks. Isn't this a little too simple? If it was this simple, why didn't his predecessors take it away? Instead, they have all vanished.

While Charles was caught up in his thoughts and unable to come to a decision, Bandages moved forward and swiftly picked up the Fhtagn statue.

He then returned to Charles' side and spoke in his usual slow manner, "Let's... go back... The High Priest is waiting..."

Charles was really bothered that something felt amiss, but he did not have the luxury of time to dwell on it. With the mission objective in their hand, Charles gestured and led the party to swiftly depart from the building.

"That thing seems heavy, so let's take turns carrying it every thirty minutes."

Walking next to Charles, Bandages and James nodded in agreement. They backtracked on the same path and hurried along toward the beach. free(w)ebnovel(.)com

Even with the rotation, the heavy weight of the statue was still taxing on their already tired bodies. Thus, halfway through their trek, Charles decided to stop for a brief respite. They couldn't afford to exhaust themselves completely, for they needed to remain vigilant and ready to react to any unforeseen circumstances.

Seated by the crackling fire, Charles's gaze scanned the darkness that surrounded them. If there were any potential danger, it would most likely manifest itself on their journey back, and he couldn't afford to let his guard down.

After resting for fifteen minutes or so, Charles turned and spoke to Bandages, "For the remaining journey, we cannot stop. We need to press on until the end."

Bandages nodded and paused. He then looked to his left, and looked to his right before turning back to Charles and replied, "I... I seem to have... forgotten something..."

"As long as we have the statue with us, everything else doesn't matter. Let's hurry," Charles replied with a hint of impatience. He held the idol tightly in his arms and forged ahead.

Bandages fell silent and followed after him without uttering a word.

The eerie forest flickered in and out of view under the illumination of their fire torches. Apart from their own footsteps and labored breathing, it was absolute silence.

When Charles finally caught a glimpse of S.S. Mouse on the distant beach, his sweat-soaked face displayed a smile of relief.

"Success! Once I'm back, I can give this thing to those cultists, buy my exploration ship, recruit a crew and embark on my journey back home."

However, the moment he stepped foot on the sandy ground and was about to sprint toward S.S. Mouse, his foot froze mid-air, and the smile faded from his face. A perplexing question had suddenly entered his mind.

"I sailed a ship of this size to this place all by myself?"

A sense of inexplicable dread enveloped Charles as he retraced his memories.

"The Fhtagn cultists requested for me to search for their sacred artifact. I set sail on S.S. Mouse by myself, prepared food in the kitchen by myself, fueled the engines by myself, cleaned the deck by myself, patrolled the deck by... myself... I take the helm by... myself on a 24-hour shift?"

Charles clutched the golden statue in his arms and paced back and forth along the sandy beach.

"I used to have a crew. I sailed alongside First Mate Old John and Boatswain Jim. It was just the three of us. But on the previous trip, Jim was skinned alive by the thing from the waters. Old John resigned after we reached the Coral Archipelago. After that, I'm the only one left aboard S.S. Mouse. That's correct!!"

Agony was visible on Charles's face. Despite his memories being vivid and clear, the reality before him made him realize how irrational and illogical his memories were.

"This is not possible! I'm not Superman, how could I have done all of this by myself? There's something wrong!!"

As Charles's gaze absentmindedly swept across the ground, he froze in place.

Staring back at him were seven sets of footprints, clearly imprinted on the sand. There was no mistaking it—they were fresh, proof that these footprints had been left recently.

Charles hastily threw the status aside and removed his own boot. He then compared the boot's outsole with one of the shoe prints on the ground.

"The pattern, size, curvature... this is my footprint! I didn't come here all by myself; my memories have been tampered with!" Charles exclaimed as a cold sweat formed on his brow.

His eyes darted toward the several empty boats near S.S. Mouse. Now he understood why there were no people on those vessels.

Taking a deep breath, Charles forced himself to calm down and tried to piece back his original memories. "The evidence suggests that I am not alone; I have crew members who disappeared. They disappeared in reality and were also wiped off from my memories. I must find them. I can't return on my own."

However, a new challenge presented itself before Charles. How was he supposed to find six individuals he did not recognize, individuals who seemingly did not exist? Who were they? What were their names? Were they men or women?

Just then, a figure emerged from the shadows and stepped into the glow of the torchlight.

The moment Charles caught sight of the individual's appearance, his pupils contracted. He whipped out his revolver and pointed it at the latter's head.

It was a humanoid figure wrapped in tattered, yellowed bandages that barely concealed the dark skin beneath.

"Stop right there! State your name!" Charles demanded.

"I... I am Bandages. No, wait, I'm not... I'm not Bandages. Who are you? I feel like I know you... Do you know me?" the figure replied with a stutter.

Quickly glancing at the mummified feet wrapped in bandages, Charles searched among the seven sets of footprints for one that matched. Much to his disbelief, this person indeed appeared to be one of his crew members.

Lowering his revolver, Charles quickly explained the situation to Bandages.

"Is... is that so? I can't remember. Who am I? Do you... know who I am?" Bandages spoke in uncertainty.

"We'll discuss all of that later. Where did you escape from, and are there others there?" Charles pressed for answers.

"In... in the trees. The trees didn't like me... They let me go. There are others there."

Charles could not fully comprehend what this bandaged individual was saying, but it seemed like he knew where the others might be.

"Hurry, show me the way. We need to rescue them," Charles urged.

Charles imprinted the remaining five shoe patterns deeply into his mind before taking Bandages with him back into the peculiar forest.

The misty woods remained as silent as ever. With Bandages leading the way, they returned to the path marked by the numerous footprints.

With the previous realization in mind, Charles began to notice something amiss. The footprints on the ground dwindled as they moved forward. Clearly, his crew members had disappeared one after another while they were walking toward the building.

Perhaps it was a psychological effect, Charles started to feel as if something in the forest was watching him.

After half an hour of walking, Bandages suddenly veered toward the adjacent forest. Now Charles understood why his bandages were so tattered.