Ashes of the Deep

Chapter 5 ：Interlaced

The massive shadow crushed in, and every man on board the White Oak saw the moment that would be remembered for the rest of their lives.

It was the ancient and majestic-looking three-masted warship-in an age when steamships were no longer a rarity, the sailing warship emerging from the fog was ancient as if it had stepped out of a painting of a century ago, its masts soaring, its sides steep, its blackened wooden hull blazing with the green fire of the departed soul, its huge sails in the nothingness bulged up, the sails coalescing with hissing visions and layers of fiery flames. Such a scene, even on the dreadful infinite sea, would only appear in the most horrific legends of shipwrecks.

"It's going to crash!!!"

Some crew members exclaimed loudly, these people who made a living at sea and were known for their bravery and rudeness could not help but lose their heads when facing such a huge ship, they shouted and ran, some tried to find a place to hide on the decks, some grabbed everything around them that could hold themselves in place, and some even knelt down directly in the midst of the bumps and winds and waves and prayed and recited with unprecedented piety The Goddess of Storms, Gemona, or the Lord of Death, Bartok.

The blessings of the gods had waned on this boundless sea, but only the power of these two righteous gods could still look upon all their people equally.

But not all the crew lost their calmness, the first mate of the ship first turned his attention to his most trusted captain, he knew that sailing on the boundless sea is full of crisis, and the experienced captain is always the key to determine the fate of the whole ship, Lawrence has set foot on the sea for more than thirty years, this old captain of more than a hundred years may not be as strong as in his younger days, but the experience he has survived in this ocean may still be able to provide a silver lining for all. might still provide a chance of survival for all.

The ship that emerged from the fog clearly did not look like a normal ship sailing in the real world, but more like something emerging from the spirit world or the "deeper", and if it was some kind of transcendental vision, then perhaps some kind of transcendental power could be used to fight it instead.

The veteran captains who sailed on the boundless sea were more or less experienced in facing transcendental visions.

However, the first mate only saw fear and shock on the captain's face.

The old captain held the steering wheel motionlessly, as if he hadn't noticed that the entire ship had been completely shrouded in shadows, and he stared dead on at the crushing shadow of the ship directly in front of him, the muscles on his face as if it were a stone sculpture, and he finally squeezed out a few words from between his teeth, which were even colder than the wind on the cold sea: ".... . it's the Lost Country ship ......"

"The ship ...... captain?!" The first mate was startled by the name that drifted into his ears, like every man who had made a living on the infinite sea, he had heard the name from many older, more senior and more superstitious crew members than himself, "What did you say? That ......"

"The Lost Country!!!"

Captain Lawrence, however, acted as if he hadn't heard the first mate's voice, he simply gripped the White Oak's steering wheel as hard as he could, hissing and growling as if he were about to roar at something, and almost as soon as the words fell from his lips, the looming hull of the Lost Country finally touched the bow of the White Oak.

Almost all the sailors screamed.

However, the expected earth-shaking impact did not occur - the huge ship burning with green flames seemed like a grand-scale phantom, sweeping across the deck of the White Oak with a whistling phantom of light and flame, thick hulls, grimy cabins, dimly-lit corridors, burning flaming keels and pillars... ...The sailors watched in horror as they crashed into the phantom ship's vision, and the burning green flames of the phantom ship swept past them like a web of fire.

Lawrence also watched the flames roar towards him, but before that, he first saw the flames sweep past the first mate in front of him - the first mate's body suddenly transformed into an illusory spirit body in the illusory flames, and the bones in the spirit body burned like firewood, and then he saw the pastor beside the prayer platform in front of him, and saw that the flames on that pastor's body suddenly brightened up. The flames on that priest flickered and dimmed, as if the gods behind him were still sheltering him from the engulfing of the Lost Country with a meager bestowal of blessings.

Then the flames reached Lawrence, and he saw the same change in his own body, while a strong feeling of weariness, obedience, and awe filled his whole body, and the marine amulet which he had concealed in his body began to work, and an alternating sensation of burning heat and coolness barely maintained his reason, and, in what remained of his sanity, he "passed through" the ship of the Lost Country, and was able to see the flame. In what remained of his senses, he "passed through" the cabins and corridors of the Lost Country.

The gloomy and depressing ship's cabin came and went, the old wooden pillars burning with green fire were entangled with rotting ropes and barnacles, he saw a huge cargo warehouse, in which all kinds of weird things that should be buried in the deep sea were lying quietly, and he saw a luxurious cabin, in the center of which there was a wooden goat's head placed on the table.

The goat's head was twisted around and gazed indifferently into Lawrence's eyes.

At last, Lawrence raised his head with all his strength, and he saw the figure at the helm of the wheel-the tall figure clad in the black mariner's uniform beside the classical rudder, as if he were the lord of a nightmare, the figure who ruled over all the phantom flames, and even the sea, which was already in the depths of the spirit world, seemed to yield to his majesty, and in the presence of whom he had a great deal of influence, he was a great man. Even the sea, which was already at the depth of the spirit world, seemed to be afraid of his majesty, and to have torn a rift behind him.

Lawrence closed his eyes in resignation - he knew that he was now a part of the Lost Country, and that the nightmarish captain needed some sacrifice to satisfy his never-ending emptiness and loneliness.

But in the next second, he braced his courage and opened his eyes again, feeling as if all his courage and madness in this life had come together in those few seconds, recalling his knowledge from books as well as legends, and gazing with as much honesty and calmness as he could muster at that horrible captain who stood on the Lost Country.

"You don't have to take everyone. Take me away and spare my crew."

Yet the tall figure did not answer, he simply cast his eyes over the ship indifferently, and there seemed to be a slight curiosity in that gaze. As if curious as to why a tiny mortal captain dared to bargain with himself.

Lawrence finally couldn't hold back and let out a roar, "They all still have wives and children!!!"

That figure standing on the Lost Country ship finally responded, he stared at Lawrence's direction and seemed to say something, but a kind of loud whistling sound rang out from the side, and in the sound of the whistling sound, Lawrence could only vaguely hear some movement, however, he couldn't hear a single word clearly.

The response that came from the Lost Country was thus dissipated in the whistling of the waves -

"What did you say? The wind is too strong for me to hear!!!"

The next second, a loud clamor rushed into Lawrence's ears, which was mixed with the sound of the wind, the waves, and the shouts of the sailors outside the door, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw that there were green flames fading fast, while the last remaining phantom of the Lost Country dissipated cleanly from the air like a fog.

Lawrence drew a sharp breath, and then noticed that his own hands, which had been burned out by the green flames, were restored to their original state, and that even the others in the cockpit had been transformed back into flesh and blood, and that the pious priest was lying on his back beside the prayer-stand, gasping for breath, and at the same time chanting the holy name of the storm-goddess, Gemona, and that the purple-black soot of the incense-burner of the unseemly nature of the incense was gradually dispersing, and that what was rising from the copper hood, was pure white smoke.

It took Lawrence a long time to catch his breath, and then he looked around in disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that the nightmare that had just happened was over, until the first mate's voice came from the sidelines, "Captain! That ship, the Lost Country, has left!"

Lawrence was a little disoriented and reacted for a few seconds before muttering, "...... He actually left us alone?"

The first mate didn't hear him for a moment, "Captain? What did you say?"

"That Captain Duncan ......," Lawrence muttered subconsciously, but then immediately slapped himself as if he had accidentally brought up some f*******n word, and then he jerked his head up to look at the first mate, "Roll call of the entire ship. Quickly! Find out who's missing from the ship!"

The first mate immediately nodded his head and led the order, but just as he was about to leave, Lawrence immediately called out to him again, "And see if there are any more people on board!"

The first mate froze for a moment, and then immediately reacted, with an extra hint of shocked fear in his eyes, he took a deep breath and whispered the name of the Storm Goddess, and then immediately darted outside to the deck.

Still sailing in the state of the spirit world on the White Oak, the sound of the muster bell rang like an urgency.