As the sinister shadows cast by entities from the spirit world quickly retreated, the ominously dark sea gradually returned to its natural, vibrant shade of blue. The ship was now enveloped in the real worldâs daylight, while a delicate mist, seemingly alive, drifted around, blanketing the entire oceanic expanse.
Driven by curiosity and a sense of adventure, Nina dashed from her room to the deck. There, she immediately spotted an unusual and massive ship not too far from the Vanished. It was almost completely wrecked, with eerie green flames engulfing it, a testament to a catastrophic explosion it had endured. Despite its severe damage and being driven solely by the ghostly flames, it continued forward at a slowing pace. Its path was directed toward a âborderâ that, until today, Nina had only read about in dusty old textbooks.
This border was nothing short of majesticâa towering wall of thick fog that stretched from the lofty skies down to the depths of the sea. It resembled an ethereal waterfall of clouds cascading from the heavens, creating a fine mist that shrouded the entire ocean. In its formidable presence, all else seemed trivial and insignificant. Even Nina, who had become accustomed to the supernatural during her time aboard the Vanished, instinctively widened her eyes in awe before exclaiming a lengthy, impressed: âWowââ
Just then, Shirley burst onto the scene, rushing to the shipâs railing to join Nina in her amazement. As she peered into the distance, she too couldnât contain her astonishment and echoed Ninaâs sentiment: âWow~â
Her exclamation was abruptly interrupted by Dogâs voice emanating from the shadows: âThatâs precisely why I always encourage you to read more. If you possessed a richer vocabulary, you wouldnât be confined to just âwowâ upon encountering such a splendid spectacle as this borderâŠâ
Shirley shot back a glare, her voice tinged with defiance: âNina expressed her amazement with âwowâ too! Why donât you criticize her?â
Dog, materializing from the shadows with a dismissive shake of his head, replied: âNinaâs âwowâ stems from her belief that the word perfectly captures this moment. Your âwowâ is merely a reflection of your limited vocabulary. Thereâs a distinct difference between the two of youâŠâ frđđđ eđŻđ»ovel.cđšm
Hearing this, Shirleyâs cheeks puffed up with indignation as she retorted, âI⊠I know plenty of words! Itâs just that the captain and Old Morris always restrict what I can say! If I were given the freedom to speak my mind, IâŠâ
However, her protest fell on deaf ears. With his fierce yet wise appearance, Dog had already shifted his attention to the more pressing matter of the border. He prowled cautiously, his senses attuned to the surrounding environment, alert to the presence of auras emanating from other dimensions. After a brief pause, he muttered to himself with a hint of concern: ââŠThis region is far from the safety of known waters⊠Unstable energies are rampant here, and even though weâre anchored in the real world, I can still detect the faint, unsettling scent of the spirit realmâŠâ
As Lucretiaâs voice emerged, accompanied by a whimsical dance of colorful paper scraps in the air, she began to unveil the ominous nature of their surroundings. âThis is the border, merely the most superficial layer of its countless strange and perilous characteristics,â she declared. âHere, the very fabric of ârealityâ starts to fray, and things that lurk dormant in safer waters awaken with a vengeance. Machinery is prone to possession, books become magnets for increasingly malevolent entities, various objects on the ship might inexplicably spring to life, and sometimes, particularly when we unwittingly intersect with unseen âfields,â these hazards can intensify exponentially.â
She drifted to the deckâs edge, her eyes locked on the distant, swirling fog, and continued in a voice laced with introspection and a hint of nostalgia. âThatâs precisely why almost no rational explorer ventures to the border to âtest their luck.â Here, one doesnât find glory or riches, just a chilling, odd environment, and a fate filled with peril and horror. The handful of âlunaticsâ who dare to tread here have devised their own bizarre âoperating rulesâ for survival, such as prohibiting any idols or paintings with human features aboard, refraining from raising oneâs voice in the fog, avoiding prolonged stares into mirrors, and so forthâŠâ
As Lucretia, known as the âSea Witch,â recounted the ominous and spine-chilling realities of the border, Shirleyâs eyes widened in growing terror, and she couldnât suppress a shudder. âI⊠holy shit⊠that sounds terrifyingâŠâ
âYes, it is profoundly terrifying. Typically, novices to border exploration like you should steer clear of this regionâbut you neednât worry, for this is the Vanished, and you are part of the Vanished Fleet,â Lucretia responded, her voice steady and calm as her gaze lingered on the sea.
âMy father and this ship⊠theyâve changed beyond my childhood memories. If itâs the Vanished of today, Iâm confident that even if something âreallyâ manages to sneak aboard and opens your door, it would courteously apologize and shut the door upon its departureâŠâ
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No sooner had she finished her sentence than a voice emerged from beside her: âGenerally speaking, they donât even get the opportunity to shut the door and apologize.â
Lucretia turned to find Duncan, who had silently made his way onto the deck without her noticing.
ââ
âWeâve just intercepted a psychic dispatch from Vanna. The Storm Churchâs vessel, known as the âTide,â has reached the nearby waters and is expected to make its presence known shortly. Additionally, the Death Churchâs formidable battleships are in the vicinity, deploying smaller scout boats to ascertain the maritime conditions around us,â he reported with a certain gravity in his tone.
Lucretia nodded thoughtfully, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and determination. âThatâs good to know. We need to fully understand the situation hereâin that regard, the church fleet that patrols the border year-round certainly has more expertise than we do.â
Duncan hummed in agreement, his words few but his resolve clear. He began maneuvering the Vanished slowly towards the designated âguide ship,â while the Bright Star, having emerged from its spectral state, followed at a relaxed pace, a silent escort in the eerie waters.
Ten minutes had passed when the Vanished and Bright Star drew near the wrecked vessel, proceeding with a deliberate, unhurried cruise. As they approached the enigmatic âcurtain,â the sea mist seemed to thicken, swirling around them like ghostly veils in a spectral dance. Even the green flames that typically kept the fog at bay from the Vanished were struggling to pierce through this denser shroud.
Upon Duncanâs command, the trio of ships halted their advance as the fog grew increasingly impenetrable.
âLetâs hold our position until weâve fully regrouped and then proceed,â Duncan instructed from the Vanishedâs bow deck, his gaze piercing through the fog-blanketed sea. âFirst, letâs illuminate our surroundings.â
With a purposeful gesture towards the âguide shipâ leading them, he snapped his fingers. In response, the green flames engulfing the large ship surged with newfound vigor. The spectral fire ballooned and soared, erupting into a luminous display powerful enough to slice through the enveloping fog!
In an instant, a makeshift âlighthouseâ of ghost flames stood defiantly in the misty border seas, casting a fierce glow that began to thin the obscuring mist around the ships, reclaiming visibility from the clutches of the fog.
As the ships basked in this newfound light, Vanna and Morris emerged on deck, drawn by the spectacle. Morris, ever the curious one, peered over the side, observing how the seaâs color appeared even more profound within the dense fog. The dark blue waters, usually lively with the oceanâs pulse, now seemed eerily calm, with only gentle, sluggish ripples disturbing its surface. The water moved so slowly, so thickly, it resembled a vast expanse of detailed, viscous grease.
Vanna, her brow furrowed in concern, watched the suspiciously still sea. After a moment of contemplation, she retrieved a small wooden amuletâa talisman carved from the rare sea-breath woodâfrom around her neck and cast it into the peculiar waters below.
The talisman, embodying the faith and protective essence of the storm deity, performed a peculiar dance upon touching the seaâs surface. It bounced as if it had struck a solid barrier, remarkably not causing a single ripple nor sinking into the depths below. Instead, it lay motionless atop the slow-moving, gelatinous sea for several moments before it began to absorb the deep blue hue of the surrounding waters, silently dissolving into the sea as if it were part of it all along.
Vanna watched this unforeseen event with a mix of surprise and intrigue. Yet, despite the strange behavior of the sea and the amulet, the familiar, soothing sound of waves lapped at her ears, a comforting constant in this eerie place.
Oddly enough, it seemed that the blessing of the Storm Goddess Gomona, was not only unimpeded by these abnormal conditions but perhaps was even invoked a touch more swiftly than usual in this unusual sea.
As she pondered this, Vannaâs attention was abruptly drawn to the distant, fog-laden sea. In sync with her gaze shifting, a long, clear steam whistle pierced the quiet of the border waters, signaling a change. A faint light began to pierce the dense fog, and behind this beacon, the vague outline of a massive ship started to emerge from the mist.
The ambient sound of gentle waves grew slightly more pronounced, and through this psychic resonance, Vanna received confirmation from her fellow church members. Simultaneously, the emerging behemoth and its accompanying smaller vessels began to decelerate at a measured distance, each ship materializing from the fog like specters at dawn.
Through the meandering fog, the newly arrived ships, along with the Vanished and Bright Star already present, commenced a ritual of mutual recognitionâa critical and ongoing procedure in the enigmatic border seas.
This continuous verification of identity was essential because, in the dense, disorienting fog of the border, one could never be too sure if the figure beside you remained the same entity from one moment to the next.
âItâs the Storm Churchâs âTideâ and its accompanying fleet,â Vanna quietly informed Duncan, who stood contemplatively at the helm, âConfirmation has been made through psychic resonance.â
Duncan gave a firm nod in acknowledgment: âGood, permit them to draw nearer. Let them come into the area illuminated by our flames.â