The chart room was as usual as before. The sunlight from the boundless sea spilled into the room through the portholes, making the old objects that condensed a century of time reflect the gleaming light. The black goat head sculpture stayed quietly in the chart room.
One corner of the table controls the direction of the Lost Home, while mist rolls on the surface of the ancient chart. In the surging mist, it means that the trajectory of the known route is expanding straight in a certain direction.
,Forward.
At the end of the track is the city-state of Pland, that flickering light spot has now appeared in the fog ahead, and is gradually closing the distance to the Lost Home at a speed that is imperceptible to the naked eye.
The door opened and Duncan's figure appeared at the door.
The goat's head sculpture immediately started to move, its wooden neck creaked, and it turned its head in the direction of the sound: "Ah, it's the great captain who has come to his loyal lieutenant! Things are going well for you.
What? You have been busy since yesterday. Are you in a good mood today? What’s the weather like today?”
"Stop, stop, stop, you don't have to repeat similar greetings several times a day." Duncan raised his hand to interrupt before the other party finished speaking, and then his eyes lingered on the goat-headed face for a moment as if inadvertently.
The goat's head remained as it always was, showing no expression, and its obsidian eyes were still strangely cold. It was staring at this side of the table with an inhuman quality in its eyes.
But there was no dangerous atmosphere, and nothing different from usual.
This guy seems to have been following Duncan's orders seriously. Duncan asked him to focus on sailing the ship, and he really just focused on sailing the ship.
"Your Excellency, Captain, you look worried?" the goat-headed voice sounded, with the familiar enthusiasm unique to a dog-legged person.
"You seem to have brought back some prisoners. But they seem to be no longer on the ship?"
"They disappear after the sun rises."
Duncan walked slowly behind the navigation table. When he sat down, he said calmly: "They are some final missionaries."
"Ah, the missionary is a troublesome and dangerous guy. They are really difficult to catch. They always appear inexplicably and run away inexplicably." The goat head immediately started talking, as Duncan was familiar with, as long as one
When the topic opens up, this guy will spout a series of nonsense, but these nonsense often contain useful information, so there is no need to bother to cross-examine.
"But how did they provoke you? Those crazy preachers don't usually show up. Compared with Sun Cultists or Annihilation Cultists, they are low-key and rare."
"They attacked a human I was with, and they captured it and used it to test Alice's abilities." Duncan said casually while observing the reaction of the goat head.
"They also said a lot of weird things about subspace. How much do you know about these cultists?"
"I would like to suggest that you don't take too much of their crazy preaching," the goat head said immediately. "Just frequently calling the name of subspace may attract dangerous attention, not to mention the kind of people who follow subspace.
Dealing with crazy people in space? Of course, a great being like you may not be affected by them, but it is not a good thing to hear too much."
…
Then it paused and continued: "Let me tell you, I don't know much about those lunatics, and not many people in this world know about them. After all, preachers should be regarded as the weirdest among all kinds of cults."
They are a group of guys, they are good at being elusive, their thinking is fragmented, and unlike ordinary cultists, they have a large number of low-level rabble - their number is much smaller, and there is no one with whom they can communicate normally."
The goat head talked nonchalantly, and the further he went on, the more nonsense he talked about. But even in the midst of this endless nonsense, Duncan still heard some key information.
According to Goat Head, the number of Final Evangelists is far less than the other two cult forces that are also a major threat to civilization (i.e. Sun Followers and Annihilation Cults). Judging from current records and activity trajectories, their number may only be in the thousands.
people, maybe even fewer.
In general cult forces, there are a large number of ordinary people who serve as "low-level believers". These rabble-rousers have little power and have normal social lives.
Apart from being corrupted, they are basically the same as ordinary people, but the ultimate preachers do not have such an underlying structure - as long as they appear, they must be "priests" with powerful power.
No one knows how a cult group operates and maintains to this day with such a lack of underlying support, just like no one knows the specific process of the transformation of Sun Cultists and Annihilation Cultists among ordinary people.
In addition, although missionaries have the word "preach" in their names, in fact they seem to have almost no successful cases of "preaching" - their reason has long evaporated, and their language and logic are different from ordinary people, although they only need to
When they show up, they will always recite some "truths" related to subspace, but no sane person will listen to their deceptions, and people with weak wills have already been deceived by subspace before they are deceived.
Space pollution has become a monster.
In other words, it is theoretically impossible for missionaries to increase their number through "preaching".
Finally, the preacher disappeared, very elusive.
Duncan has experienced this personally.
The goat head said that he didn't know much about the final preacher, but the information he told was quite a bit.
"A group of preachers who are so insane that they can no longer 'preach'?" Duncan touched his chin and muttered thoughtfully.
"Then where did the original Evangelist of the End come from?"
"Then who knows?" The neck of the goat's head creaked and shook.
"Perhaps it grew directly from the subspace."
Duncan didn't pay attention to the goat head, which was obviously a nonsense "subspace joke", and he also didn't mention his "non-linear conjecture" about the preacher of the end to the other party.
He was just thinking, if he, the first person to come into contact with the Evangelist of the End, could come up with such a conjecture, then what would those guardians and bishops in human city-states who have long been fighting against heretics know about the group of subspace believers?
What? Will they have a more complete theory to explain the weirdness of those crazy people?
"Captain, you seem to be very dissatisfied with those final missionaries?"
…
In the silence, the goat-headed voice suddenly broke the silence in the room. "It's rare to see you showing such a serious expression."
Duncan raised his head and glanced at the goat's head quietly.
"You said, if a city-state's history is polluted, can it still be saved?"
He said suddenly.
Frankly and casually, as if he was just discussing an ordinary "academic conjecture" in his spare time.
The goat head was stunned for a moment (although its stiff face was originally expressionless), and it took two or three seconds to respond: "Historical pollution? Oh, this is a high-end topic, and it sounds like it can only be done in subspace.
matter."
"What can only happen in subspace?" Duncan raised his eyebrows, "Why do you say that?"
"Aside from subspace, which is a dangerous thing with its own time and space and chaotic cause and effect, what else can casually pollute the history of a city-state?" Goat Head said casually.
"There is nothing with such power in the world. It's not impossible to say that it doesn't exist. In terms of power alone, there may be one that is qualified, but that thing is hanging in the sky."
Listening to the goat-headed chatter, Duncan's heart skipped a beat.
Is the space, time and causality of the subspace itself chaotic?
This was the first time he heard such clear and direct information related to subspace.
Along with this piece of information, what emerged in his mind was what he recalled saying to himself by the Frost Queen in that illusion - please don't pollute history.
He frowned, temporarily suppressed the complicated thoughts in his heart, and set his eyes on the goat's head again. The latter immediately noticed the captain's gaze, stopped talking, and quickly responded: "Ah, no wonder you
Suddenly those final preachers. Could it be that they"
"They probably did a big job," Duncan said quietly, "which makes me a little irritated."
He stared quietly into the goat's head's eyes, and the goat's head also looked at it expressionlessly.
Looking at him, they seemed to be observing each other, but there didn't seem to be any additional communication.
"The city-state has its own guardians, and the group of fire preachers are keeping an eye on the context of history," the goat head said, "Anyway, no matter how much trouble those gang of final preachers do, they can't threaten you, even if they can
Even if they pollute history, they can’t pollute you and the Lost Home.”
Duncan raised his eyebrows: "Can't it contaminate me and the Lost Home?"
".We are returning from subspace, Captain" the goat head said slowly.
"Everything in the world can be contaminated - except subspace, and we have been in subspace for long enough."
Duncan frowned, and for some reason some of the crazy words that the preacher of the End had said suddenly appeared in his mind.
After a moment of silence, he couldn't help but mutter softly: "The Promised Ark"
(Book recommendation time! The title of the book is "I Stand Under Billions of Lives", and the author's name is: Chen Laite. In fact, this book was published once before. Unfortunately, it was reported as autistic for a period of time. Now the content has been renovated and reborn.
The content is an interesting story about a mentally ill boy who refused to work overtime for free and ran away from home, in a magical world. If you are interested, you can check it out.)