Aiden jumped down from the high platform and came to his captain. After noticing that the captain's expression was particularly solemn, his expression immediately became serious.
"Captain, what happened?"
"I can't refuse an invitation," Tirian looked around, then sighed, "I may have to leave here tomorrow or the day after tomorrow."
Aiden's eyes suddenly widened: "A message was sent to the island? Just now? And...how can there be an invitation that you can't refuse on this cold sea?"
Tirian sighed again: "...It's my father."
Aiden blinked and held it in for a long time: "...how long will you be gone for approximately?"
"We should be back soon, in a day or two," Tirian said, not paying attention to the subtle change in the first officer's tone. He had many thoughts in his mind right now, and he really didn't have the extra energy to say anything else. "There will be a messenger coming to the port area."
, pick me up and take me to the Lost Home. Don’t announce this to the public for the time being. You can coordinate everything while I ‘disappear’.”
Aiden immediately bowed his head and accepted the order: "Yes, Captain."
Then the first mate paused for two seconds, seemingly hesitant, then couldn't help but look around, came closer and muttered to Tirian: "Is he...is he nearby?"
Tirian thought for a moment and patted Aiden on the shoulder: "The Lost Home is hidden in the fog around us."
Visibly to the naked eye, he could see the muscles on Aiden's body tightening little by little.
"...Captain, after so many years of not breathing, I finally feel the meaning of 'cold' again today," First Mate Aiden's voice was obviously cautious, "Can you confirm that the old captain... is just here to meet you?"
?”
"I don't know, and I don't want to know, but my intuition tells me that this journey should be safe," Tirian said in a low voice, then looked back in the direction of the square, looking at those who still refused to leave and were preparing to party until the day
The sailors who came out turned to look at the first mate again, "But other sailors may not think so, you know what I mean."
Listening to the captain's solemn words, Aiden nodded slowly.
He knew what his captain was worried about.
The Sea Mist Fleet is huge, and except for a few ordinary people who are bribed or hired by contract as peripheral members, most of the members of this fleet are "undead" like themselves, and these undead sailors strictly
In fact, it can be divided into two groups——
Most of them are former members of the Frost Navy. These soldiers who were loyal to the Frost Queen were originally ordinary people. It was after the Frost Rebellion that these loyalists who still insisted on staying in the team were gradually transformed.
became what it is now.
In half a century of endless battles and constant confrontations with the rebels, death and the cursed power of the Sea Mist itself gradually turned them into today's "immortal sailors" and became the Sea Mist Fleet.
a part of.
The other small group of sailors are the real "original backbone" of "Iron Vice Admiral" Tirian: they are members of the fleet that once lost their homeland.
Duncan Abnomar is their "old captain". They have witnessed the transformation and fall of the Lost Home with their own eyes, and have personally experienced the ups and downs of this century. They once followed Tirian to serve Frost, and watched Frost.
Upturned in the upheaval - these sailors who have been loyal for a century are called "First Issue", while those who have been loyal for half a century are called "Second Issue".
Aiden himself, as well as the half-assed old pastor "Will" whose head was completely flattened, are all considered members of the "first period".
A century of experience has allowed Aiden to see many things hidden beneath the surface.
The Lost Home and "Captain Duncan" have different meanings in the eyes of the two groups of sailors. When the same news is put in front of them, the reactions triggered are complex and uncontrollable.
But now even Captain Tirian himself is not sure what the real status of the Homeless Ship and the "Old Captain" is, let alone whether this status is really stable for a long time.
Therefore, until things become clear and the situation is controllable, the news that the captain is heading to the Lost Home cannot be released - otherwise the island will definitely become a mess.
At this moment, Tirian's voice came again, interrupting Aiden's thinking: "...send the dancers back to Cold Harbor early tomorrow morning."
"Send them back tomorrow?" Aiden didn't know why the captain suddenly mentioned this, "Are you dissatisfied with them?"
"The Homeless Ship is nearby. It's better not to let ordinary people get close to this island recently," Tirian shook his head and found an excuse at random. After all, he was too embarrassed to say the reason "his father was shocked" no matter how hard he thought about it.
Then he paused and added, "But what you said later reminded me that if you just send it back directly, that mean Scimitar Martin might scold those girls... I'll write a letter later.
, you give it to the dancer’s foreman.”
Aiden immediately lowered his head: "Yes, Captain."
"Well," Tirian nodded, and then seemed to remember something, "By the way, when I came here just now, I saw a dancer stop and say something to you. Seeing your helpless look...she
What did I say to you?"
Aiden was a little embarrassed for a moment: "She said my hair style is very sexy..."
Tirian silently looked at the first mate's shiny head.
"...The dancers in Lenggang are indeed passionate and unrestrained - their personalities are very passionate and their aesthetics are quite unrestrained."
…
Darkness, loneliness, coldness, silence.
The endless desolate wilderness stretches as far as the eye can see in the darkness. There are no vegetation or animals in the wilderness. Only jagged rocks and strange ruins that have been weathered and decayed for countless years can be seen. They are crumbling and falling, eternally silent in the desolate atmosphere.
There are also strange phantom lights that flash across the sky from time to time, floating in the darkness, occasionally illuminating the wilderness, and occasionally casting mottled and twisted shadows on the earth.
A hollow shadow trudged across the wilderness.
He didn't know how long he had been trekking, nor did he know his name when he set out. He only remembered that he seemed to have set off a long, long time ago, and the superficial impression left at that time told him that he should have reached the end point long ago.
It's time to rest somewhere peaceful.
What delayed my journey? So that I could only keep trekking in this wilderness?
This hazy and empty black figure was thinking, but soon this intermittent thought was swallowed up by a larger hole, leaving him to only continue to move forward according to instinct.
But suddenly, he staggered.
Did you seem to trip over something? Or was hit by something invisible?
The empty black shadow looked down at himself, and saw that some colors seemed to appear on his hazy body.
He raised his head and continued walking forward.
More colors emerged on his body, and more solid details appeared on his originally illusory and undulating mist-like body surface.
A piece of clothing appeared on this humanoid black mist, which was a voyager's uniform.
He gradually gained a face, it was a middle-aged man with black hair.
His steps gradually became steady and light, and the rugged gravel beneath his feet became much smoother at some point.
More and more memories begin to surface in the depths of this soul.
First the name, then the moment of death, then the sunny youth, the tender and vague memories of childhood, and the fleeting glimpses of the warmth of infancy.
He trekked towards the end of the wilderness, and in the darkness, shadows of various sizes appeared from time to time and merged with him silently.
It seemed that the individuals that had been torn and separated from him were now returning to their correct positions one by one.
Suddenly, this figure stopped at the end of the road.
Christo Barberi raised his head in astonishment and saw that he had walked onto an avenue at some point. On both sides of the avenue were ancient stone pillars standing silently, and at the end of the road, there was an extremely tall, majestic building with simple and complicated patterns.
The gate is standing out of thin air.
The door was open, but the interior was always hazy, and it was impossible to see the slightest detail on the other side of the door.
There is only a strong impulse emerging from the heart of this soul - to pass through that door and to rest on the other side of that door.
The middle-aged man in the captain's uniform subconsciously walked forward. There was no one around him, but he seemed to feel that there were countless souls walking on this road at the same time, heading there.
A door - there are dead people walking on the road every minute in this world, but in front of this lonely door of life and death, souls can't seem to see each other.
However, just when he was about to touch the door, Christo stopped.
A tall figure suddenly appeared in front of the door, blocking his way.
It was a watcher covered in bandages, wearing a gloomy and complicated robe, with a hood on his head, and holding a long staff in his hand.
He's the gatekeeper here.
Christo looked at this "giant" who was almost three meters tall with some fear. The memories of his time as a living person came up, allowing him to regain the ability to talk to people: "Are you... the master of death?"
"No," the gatekeeper said, a hoarse and deep voice coming from under the bandage, "I am just His messenger."
Christo's tone was a little sad: "I'm not qualified to cross this door, right?"
He recalled more things.
Include details of your own death.
However, the majestic gatekeeper just lowered his head and looked at the soul at the door quietly for a moment, then moved slightly to the side: "Please come in, your debt has been cleared."