Chapter 1 The Impact

Duncan really needed a few seconds to process what A Gou was saying—not that he didn't understand the words, but he needed time to digest the shocking information.

"Are you sure?" He picked up the small, gray-black chunk of flesh with subtle blue tinges from the iron box and pinched it. "This is a part of the Sacred Lord of the Depths?"

"You... you're pinching it?!" A Gou's voice changed as he watched Duncan's overly "casual" behavior. "Don't you feel the immense pressure and power it's emitting?"

"No," Duncan said, shaking his head, then added, "And not only do I not feel it, Vanna and Morris don't have much of a reaction either—they just think it's a bit dangerous or unsettling, but nothing like your reaction."

Hearing Duncan's words, A Gou had already lowered himself to the ground, lying prone next to the table in a state of full alert, the crimson light in his eyes flickering on and off. After a long while, he muttered, "It seems to have lost its vitality… or its vitality has been suppressed by you, but I can't tell. I am a Deep Sea Demon, and I have an inseparable connection with the Sacred Lord of the Depths. In my eyes… there is only endless shadow and pressure."

"It's probably related to your constitution," Duncan said, closing the tobacco tin and casually stuffing it into his pocket. He noticed that A Gou visibly relaxed as he did so. "I'll put it away first; it might make you feel better."

"Th-thank you, Captain," A Gou finally trembled a little less. He stood up unsteadily, still looking at Duncan's pocket with lingering fear. "You said… this flesh came from the deepest part of the Obsidian?"

"Yes, and from the mouth of a mortal," Duncan sighed softly and recounted what had happened after A Gou and Shirley were sent back to the *Lost Country*. "... We found this flesh sample in Kristoff Barelli's mouth."

After hearing the full story, A Gou's astonishment was palpable.

He looked up and exchanged a glance with Shirley, and then remained silent for half a minute. After what seemed like an eternity, Shirley smacked her lips and broke the silence, "You mean… that captain named Kristoff… bit off a piece of flesh from a god before he died…"

"...Is the Sacred Lord of the Depths considered a god?"

"To mortals, there is no difference. 'Godlike' is a very broad concept," A Gou said solemnly, slowly shaking his head. "I… I still can't believe it. I can't imagine how he did it—mortals have no strength to even move a finger in front of the Sacred Lord of the Depths, let alone fight back… and how did he even see the Sacred Lord of the Depths?"

"Did the Obsidian enter the Deep Sea of the Depths?" Duncan frowned. "After it sank in the Frost Outer Seas, it didn't continuously sink in the real dimension, but was teleported away? Or… does the deep sea of Frost actually lead to the domain of the Deep Sea Demons?"

"I don't think that's possible," A Gou immediately shook his head. "I've never heard of any place in the Deep Sea of the Depths that is directly connected to the real dimension, and if there really was a leak between the two places, the Frost Kingdom would have been torn apart by the demons that poured out six years ago—the Obsidian sank six years ago."

Duncan pondered briefly.

But the information he had was too limited, and no matter how much he thought and speculated, it was difficult to find a reasonable explanation.

One thing was certain: the "flesh" from the Obsidian was a very dangerous thing, and it was best not to take it out casually.

Of course, he had also considered whether to burn the flesh directly or fire it out of the *Lost Country's* main gun.

Based on the feedback he felt after touching the flesh, Duncan believed that it could also be burned as "transcendent fuel" by the spiritual fire, but after a brief weighing of the options, he decided to keep it for now.

What if it came in handy in the future?

Lost in thought, Duncan's attention turned back to A Gou.

The Deep Sea Hound had calmed down a bit, consciously avoiding focusing on the location of the "Sacred Lord's flesh," and now looked much better.

"Are other Deep Sea Demons like you?"

"Huh?" A Gou didn't react for a moment. "You mean…"

"Deep Sea Demons all come from the Sacred Lord—you once told me that the habitats of powerful Deep Sea Demons like you are even next to the 'Sacred Lord'," Duncan said, staring into A Gou's crimson eyes. "But you reacted like this when you got close to the aura of the Sacred Lord of the Depths—how do you usually live next to the Sacred Lord then?

Just trembling every day?"

A Gou was obviously stunned, probably not expecting the captain's imagination to be so advanced and specific, but after a moment of silence, he shook his head and said frankly, "Normal Deep Sea Demons… wouldn't have my reaction."

"Hmm?"

"Reason is the prerequisite for madness," A Gou sighed. "Only those with wisdom know fear, and only those with humanity can distinguish beastliness—I have deviated from the 'trajectory' of normal Deep Sea Demons, and have therefore lost the qualification to approach the Sacred Lord of the Depths."

Shirley blinked, suddenly realizing, "A Gou, did you just say something very philosophical?!"

"Reason is the prerequisite for madness…" Duncan ignored Shirley's fuss and muttered thoughtfully, "So, you can't return to your 'hometown' now, but you can't sever your connection with the Sacred Lord of the Depths. You can no longer approach the aura of the Sacred Lord, but you are extremely sensitive to this aura?"

A Gou sighed, holding his head. "Pretty much."

"That's rough."

A Gou's voice sounded like he was about to cry. "Normally, no one would suddenly hold a piece of the Sacred Lord's flesh and pinch it in front of me… this is the safe and stable real dimension!"

"That was my fault," Duncan apologized sincerely. "I didn't think of that before."

"No, no, no, please don't apologize to me!" A Gou was immediately startled and scurried under the table. "Your casual apology might get me entangled with the subspace again…"

"…Okay," Duncan said blankly, a strange smile appearing on his face. Then he shook his head and turned to leave. "Then I won't bother you anymore; you can continue reading."

Shirley quickly got up to see him off, but Duncan suddenly stopped and turned to look at her.

"You should learn from A Gou. He can even read elementary school primers now, and you still spell your own name wrong three times out of five. Aren't you embarrassed?"

Shirley said righteously, "A Gou is a demon who pursues knowledge! It's normal for him to have a strong learning ability! How can I compare to him?"

"First of all, that's not how you use the words 'pursues knowledge', and secondly, even if A Gou is a demon who pursues knowledge—don't spend all day avoiding knowledge," Duncan said helplessly. "I'll have to arrange an exam for you two in a couple of days. I want to see how much you've actually learned."

With that, he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

After waiting a few seconds at the door, Shirley's wails and curses rang out as expected.

A pleasant smile appeared on Duncan's face.

He started walking towards the captain's cabin.

Night deepened.

In the Sea Fog Fleet's hidden homeport, which was blocked and concealed by mist, ice floes, and strange currents, Tirian was slowly walking along a small path on the edge of the port area.

The cold night wind came from the sea, and the sound of waves lapping against the shore rose and fell. The cold, dark glow of the World Scar bathed the entire island, and in the distance, the noisy sounds of the port's plaza could be faintly heard.

Sailors were gathering, using wine, tobacco, and noisy instruments to dispel the emptiness left by the dead in the world, and spending their cold, endless energy in all-night revelry—but for Tirian, such gatherings were too boisterous.

It was not conducive to calm thinking.

Another footstep followed behind him.

It was his loyal first mate, Aiden—he still smelled like bacon, and had added hints of cinnamon and cloves.

The scent made Tirian sigh: the Pland people really had a lot of tricks in the tobacco field.

"You can go to the gathering in the plaza," Tirian suddenly said. "There's no need to accompany me on a walk in this desolate place."

"I'm waiting for the second half of the night," Aiden said. "They've hired twelve Bardika dancers from Cold Harbor—they're really something."

"Captain?"

"In this cold weather, going to dance on a pirate island occupied by the living dead, and in the second half of the night—tell me honestly, what kind of damned price did you offer?"

"It wasn't much, really," Aiden said, rubbing his shiny bald head and chuckling. "The Sea Raven happened to rescue 'Cutlass Martin's' ship when they went out on business last week. You know, Martin controls a quarter of the theaters and dance troupes in Cold Harbor…"

Tirian: "…"

The Sea Fog Fleet commander was silent in the night wind for a few seconds, then pinched the space between his eyebrows, and his expression returned to calm after a few seconds.

"Let's talk about the situation on Dagger Island."

"Okay, Captain."