Chapter 1 The Atmosphere on Deck

The atmosphere on deck became instantly awkward, an unspeakable silence enveloping Vanna and Tyrian. The latter's face was still etched with shock, while the former had already covered her forehead with her hand.

The silence was eventually broken by a voice from not far away. A few meters away, Sherry nudged Nina with her elbow. "See, I told you the first sentence would be this – you owe me two scoops of ice cream."

"Alright, alright, you guessed it," Nina grumbled. "Two it is… I'll get them for you when we get to Frostwind."

Sherry immediately widened her eyes. "Do you think I'm stupid? Eating ice cream when it's dozens of degrees below zero? We'll talk about it when we get back to Pland!"

Tyrian blinked, only now noticing the others on deck, and the atmosphere here, which was subtly different from what he had imagined. He first saw the girl named Sherry, whom he had met once, and then the abyssal hound lazily sunbathing at her feet, whom he had only known as a head. Next to her was another girl who looked about sixteen or seventeen years old, and a gray-haired, refined-looking old gentleman.

Everyone was smiling.

Behind these people was the deck of the Vanishing, its舷, masts, and sails.

Those yellowed and fragmented scenes from his childhood, the memories of him and his sister playing around, all the pleasant and unpleasant impressions, seemed to be emerging little by little from some dim and lost cave, and gradually regaining their color in the sunlight that shone through the mist.

There were some new faces here, but this was still the ship he remembered—not the gloomy, dilapidated, and chaotically twisted ghost ship he had imagined in his previous life.

At least, the deck looked as familiar as ever.

Sherry frowned.

Expressionlessly watching Ah-Gou running around on the deck, watching Nina and Ah-Gou trying to help but failing, eventually turning into a scene of one person and one dog being chased around the deck by a bucket of vegetables, she turned back and patted Tyrian on the shoulder.

His father did not like other people's suggestions. In his memory, he was a dictatorial and stubborn man.

After he came of age, his father's captain's cabin was a place where one had to remain serious. Even after they each became captains of the Sea Mist and the Brilliant Star, Tyrian and Lucretia would still instinctively tense up when stepping in here—his father formulated all the grand exploration plans here, marking the newly discovered islands and anomalies of the Vanishing Fleet on the charts, and completing the planning and scheduling of the entire fleet here. Most of the time, he and his sister were only responsible for listening and executing orders.

Returning to the Vanishing again, everything seemed to deviate from the trajectory and expectations from the very beginning.

"Need any help?"

"But she should be busy in the kitchen right now," Sherry nodded. "Alice is in charge of the ship's food. You can taste her cooking today—we have fresh vegetables and freshly caught fish, which are rare on ocean-going ships."

In the next second, his gaze fell on the edge of this nautical table, on this dark and strange goat head.

Tyrian's expression seemed a little stiff. Even the pirate leader who commanded an entire undead fleet seemed to be unable to keep up with the daily rhythm of the Vanishing.

In his childhood, his father's captain's cabin was a mysterious and slightly frightening room. He and Lucretia played around in most places on the ship, but they were strictly forbidden from stepping into this place. Even the most talkative sailors on the ship would ruthlessly block the two siblings at the door.

"I accept your apology—let's talk as we walk," Sherry waved her hand and walked towards the stern of the deck. "About the reason why the Inquisitor is here, and the Obsidian, and Dagger Isle—we have many things to discuss."

Tyrian knew that he was daydreaming, and he knew that he should say something at this time, but he couldn't stop the thoughts in his heart from spreading. He knew that he had this problem of daydreaming since he was a child, and every time he daydreamed on the deck, his father would always come from somewhere, scolding him from behind—

Tyrian paused, then remembered that this was the name of that doll lady – he always thought her name was "Rei Nora": "Ah, yes, is she on the ship?"

"

Food..." Tyrian subconsciously repeated the word, almost blurting out the phrase "Father even eats human food," but in the next second, a series of exclamations and hurried footsteps suddenly came from not far away, interrupting his trance.

In all his childhood and adulthood memories, this was the place that impressed him the most on the entire ship.

"First Mate?" Tyrian blinked, then turned to look at the strange "wood carving." Enduring the strangeness in his heart, he accepted his father's statement and tentatively greeted the other party, "Hello, Goat Head... sir?"

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but he felt that Tyrian's state at this moment was very subtle, very different from the impression he had left on him in previous contacts, but vaguely carrying a bit of familiarity. But soon, he felt relieved.

Tyrian followed Sherry somewhat confusedly, walking towards the captain's cabin in his memory, while Duncan walked silently on the other side.

"It's because of the bucket – it has its own opinions on storing vegetables, so it often has ideological conflicts with Alice."

Sherry was not surprised by this. She just patted Tyrian on the shoulder. "You have to learn to adapt—if I go to help every time Alice cries for help, then I won't have to do anything every day. The fact is, her adaptability and vitality are actually quite tenacious."

The dark goat head with a wooden texture turned creakingly, its pair of empty and deep obsidian eyes staring fixedly at the visitor who stepped into this place.

Sherry certainly noticed this little action of his: "Are you looking for Alice?"

"But I see she seems to be asking you for help..."

"Tyrian turned his head blankly, his mouth twitching twice, "Is the food on the ship a little too fresh?"

Tyrian wanted to say something more, but the captain's cabin was reached.

"I didn't take down the church—watch your thinking, Tyrian," Duncan interrupted immediately, knowing what the other party was thinking before he could even open his mouth. "Do I need to emphasize it again? I am not an enemy of the civilized world now. You should face me more calmly, instead of being wary of a natural disaster that will wreak havoc at any time."

The door opened, and the slightly dim interior environment compared to the deck came into Tyrian's eyes.

"Sorry, Father," Tyrian opened his mouth subconsciously, "I was a little distracted."

Not the phantom that appeared in the mirror, not the vague outline seen across the distant sea and artillery fire, but standing face to face. At the same time, Vanna, who had been silent for half a day due to the awkwardness, finally spoke: "Captain Tyrian, it is necessary to explain my identity here—first of all, the situation is not what you think. I came to the Vanishing under the assignment of the church..."

Then he turned back and waved to a few onlookers not far away: "Irrelevant people, go and do your own thing. Don't join in the fun here."

Tyrian looked over in shock, and saw the gothic doll running past the deck not far away, shouting and screaming, holding a kitchen knife in her hand. Behind her was a wooden bucket hopping and jumping, filled with carrots and greens.

The pirate captain visibly shuddered. The momentary confusion of memory and reality even caused his thinking to crash for two or three seconds. Then he turned around hesitantly and saw a tall and majestic figure standing in front of him.

"Church assigned?" Tyrian was even more confused than before, and then he suddenly turned to look at his father, "You..."

Tyrian was taken aback and turned his head subconsciously, "This is..."

Tyrian glanced at Vanna in astonishment.

Tyrian: "I... Sorry."

"When talking to it, be sure to be familiar with the operation of interrupting in advance so that it does not open its mouth and speak recklessly. This is my advice."/

"Hello, nice to meet you, Mr. Tyrian."

The goat head shook its neck, seeming to prepare to say something, but in the next second, Sherry skillfully interrupted in advance: "Shut up, keep quiet while we are talking."

Tyrian subconsciously looked around, observing the situation on the ship, looking for things that matched his memories, and also looking for a figure who should theoretically be here.

The scenes in his memory and the scenes he saw before him merged and separated, sometimes overlapping, and sometimes giving rise to distinct disharmony.

That can make the late "Captain Sherry" so serious and cautious, this goat head seems to be as strange and dangerous as its appearance.

"This is the current First Mate on the Vanishing, someone you can trust," Sherry introduced. "You can just call it Goat Head."

Of course, Tyrian regarded the goat head as some kind of extremely dangerous "normal," and making it shut up was obviously the sealing requirement for the dangerous item…

"Tyrian, what are you daydreaming about here?"

Listening to his father's warning, the expression on Tyrian's face quickly became serious.

After all, this was the first face-to-face conversation after a hundred years of separation, and it was also the first time returning to this ship. It was normal for the other party to have this reaction.