Chapter 313 An Invitation From the Old Man

No one understood the boundary between life and death better than Tiriac and his undead sailors.

The God of Death, Bartok, had a door used to anchor the boundary between life and death. In short, as long as a living soul passed through that door, it arrived in the world of the dead, and that door was one-way—in other words, as long as one had not passed through that door, then whether it was a brief corpse awakening or a continuous undead curse, it could not be considered a true "resurrection."

"Many people in the world confuse 'undead' with 'the dead,' and even think that the former are taking advantage of the loopholes in the door of the god of death," Tiriac turned his head, looking at the noisy sailors on the square, and said calmly, "But in fact, they are only rejected by that door due to soul pollution, and thus stuck on the border between life and death. If we follow the strict conceptual division of the Church of Death, 'undead' actually belong to the world of the living."

Duncan didn't speak for a while, but recalled his experience in that cemetery.

Waking up in a coffin, being called a "restless one" by the cemetery keeper; a group of Annihilation Cultists coming to steal the corpse, seemingly expecting the corpse to move; the shell suddenly disintegrating on its own, as if "reaching some kind of limit"...

"Frost might not have seen a true resurrection of the dead, but most likely someone really witnessed the dead appearing in the city, and these events are very likely related to a group of Annihilation Cultists," Duncan said unhurriedly after pondering for a while, "It's just hard to say how many of them have infiltrated, and it's hard to say what they want to do."

"Annihilation Cultists?" Tiriac was taken aback. He didn't expect that this matter would suddenly involve cultists. "How are you sure it's related to them?"

"They tried to take a corpse from the city-state's cemetery, and they seemed well-prepared, even anticipating that the corpse would move—although the final actual situation was a little different from what they expected."

Tiriac listened in a daze, and then looked at his father with some suspicion: "How...how do you know this information? And in such detail..."

"That corpse was me."

Tiriac: "...Huh?"

"Just an evening stroll, happened to run into corpse thieves," Duncan didn't explain in detail. "That's not important. What's important is whether these 'return of the dead' events are related to the 'Deep Sea' beneath Frost."

"Return of the dead and the 'Deep Sea'?" Tiriac frowned. He had never associated these two things together before. Hearing his father suddenly mention it at this time, he couldn't help but feel a little puzzled. "Why do you say that? What's the connection between these two things..."

"It's very simple. The shell I 'temporarily used' showed a strange disintegration phenomenon at the end. The state presented during the disintegration was very similar to the 'copies' that appeared in the Submersible Project as you described."

"The state of disintegration?" Tiriac's tone was surprised, followed by doubt. "But...the copies of the Submersible Project came from the seabed one thousand meters below. How could the dead in the city-state have anything to do with that..." He stopped, his expression becoming complicated and solemn. After a moment, he raised his head: "Could it be that the power of that kind of 'copying' has spread in the city-state, and the cultists you mentioned are the promoters? But there shouldn't be any connection between the Annihilation Cultists and the Deep Sea..."

Listening to Tiriac's muttering, Duncan suddenly thought of something else.

Deep in the Black Obsidian, in the mouth of "Captain Kristo," that small piece of flesh containing the aura of the Abyss Saint!

If that ghost ship really came from the deep sea beneath Frost, if that Captain Kristo (regardless of whether he was a copy or the original) had really been in contact with the Abyss Saint...then the Annihilation Cultists in the city-state were connected to the Deep Sea!

Tiriac looked curiously at the figure in the ice: "Father, what are you thinking about?"

"How much do you know about the Abyss Saint? What about the Annihilation Cultists?" Duncan suddenly raised his head and asked, "How much have you dealt with them?"

"I haven't dealt with them much—although the Annihilation Cultists are not as elusive as the Doomsday Evangelists, they are also a low-key and secretive group. They are obsessed with studying demonic knowledge and 'purifying' themselves through demonic knowledge, and they generally don't have any dealings with outsiders."

Tiriac shook his head, and then continued: "As for the Abyss Saint...I heard that His status is equal to that of a god, but He doesn't have the authority of a god. In a few descriptions, He is a huge piece of flesh crawling in the deepest part of the Abyss, guarding a great rift leading to the subspace with countless tentacles, but there is also a saying that He is actually stuck on that rift, and some great power sealed Him there...

"Information in this area has always been vague and bizarre. After all, mortals in the mortal world have almost no means to observe the situation in the Abyss, so all research in this area is based on indirect observation of the spiritual projection and soul torture of certain Annihilation Cultists."

Speaking of this, Tiriac couldn't help but ask curiously: "Why did you suddenly ask about the Abyss Saint?"

"Deep in the Black Obsidian, I found a small piece of flesh that most likely came from the Abyss Saint."

Tiriac: "...?"

The number of times he was shocked tonight had obviously exceeded that of the old man who had just watched twelve Bardican dancers dancing on stage.

"I know you don't believe it, but it's true," Duncan could of course see the disbelief on Tiriac's face. "I have an Abyssal demon here who can help identify it."

Tiriac's tone was still a little dazed: "An Abyssal demon? Help identify it?"

"An Abyssal Hound—you've seen it," Duncan said casually, "Although you only saw it for a moment at the time."

Tiriac was stunned for a moment, as if he remembered something, and immediately reached out and touched his forehead.

Duncan nodded: "Yes, that's it."

Tiriac didn't know what to say.

Duncan raised his eyes, looking past Tiriac's shoulder towards the square.

After a few rounds of dancing, even the dancers who had taken potions in advance should rest.

"The conversation should end," Duncan said suddenly. "This matter seems to be more complicated than you and I thought. It is difficult to draw any conclusions by discussing it across a mirror like this." "You mean..."

"I will send a messenger over. The messenger will take you to the Ghost Ship. Here, we can talk about some things more conveniently, and you can see with your own eyes what I brought out from the depths of the Black Obsidian."

Go to the Ghost Ship?!

Despite this being a peaceful invitation, Tiriac couldn't help but feel a chill and tension instantly.

He tried his best to control the change in his expression, but the momentary reaction in his eyes still fell into Duncan's eyes.

"If you are unwilling, I can also go directly," the voice in the ice said lightly, "But this requires you to first prepare with your subordinates."

Tiriac looked a little tense.

Should he go to the Ghost Ship, or let the Ghost Ship sail into the Sea Mist Fleet's base?

Either option seemed to be a challenge to his life's achievements.

But after a brief weighing, he made a decision with reason.

"Send a messenger, it's more convenient for me to go."

Tiriac looked at his father in the ice calmly.

Reason told him that his father had really regained his humanity, so even the Ghost Ship returning from subspace...was theoretically not a dangerous place.

What was there to be afraid of?

He only needed to make some psychological preparations, but if the Ghost Ship sailed directly into the home port, then it wouldn't just be him who needed to make psychological preparations.

He only needed to fight against a little bit of instinctual tension.

"That's good," Duncan nodded, seemingly satisfied with Tiriac's answer. Then he took a half step back slightly, and his figure quickly dimmed and blurred in the ice. "Then I'll leave first. I still have some things to do. I'll notify you before the messenger leaves."

Tiriac bowed slightly in front of the ice that was gradually returning to normal. Only when the last trace of green flame disappeared did he straighten up again.

Then he calmed himself and turned to walk towards the square.

In the square, the noise of the second half of the night had not stopped. The undead sailors were either eating and drinking, or talking and laughing freely. There were also some rude people closer to the stage who were trying to whistle at the dancers on stage—but could only make funny sounds because of air leaking from their mouths or throats.

On the stage, the dancers had finished their performance. Under the command of the foreman, they stood in a row, seemingly waiting for the next disbandment order. The cold wind blew through the gap between the bonfire and the windshield. Several of the girls seemed to be shaking a little, and in their numb and dull eyes, agile expressions gradually began to appear.

The effect of the alchemical potion was about to end, and normal emotions would return to their minds.

Two of the girls gradually showed a little curiosity on their faces, but more of them gradually showed fear in their eyes.

A square full of strange-looking undead—even if they had made psychological preparations in advance, this was not a scene that ordinary people could withstand.

First Mate Aiden ran out. He had been paying attention to the movements on the stage, and at this time he came directly to the highest point in the square, and shouted loudly at the sailors who were still noisy with his broken gong voice: "Disperse! No more dancing! Those with the scariest appearances, cover your faces! Those with missing arms and legs, crawl under the tables! The girls are leaving—clear the path next to the stage...Whelan! You get under the table! I'll be scared out of my wits just by seeing your face!"

So the sailors in the square responded with a bang, covering their faces and hiding, noisy and giggling. The dance foreman on the stage first looked at this scene a little at a loss, and then reacted, saluted Aiden hastily and awkwardly, and quickly led the girls off the stage.

Those girls with nervous and fearful expressions tried to hide themselves behind others, walking quickly towards the temporary residence arranged for them.

There were also two very daring girls who deliberately stopped, blinking their eyes curiously at the undead in the square.

A girl raised her head when she passed Aiden, and smiled and didn't know what she said. The first mate was so embarrassed that he almost fell from the high platform.

The dancers from Cold Harbor left.

Aiden also finally noticed Tiriac who had come to the square.

(End of this chapter)

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