Chapter 1 The Final Preparations

Pland, in the southeastern dock district, a beautiful white steam turbine ship was undergoing its final inspection.

After a long stay in port, the White Oak was finally ready to set sail once more. This time, it would carry numerous commissioned goods from the Pland city-state, traverse the Central Route and the Northern Line, heading north, passing through Cold Harbor, and finally reaching Frost.

This was not a short voyage, but for an exploration vessel specially modified and designed for rapid round trips across the ocean, this route, most of which lay within safe waters, posed no great challenge. A powerful steam core would ensure the ship's surging power, and the newly renovated shipboard chapel was sufficient to protect the safety of all crew members.

The sailors, both ashore and aboard, seemed quite relaxed.

In the White Oak's aft mechanical compartment, the chief engineer and assistant mechanic were supervising the sailors as they completed the final preparations for the steam core.

This immensely powerful machine was as large as a house, secured to the ship's main support structure by a sturdy steel frame. It consisted of three vertically arranged spherical containers and a series of complex pipes, valves, and linkages surrounding the containers. An iron catwalk was suspended halfway up the three containers, allowing sailors to inspect the steam core's operation and perform necessary maintenance.

At that moment, several sailors were busily working on the iron catwalk. They opened the heavy hatches of the spherical containers, removed the worn-out, dim metal rods inside, and secured several forearm-thick, nearly meter-long pale gold metal rods onto the slots inside the hatches, activating the mechanism to send these metal rods into the center of the containers.

These were catalytic mediums made of feijin (boiling gold), the source of the steam core's immense power and an important guarantee of the machine's stable operation. Like the priests' prayers and incense rituals far from the steam pipes, the feijin medium within the steam core could also, to some extent, resist the intrusion of certain forces, preventing the machine from suddenly "going mad" after prolonged operation.

The squeaking of pulleys and hinges echoed intermittently. Two sailors were being a little rough with their handling, and the burly, bald chief engineer immediately shouted, "Be careful! Don't break those feijin catalysts. They're as soft as breadsticks. If you break one, the captain will eat us alive!"

"If you're talking about the breadsticks baked by Chef Finley—then you should worry about the steam core's chutes and catches getting broken!" the sailor on the catwalk laughed, but while quipping, he still became more careful with his movements.

"Brought them all."

"Your house keys and your going-out amulet?"

His wife was silent for a moment, then sighed softly, "Your medicine."

After an unknown amount of time, she sighed softly, "Alright, be safe and come back soon—and don't run into any more weird things."

This was the letter that Laurence had received, delivered this afternoon by a messenger wreathed in green flames.

After a long silence, Laurence picked up the vial of medicine. Several seconds passed before he finally opened the small stopper.

…

"The captain will come," the chief engineer said, then paused, repeating as if to emphasize, "The captain will come—he hasn't retired yet."

"Your medicine, don't forget," his wife repeated.

"Bring a large prayer book, it'll be useful."

The intense taste spread through his mouth, and his wife's figure quietly dissipated in the sunlight.

Laurence didn't respond. He simply straightened his captain's uniform in front of the mirror, checked his meticulously combed hair, solemnly picked up the hat beside him, and breathed a sigh of relief after placing it on his head.

After finishing work for the day, Frost finally returned home before dusk. He pushed open the door, took off his coat, and the first thing he did upon entering the living room was to flop unceremoniously onto a chair, sighing deeply.

The sender of the letter was Brown Scott.

"Well, he wants to deal with these things," Frost said, waving his hand as he walked upstairs.

"That depends on whether the client and the church agree," the chief engineer shrugged. "Half of the White Oak's cargo holds are ordinary sealing chambers. A lot of what we're transporting this time are raw materials and semi-finished holy objects ordered by the church. These things are very sensitive. All the supplies delivered to the ship have to be on a list—the Gray Raven, last time, had some idiot who snuck a keg of mead on board, which caused the sealing chambers to loosen. Two shadows escaped and killed half the crew…"

Saying this, he sighed and shook his head, lamenting, "Making a living on the boundless sea is really not an easy thing."

"When we get to Heidi, I'll suggest the captain buy a batch of high-quality feijin catalysts there—the feijin there is as cheap as rocks," the assistant mechanic muttered. She was a woman who looked to be in her forties or fifties, with arms as strong as a man's, and her work clothes were stained with oil. "The Adventurers' Association's procurement channels are too shady."

"Let the lady rest a bit, the lady has been dealing with bizarre and outlandish nightmares and rambling sailors all day," Frost said, slumped in his chair, waving his hand weakly. "A ship had a mechanical failure on the boundless sea and was stranded on the outer sea for almost twice as long as planned. Several sailors were carried off the ship bound hand and foot—it was a disaster."

"Hopefully." Laurence sighed helplessly and turned away from the mirror.

His mother watched her son go downstairs quietly, then retracted her gaze and looked at the letters in front of her.

"Brought it all," Laurence said, bending down to pick up the large suitcase at the door and patting it. "And a few pages of handwritten prayers and holy candles from the cathedral."

"I know, so I'm just going to suggest it to the captain," the assistant mechanic waved her hand, then frowned slightly. "But speaking of which, the captain doesn't seem to be here yet—he's usually not late."

"...Currently heading to Mengzheng. There's not much scenery to see along the way, except for the large chunks of floating ice and the distant cold mist that are often visible on the sea..."

"I'm going out." Laurence responded softly, then, following the psychiatrist's instructions, dripped a few drops of the potion into his mouth.

He looked up at Martha, seeing his wife still leaning against the doorframe, looking at him with her arms crossed, just as he remembered.

His wife opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to say something, but Laurence turned around with a smile on his face, "I brought it all. I'm not so old that I'm forgetful."

"...Nina was doing her winter vacation homework in the restaurant today. A strange shadow ran out of her textbook. Everyone competed to beat it up. It was very..."

This letter, however, came from Heidi.

"Water bills, electricity bills, gas bills, all sorts of bills—a bunch of junk," his mother said casually, her tone indifferent. "Your father used to handle them all. Now that he's out, I'll take care of it."

His mother was sitting next to the warm fireplace, sorting through some letters. Hearing her daughter come home, she turned her head slightly. "You're a big girl now. Pay some attention to your image—a lady wouldn't do that."

On the small table by the door, a large brown glass bottle sat quietly. Sunlight shone on the bottle, and the clear texture of the liquid inside was faintly visible.

"Alright, you're right," Nina pouted, finally mustering the energy to get up from her chair. She walked towards the stairs, but suddenly stopped, curiously. "These letters are…"

The letter bore a common spell of the God of Wisdom, to prevent outsiders from seeing its true contents.

"...After lunch, the captain went fishing again. You know, for that kind of 'fish'—it struggled fiercely this time. It was a thrilling scene. The captain said that lively fish taste better, but I didn't taste the difference..."

The old woman smiled, put that letter aside for the moment, and picked up another newly opened letter.

Nina's lips trembled slightly, her gaze slowly shifting to the side.

"Do you have everything?"

Laurence's movements froze.

Most of them were indeed bills.

This old captain, who had spent half his life wandering the boundless sea, tidied up his belongings, sighed softly, picked up his suitcase, and left home.

The old woman looked at the familiar handwriting with a smile on her face. His mother looked up from the letter. "That sounds terrible. Then you can't just lie there like that. Go upstairs and take a bath to relax first. The bathwater is ready."

But there were also two real letters—one of which came from a place that the world could scarcely imagine.

His wife watched him quietly, without a word, without incessant complaints, only a long gaze, and silence.

"I have everything, I didn't forget."

"You really should retire," his wife said, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, looking over with a stern expression, her eyes as sharp as they had been in the past. "Don't wait until I have to drag you off the ship by your ear before you realize how serious your situation is."

"Have a safe trip," he mouthed.

Laurence silently replaced the cap on the medicine bottle, then opened his small suitcase and placed the remaining potion in a corner where it wouldn't be jostled. He muttered as he packed, "This psychiatrist is just fooling people...that stuff is terribly bitter, there's no herbal fragrance at all."

"Thank you, Martha, but I have to leave," the old captain said softly. "The White Oak is waiting in port."