"This will be your room from now on. Basic necessities are provided. If you need anything else, you can tell Alice, and she will arrange it for you, if she remembers.

"Next door is a small storage room, which you are also free to use for prayer or meditation. You are a devout believer and should have a need for that.

"Do not go to the lower levels. Do not be curious about the locked cabins. Strange creaking sounds or the sound of ropes scraping the floor occasionally come from the depths of this ship. Don't be alarmed; just ignore them. If something is really wrong, I will handle it personally.

"Remember the crew rules when living on the ship.

"Anything else you want to ask?"

Vanna stood at the door of her assigned room, looking at the simple and normal furniture inside the cabin, feeling a little dazed.

An ordinary bed, ordinary tables and chairs, ordinary cabinets. Everything was clean, with no suspicious shadows, no bloodstains hidden in the corners, and no blasphemous symbols written on the ceiling or floor—if you didn't consider that this was inside the *Shirelost*, it would just be an ordinary cabin.

But if she had to say it, there was indeed something unusual here.

The ship had a special set of "crew rules," the depths of the cabin contained forbidden "secret realms," and the entire ship was alive, even the ropes and buckets on the deck would often make unsettling noises.

These unusual details more or less matched her imagination of the *Shirelost*.

But compared to her full imagination, those hints of weirdness were really tame to the point of being harmless.

"Yes."

In the blink of an eye, the sanctuary disappeared, the holy statue disappeared, and the candlesticks disappeared. All that remained in Vanna Alice's vision were countless flames—some large, some small, some far, some near, some high, some low—the candlelight filled her surroundings, leaping and burning in an endless space of dark chaos, like stars.

"You can ask anything you want at any time," Shirley hastened her pace, tilting her head slightly to look at Vanna, who was following beside her. "There aren't many rules on this ship, and the most taboo thing during ocean voyages is for crew members to harbor secrets—the boundless sea will amplify the unease and confusion in your heart, and who knows when it will turn into something unwelcome."

Nina got up and ladled a bowl of steaming soup, placing it in front of the new crew member.

In her vision, the flame finally began to tremble, the trembling growing larger and larger, and then at a certain moment, it suddenly burned violently, the flame rising several times higher, and a ghostly green light burst out in the firelight. The whole process lasted only two seconds.

"Yes, about... the rumors of the return of the dead."

"That's one of the reasons her Pope sent her to this ship," Vanna said slowly. "I need to know what the real *Shirelost* is like, and I... also need him as a bridge to rebuild contact with the civilized world."

Vanna looked at the bowl of soup in front of her. In her previous conversation with Morris, she learned the "truth" about this seemingly ordinary food, and she also understood the unique symbolic meaning of this dinner. Looking at the fish swaying slightly in the thick soup, she felt a slight daze in front of her, but in an instant, that daze disappeared.

The holy statue lowered its head, and semi-transparent, spirit-like tentacles condensed from the pale, illusory smoke, winding out from the edge of the veil and slowly drooping down in front of her.

"Please drink," the doll-like miss said politely.

"Things are still calm in Frost City for the time being. The authorities seem to be blocking information about the submersible—but whether they block it or not doesn't really matter. Hardly anyone remembers the *Deepwater Project* from half a century ago," she said, shaking her head. "Compared to that, another matter seems unrelated to the submersible, but it seems worth paying attention to."

They had arrived at the dining hall.

Alice raised her head, and the countless flames in her vision moved slowly with her. A large number of flames drifted closer, but only a dim cluster of candlelight came before her, burning in the darkness.

"...I've remembered everything," Vanna nodded slowly, saying to Duncan, who had personally escorted her to the room. "I don't have any more questions for the time being."

"Oh, I understand. I can even roughly guess what you imagined the *Shirelost* to be like," Duncan said casually. "The first day is a lively welcome party instead of a dark and bloody sacrificial ritual. Unbelievable, right?"

"Yes, I will often pay attention to your condition," he said, "but I hope there's really nothing wrong with your mind... for example, showing signs of being eroded by the subspace.

"The scout reports that the Frost authorities have transferred the submersible to Dagger Island near the city-state. There's an old marine observation station there, which is now being temporarily used as a 'fourth Second Submersible' research facility," he answered. "They don't seem to have opened the submersible's hatch yet—possibly out of caution, or perhaps they're waiting for higher-level orders."

"I understand," Duncan breathed softly, lowering his head. "I will try my best to 'pull' you back, and if things are really beyond saving, I will try my best to let you return to your kingdom while retaining your humanity."

Tirion stood at the bow of the ship, gazing at the dark, cold sea in the distance, his brows tightly furrowed.

In the Pland City-State Cathedral, Helena stood before the holy statue of the Storm Goddess, watching the candle burning at the statue's feet.

"Good," Duncan said blandly. "Now put away your luggage, and dinner will begin soon—you'll definitely be interested in the deck barbecue after dinner. It's just Shirley and Nina messing around, but you have to attend dinner. It's a necessary procedure for new members."

The mist returned to the goddess's veil, and the holy statue moved bit by bit, returning to its previous appearance of intensely overlooking the mortal world.

Light and shadow flickered slightly on the surface of the holy statue, and the hard shell carved from stone seemed to gain elasticity like a living thing. Beneath this thick veil, a pale, illusory aura escaped bit by bit.

Duncan came to his empty seat, looking at the delicious food on the table in front of him, exuding fragrance under the cool lamplight.

Vanna silently put away her luggage, and after some hesitation, she also temporarily left the light and enormous greatsword in the room.

"We've entered the Frigid Sea, Captain," the first mate's quiet voice came in the night wind. "We should be back in the home port around this time tomorrow."/

Vanna's heart tightened. She steeled herself and finally spoke, "Actually, it's nothing, it's just that things haven't developed the way I imagined, and I'm feeling a bit... lost."

"Your messenger hasn't boarded the ship and was completely transformed two minutes ago. Now she is part of the *Shirelost*," Valentine said calmly and respectfully, watching these tentacles. "But as before, she still maintains her humanity and rationality, and maintains the psychic connection with the group of believers."

The countless candles in the darkness instantly faded away, and the scenery in the sanctuary returned to normal.

Tirion did not turn his head. "Any new news from Frost?"

"No," Nina shook her head, her expression earnestly innocent. "That's your fish soup."

Two illusory tentacles swayed even more dramatically, and the strange rustling sound was mixed with a series of grunts that humans could not possibly make or identify.

The tentacles swayed slightly, emitting a low, strange rustling sound, interspersed with the sound of gentle waves.

"Is that my fate?" she couldn't help muttering.

"Not really... the sacrificial ritual isn't that exaggerated, but the scene I initially imagined was indeed not as peaceful as it is now." Duncan seemed to smile. "In any case, you'd better relax a little now."

Under the swaying whale oil lamps, the long table was already filled with dishes. Steaming fish soup was placed in the most prominent spot on the entire table. The crew members waited on both sides of the long table for their captain, and a low, soft creaking sound came from the depths of the cabin, like a song sung by the ancient expedition ship at nightfall.

Night fell, and the cold light of the Worldscar hung high in the night sky.

It smells pretty good.

She remained silent all the way while following Nina to the dining hall.

"Another matter?"

Ice floes occupied the sea, with treacherous sharp ice peaks lurking in the sparkling waves. The steel warship with its towering bow cleaved through the waves in the night, heading forward in the boundless sea of ice floes.

"Okay, these good-for-nothings at least have a basic level of caution," Tirion breathed softly, but his brow did not relax at all. "Besides that, is there any new news?"

The large and small pieces of ice seemed to be intimidated by the might of the steel warship, and they actively scattered to both sides after the *Sea Mist* approached. Under the cold glow of the Worldscar, the sea seemed to have a small path opened up, and the steel behemoth traveled through the path.

Each cluster of flame represents a saint, representing the foundation upon which the Deep Sea Church has flourished to this day.

The Pope watched the flame, waiting patiently.

In any case, it would be too strange to go to the dining hall with a greatsword.

But her worried look did not escape Duncan's eyes.

But she stopped at the last step.

"...Really completely transformed," Helena couldn't help but murmur softly, then subconsciously raised her hand, as if wanting to touch the cluster of flame where Vanna was burning with her fingertip.

Helena raised her head and looked at the goddess statue covering her face and overlooking the sanctuary.

The tentacles curled and contracted, waiting for her to speak.

The flame returned to calm, emitting a faint green glow, burning dimly and silently in the darkness.

These candlesticks with intricate and exquisite decorative patterns were burning, and the flames at their tops gradually rose in Helena's vision, then swayed, united, spread, and diffused.

Then dumbfounded, then a smile floated to the corner of her mouth.

The tentacles swayed gently, making soothing whispers, then these illusory limbs turned back into pale, thin mist, rising little by little into the air.