Chapter 1 Tirian

Tirian stood on the towering bridge of the Sea Mist, his gaze fixed on the vast ocean through the wide windows.

That was once the direction of Dagger Isle—now, only a wide expanse of sea remained, along with a few patrol boats still searching for clues in vain.

Dagger Isle had been gone for so long, yet neither the Frostlings nor the Sea Mist Fleet had found anything in this sea area.

The great pirate sighed, turned, and left the bridge, then entered his own cabin. On the desk in his cabin sat an antique oval mirror, which seemed out of place with the overall advanced style of the Sea Mist.

Tirian approached the mirror, looking at his reflection with some hesitation.

But soon, he cast aside that hesitation, reached into a drawer, and took out a carved candlestick used for rituals, placing it in front of the mirror.

"Sea Mist calling Lost Home..." Tirian murmured softly. At this moment, he felt like those sailors who were bewitched by the strange phenomena of the boundless sea and driven to madness, offering sacrifices in their final moments of frenzy to summon the terrifying power from the depths of darkness—and the reality seemed not far off. What he was about to summon was indeed the most fearsome power in this sea area.

It just so happened that that power was his father.

The candlestick ignited spontaneously, bright flames leaping above the candles. The light and shadow reflected in the mirror. Tirian watched the small flames nervously, and when he saw them flicker a few times, then quickly turn a ghostly green, he knew that his call had been successfully answered.

The oval mirror quickly became covered in a layer of flame, the center of the mirror turning as black as ink. Tirian's own figure disappeared from the mirror, and after a moment, another figure emerged from it—it was Duncan’s main body, who remained on the Lost Home.

Duncan was holding a piece of bread. He looked up and glanced at the mirror. "I was just about to have lunch—have you eaten?"

"Uh... not yet," Tirian replied, a little stunned and somewhat unaccustomed. For some reason, his father seemed to have undergone some subtle changes after regaining his humanity. His greetings were so different. The good news was that these greetings were actually very kind and friendly, but Tirian hadn't spoken to his father so naturally for too long, and he still felt particularly awkward.

"You should eat lunch on time, it's good for your health," Duncan said casually. "What do you need me for?"

"We've searched the entire sea area around Dagger Isle and found nothing," Tirian steadied himself and turned his attention back to business. "The Frostlings are still insisting on searching, but I think they will also be in vain."

"The deep sea swallowed that island. The root of the problem is underwater. Searching on the surface is meaningless—and the biggest problem now is that we don't have suitable diving equipment," Duncan shook his head. "Also, the city is getting tense now. The Church will soon expand the search to the Second Waterway—but rest assured, I've already sent warnings to your informants."

Tirian subconsciously tensed up when he heard that the Church was going to search the Second Waterway, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the second half of Duncan's words. Then he frowned, "They suspect the heretical nests in the city are hidden in the Second Waterway?"

"After all, they've already turned the entire city-state upside down," Duncan raised his eyelids. "Besides the Second Waterway, they have no other ideas."

Tirian frowned and remained silent. Seeing this, Duncan asked, "What's wrong? Do you have any ideas?"

"...I don't think they can find any clues in the Second Waterway," Tirian slowly shook his head. "Although my informants don't control the entire Second Waterway, they are at least familiar with the situation down there and control several key nodes. If there really was a large group of Annihilation cultists hiding down there and holding large-scale rituals... I should have heard something."

"Perhaps they are really well-hidden, or perhaps the rituals they held have distorted the cognition of all the informants who noticed the movements—either they didn't notice anything, or if they did, they would be contaminated, which prevents you from receiving accurate information."

Tirian slowly nodded. "...That is indeed an explanation, especially since you have confirmed the existence of cognitive contamination within the city-state."

"I'll also keep an eye on the Second Waterway," Duncan said in the mirror. "I'm also curious about where those Annihilation cultists are hiding—if your people run into trouble in the process, I'll try to help."

"Thank you very much," Tirian said immediately, bowing his head.

Just then, a sudden knock interrupted the conversation in the cabin.

"Someone's looking for you," Duncan in the mirror noticed the movement. "If there's nothing else, go take care of your business."

"Alright, Father."

The figure in the mirror faded away, the flames on the edge of the mirror dissipated, and the candlestick in front of the mirror gradually returned to its original state.

Tirian breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the pressure gradually receding from his heart. Then he frowned, got up, and opened the door. "What's going on?"

"A fast ship from Frostling," an undead sailor with a hole in his head stood outside the door, saluting. "They approached under the flags and light signals of 'non-military action' and 'request for communication.' It seems to be a group of... envoys."

"Envoys?" Tirian paused in surprise, but soon, an intrigued expression appeared on his face. "That's a bit interesting... They really couldn't sit still."

"Open fire?" the sailor looked at his captain with anticipation.

"Open fire my ass—let them come over," Tirian glared at the sailor, then added, "Only three people are allowed on board. If they can't accept it, they can go back where they came from."

On the mechanical fast ship flying the flags of the Frostling city-state, a formally dressed secretary kept wiping his glasses as he looked up at the steel warship that was constantly enlarging in his field of vision.

The Sea Mist was getting closer and closer, its high bow like a mountain floating on the icy sea, bringing an increasing sense of oppression. On the surrounding sea surface, fragments of floating ice drifted and swam in the water like living creatures, even consciously rotating around the hull of the mechanical fast ship and constantly colliding with the hull near the waterline.

The sound of the ice fragments actively hitting the hull was disturbing and nerve-wracking.

The secretary couldn't help but wipe his eyes again, and stories circulated in the Frostling city-state involuntarily surfaced in his mind—all the stories revolved around curses on the outer sea, a great pirate in the mist, sailors frozen into ice sculptures in their sleep, and eating a child for every meal.

"We're close enough," the secretary put on his gold-rimmed glasses, took a deep breath, and said to the accompanying military officer, "Stop at this distance—any further, and that warship will open fire."

"Lowest speed, turn the rudder to port!" The accompanying military officer turned his head and shouted to the messenger sailor.

The speed of the mechanical fast ship suddenly slowed down, and it slightly adjusted its heading, gradually paralleling the huge steel warship.

At the same time, the accompanying military officer paid attention to the movements on the Sea Mist.

He saw flashing lights suddenly appear on the warship, and then a sailor appeared on the ship's side, waving a flag towards the mechanical fast ship.

"They're sending a signal," the secretary quickly asked, "What does it mean?"

"The Sea Mist has accepted our request... Thank goodness, this time it's a signal that living people can understand," the accompanying military officer visibly breathed a sigh of relief. Then, he saw a small boat lowered from the side of the warship. "And they've lowered a small boat to transfer personnel."

"May the God of Death protect us... I thought they would just open fire." The secretary also visibly breathed a sigh of relief. As the first "envoy" sent to negotiate with the Sea Mist Fleet, even though he had mentally prepared himself to serve the city-state before coming, he still felt a sense of relief after surviving a disaster.

The small boat sent from the Sea Mist quickly arrived next to the Frostling mechanical fast ship. Several undead sailors in old-era naval uniforms sat in the small boat.

The conspicuous Queen's insignia on their arms and the uniforms representing the previous era were particularly eye-catching, and even more eye-catching than their attire was their appearance as undead.

Two of them had large holes in their heads, and another had a hole through his chest. Only one of them seemed to have no external injuries—but he was swollen and terrifying like a corpse that had been soaked in the sea for three days.

The Frostling sailors on the mechanical fast ship were somewhat nervous when they saw these undead sailors, and after watching them step onto the Frostling ship, many people showed complex expressions.

However, the undead obviously didn't care about the attitude of these living people. They just walked straight to the person who appeared to have the highest rank on the scene.

"Who is the envoy?"

"That's me," the man with gold-rimmed glasses, wearing a short礼服, immediately stepped forward. He controlled the tension in his heart and tried not to look too much at the terrible features of the undead sailors, trying to speak in a calm tone. "My name is Eddie Ruhr, representing the Frostling City-State to talk with the Sea Mist Fleet."

"A clerk?" The swollen undead sailor frowned, looked Eddie, and said mockingly, "I thought you would at least send a few military representatives—can't the current Frostling Navy find a few soldiers with enough guts?"

The accompanying military officer immediately stepped forward, but before he could speak, Eddie held him back.

"I'm the envoy," the clerk wearing gold-rimmed glasses looked at the undead sailor in front of him and emphasized, "Take me to see General Tirian."

The relationship between the Sea Mist Fleet and the city-state was already tense enough. The two sides had been facing off on a powder keg for fifty years. At this sensitive time, sending a few more military officers to deal with them would be meaningless—sending a clerk over could at least show a hint of goodwill.

This Mr. Clerk was obviously a little nervous.

On the deck of the Sea Mist, Tirian looked the "city-state diplomat" up and down. He could clearly distinguish the other party's forced calmness and the disordered rhythm of his breathing. This gentleman's calmness was actually very good, but unfortunately, it could deal with ordinary people, but not a captain who commanded an undead legion.

Tirian could even hear every heartbeat of this diplomat.

Eddie was also observing the great pirate in front of him—observing the man who had once protected the city-state, but now had almost become the source of terrifying legends in the hearts of all Frostlings.

Tall, strong, silent, majestic, with scrutiny and condescension in his one eye, every gaze was like a judgment.

In front of this great pirate, even breathing seemed to become a very difficult task.

"General Tirian," Eddie tried to take two deep breaths to straighten his body, meeting the great pirate's scrutinizing gaze. "I extend my greetings to you on behalf of the Frostling City-State—I am very glad to be on this legendary warship."

"Half a century," Tirian calmly stared at the man who was a head shorter than him. "Frostling has finally mustered the courage to talk to me?"

Eddie didn't care about the provocative meaning in the other party's words. He just continued, "I have come with a mission—the entanglement between Frostling and the Sea Mist Fleet does exist, but that's not what we're here to talk about today. You should know the trouble the city-state is facing now. We just want to know the Sea Mist Fleet's intentions—General Tirian, what do you want, and what do you want to do?"

"General... Put away that title, it doesn't please me," Tirian glanced at Eddie indifferently and slowly walked to the edge of the ship not far away. "As for what I want to do... Isn't it obvious enough? I am blockading this city-state that is about to fall—to prevent your disaster from spreading out and harming my 'trade partners' on the Cold Coast."

"Trade partners?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that title—they pay the price, and the Sea Mist Fleet protects their safety on the Cold Coast," Tirian turned his head. "Don't you think this is a very good trade relationship?"

The corner of Eddie's mouth twitched slightly, but he quickly concealed the change. He glanced at the surrounding undead sailors before slowly walking to Tirian. "You mean... you just want to help Frostling control this crisis?"

"A bit of a presumptuous understanding, but it doesn't matter if you want to think that way," Tirian said casually. "I don't need you to do anything, just don't mess with me."

Eddie was silent for two seconds before finally speaking cautiously. "...Can I know why you want to help?"

Tirian rested his hands on the railing at the edge of the ship, without turning his head. "Is the reason important?"

"I need a reason. This can put my superiors and colleagues at ease."

"Ah, Mr. Eddie, so you actually need a reason that can put people at ease," Tirian laughed. He turned his head and stared into Eddie's eyes. "Then I'll tell you the reason—it's just my father's order."

Eddie was stunned.

After a moment, his expression visibly turned horrified.

"Looks like you figured it out. Yes, my father's order. Just think of it as coming from the subspace. He told me to send troops to surround your poor little city-state—so go back and tell your superiors that the Sea Mist Fleet is carrying out the will from the subspace," Tirian's tone was quite cheerful. "Then they can have a baby's sleep."

The cheerful expression on the great pirate's face was very obvious. Eddie finally reacted—or rather, he thought he had reacted. He immediately breathed a sigh of relief and raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. "Your joke isn't funny at all, General Tirian... Captain. I understand what you mean. If you don't want to explain, I don't have to ask."

Tirian stared at the "Frostling Ambassador" in front of him, then clicked his tongue after a moment.

No one believes the truth these days.

But he was still in a very good mood.

It was always a pleasant thing to watch this serious Frostling senior official be startled in front of him.

"You can leave now, Mr. Eddie," he said politely. "There's no dinner prepared for you on board."

Eddie was obviously stunned. "Ah? Wait, I still..."

"You have a lot more questions you want to ask, such as the Sea Mist Fleet's next plan, such as about Dagger Isle, such as the Queen and the Deep Dive Project back then, but unfortunately, I don't have much to say to Frostling," Tirian said with a calm face. "You have already achieved your goal, completed your mission. Go back and tell your superiors that if there is anything else in the future, you can contact us directly by radio telegraph. You don't need to send anyone over—we can receive it on any open frequency."

Eddie paused, then immediately reacted, a hint of joy on his face. "Ah, okay, Captain Tirian, thank you very much for your understanding..."

He paused here, as if suddenly remembering something, and hurriedly said, "Ah, wait, there's one more question, one last question!"