Chapter 707 Roughcast

The fleet sailed at low speed through the clinging, unparting mist, the hazy silhouettes of the ships watching each other, like a group of enormous ghosts rising and falling in a sea of fog.

Within the Eternal Shroud, the power of the mist was far greater than outside the barrier. As the fleet advanced deeper, the surrounding fog became increasingly difficult to dispel. Even with the blazing "Spiritfire Lighthouse" illuminating the entire fleet, thin wisps of mist still drifted in from the edges of the sea, shrouding each ship and flowing across the decks—the all-pervasive mist even began to gradually seep into the cabins, drifting around the sailors.

Sandra, the commander of the Tide, stood at the command seat on the bridge, his brow furrowed as he watched the thin mist slowly flowing around him with a solemn expression.

He was a tall man with dark skin and striking platinum-blonde short hair. The storm tattoo on his left cheek indicated that he had once been an ascetic who, upon completing all his ascetic vows, had been promoted, blessed, and become a formidable border commander. But now, this border commander's expression was not optimistic.

"How far have we advanced?"

Sandra turned his head and suddenly asked a tech-priest beside him.

"We are approaching the six-nautical-mile boundary—one nautical mile left," the gray-haired tech-priest, wearing a robe decorated with thunder and gear emblems, replied quickly. "Our speed is slow, but even at this pace, we are about to reach that limit."

Sandra nodded, his expression growing more solemn.

"Six nautical miles… The lighthouse in the distance still shows no signs of stopping, continuing to lead the entire fleet slowly into the deeper reaches of the mist. This indicates that the so-called 'holy land' is located in even deeper waters."

"However, if we continue like this, the fleet will cross that forbidden boundary."

Beyond six nautical miles lay the absolute limit of civilization's light. Once crossed, the last vestige of order on the boundless sea would vanish, even if saints and the Pope themselves were present.

The Storm Cathedral's orders to the Tide were to fully cooperate with the Forsaken's operations here, but this did not include crossing the six-nautical-mile boundary.

Sandra frowned, his gaze directed towards the depths of the mist.

"Those Annihilation cultists haven't appeared yet… This isn't normal either."

With such a narrow safe sea area available for activity on the border, it was difficult to conceal such a large fleet. Moreover, there was that blazing fire lighthouse standing in the fog. If the cultists were hiding nearby, they would have surely discovered this menacing joint fleet long ago—whether to confront it head-on or launch an ambush, this sea area shouldn't be so quiet, quiet as if…

"There aren't any cultists here at all."

"Could they have all run away?"

A bold idea suddenly popped into Sandra's mind, and he fell into contemplation.

"Those cultists should have known their secrets were exposed long ago—after Captain Duncan captured their sacrificial ship filled with blood and evil. They certainly had enough time to flee this place, but the key question is…"

"As a group of fanatical heretics, would they really abandon their holy land out of fear?"

"Perhaps some deserters would emerge, but based on Sandra's years of experience dealing with cultists, more fanatical heretics would definitely stay behind, exhausting all kinds of vile and terrifying means and powers to fight the church to the death—those madmen whose minds have been completely corrupted by blasphemous thoughts have never hesitated to sacrifice their lives for their faith."

Some faint noises entered Sandra's ears, sounding like a sharp but indistinct ringing. Along with the ringing, the outlines of shadows at the edge of his vision suddenly began to tremble.

Sandra frowned and looked down at the railing in front of him, seeing mottled colors rising beneath the railing, with oily droplets condensing in the colors and falling onto the floor one by one.

"Common auditory and visual hallucinations in the border sea area—but relative to the current depth of the fleet, this degree of hallucination is very slight."

"This must be thanks to the power of that enormous fire lighthouse."

"Have the ship's chapels light incense, ring the prayer bells, and pressurize the steam pipes," Sandra said, glancing up at the eerie green fire lighthouse in the mist ahead. "Remind the other ships to pay attention to the mental state of their crew."

Boregina, commander of the Repose, looked at her right hand, which was wearing a long black glove, and slowly clenched it into a fist.

When she opened her palm again, the several blurry eyeballs that had appeared in her palm at some point had disappeared.

The goddess officer, with dark golden curly hair, raised her head and muttered softly, "The world before us is becoming increasingly unreal…"

Chapter 707 Roughcast

"Currently, everyone's minds are unaffected. Mild auditory and visual hallucinations can still be overcome and distinguished through reason,"

A junior priest said beside Boregina. "The Tide sent a message earlier, saying that similar hallucinations are spreading on their side, but the level of contamination is being maintained at a low level."

"Hallucinations with obvious strangeness are not scary. What's scary are those things that seem to conform to our common sense, giving people an extremely normal feeling," Boregina shook her head. "Or rather… what's scary is when we think everything around us is normal."

"We have entered the depths of the Shroud. This is almost the limit distance in history," the junior priest said cautiously. "Previously, the Deep Sea Church relied on deploying a large number of mobile lighthouses and temporary chapels to advance only six nautical miles into the Shroud…"

Boregina didn't speak, but looked out the porthole of the bridge. Through the distant and hazy mist, she saw a towering eerie green flame illuminating the entire sea area, and slightly magnified in her vision.

After a moment, she suddenly broke the silence softly: "Slowing down…"

Under Duncan's command, the guiding ship, which was burning fiercely and resembled a giant torch, began to slow down slowly and approached the Forsaken.

The joint fleet following behind the lighthouse immediately reacted, beginning to adjust its formation while shrinking its ranks.

Vanna stood on the high platform at the stern, looking at the sea where the fleet was gathering.

Frankly speaking, forming a dense formation in dangerous waters where enemies might be lurking was not a good idea. This would probably cause many true naval experts to emit sharp beeps—but in this dangerous and bizarre border, many things could not be done according to common sense.

Compared to the distant artillery fire, the risk of getting lost in the thick fog after dispersing the formation was obviously greater—not to mention that the biggest risk here was not ships getting lost in the fog, but those ships that came back after getting lost.

But after coming all the way here in tension and caution, the joint fleet did not encounter any welcoming artillery fire—accompanying them was only the fog, the boundless fog.

"Where have all those cultists gone?" Vanna couldn't help frowning and muttering softly.

Footsteps came from behind, and Duncan's voice followed: "How likely do you think it is that they collectively ran away? If they really wanted to run, they would have had plenty of time to escape these days."

"I don't think that group of madmen would easily give up their holy land—even if you were to come in person, there would definitely be extreme fanatics who would share life and death with the holy land," Vanna said, shaking her head. "Their words and deeds may be blasphemous and insane, but in terms of piety, I still recognize them."

“…According to the feeling reported by that guiding ship, this should already be near the holy land. Its longing for home points to this sea area,” Duncan said slowly, stepping to the edge of the deck, looking at the particularly calm, uniquely tranquil sea of the border. “Now I’m really a little curious… how did that group of Annihilation cultists discover that there was a so-called holy land here and settle down here? I didn’t see anything… Could it be that their blind faith really earned them some guidance?”

As Duncan's voice fell, Vanna opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to say something, but just as she was about to speak, a soft thumping sound suddenly came from outside the ship's side, interrupting the conversation between her and the captain.

It sounded like something was drifting over, constantly hitting the Forsaken's hull.

Duncan and Vanna instantly exchanged a glance, then quickly walked to the location where the impact sound came from and looked down.

On the mirror-like calm sea, which exhibited an oily texture, a pitch-black form was floating beside the Forsaken's hull. The border sea was calm and without waves, but the thing floating on the surface seemed to be constantly pushed by invisible waves, hitting the hull's wooden planks again and again. And in each rise and fall, its outline was clearly presented before Duncan and Vanna's eyes—it was a pitch-black humanoid form!

The moment he saw that thing, Duncan's expression changed slightly, and then he waved his hand in the air, "Bring that thing up!"

A flash of eerie green light streaked past, and a burning skeletal bird of prey swooped down from the nearby mast,

Gliding across the sea surface abruptly, and then returned to the deck almost in the blink of an eye.

Before long, everyone on the Forsaken had gathered upon hearing the news.

The humanoid form that Aey had salvaged was lying motionless on the deck.

It was a pitch-black humanoid object about 1.8 meters tall, but it only had the general outline of a person, without facial features, without hair, and without even the details of hands and feet, giving people the feeling… as if it were a roughcast created in the process of making a clay figurine.

Several gazes fell on Duncan at the same time, and the latter slowly nodded after carefully examining the black mud roughcast.

“…Indeed, it’s one of those things from the Frosty Deep Sea."

"A half-finished mortal being in the Primal Shadow's creation process."