Arknights: The Life Inside-Chapter 84

The dark clouds that had shrouded the sea began to scatter, and golden sunlight poured through, melting away the dread that had gripped every heart.

The sun bathed the deck in warm light. Everything was calm again. The nightmare that had unfolded moments ago felt almost unreal, like a bad dream everyone had woken from too suddenly.

Passengers who had been huddled in the cabin slowly stepped out. They looked up at the sky—now a boundless, brilliant blue. Then down at the sea, where endless waves mirrored the sky's peace. It all looked unchanged. But the gaping hole torn through the deck was a harsh reminder: it wasn't a dream. It had happened.

The small, battered Colombian vessel had "ridden the waves" through chaos and survived a disaster deep at sea. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Later, the captain gave a brief account of the damage.

There had been no deaths—something to be thankful for. But not everything escaped unscathed.

A young girl had her finger injured in the panic. A woman had her face scratched by a broken wine glass. Two elderly passengers had their blood pressure spike from the shock, and more than a dozen adults had... well, wet themselves in fear.

Material losses? Significant. The restaurant was wrecked after the violent tilting of the ship. And the deck—now sporting a massive five-meter-wide hole—was a mess. Turtle had crawled out of that hole backwards, her rear end in the air. According to her, she wasn't hurt.

Despite the damage, the power system was intact. The ship could still sail. The captain, though, was already calculating the repair costs with a grim look.

That said, the biggest losers weren't the ship's crew. It was the Platts brothers. They'd coughed up three S-class Origin Stones to save their skins. A heavy price, but in the end, their lives had been spared. So maybe it was a fair trade.

Physically, though, no one had taken a worse beating than Yoren.

When ACE dragged him back onto the deck, he looked like someone had hauled in a sunken war relic. His shoulders were mangled, his waist and thighs clawed open. His entire left arm was etched with crimson threads, like a thousand blades had grazed it. The signs of severe demonic overload.

The old captain's eyes welled up as he knelt by Yoren.

"Young man... this whole ship owes you its life. May you rest in peace. May there be no more monsters in heaven."

Yoren, sprawled on the deck like a half-dead dog, cracked one eye open and growled hoarsely through bloodless lips.

"Screw off. I'm not dead."

"Ah—sorry, I thought—well, you closed your eyes and—"

"I'm tired. Ever heard of resting your eyes? Cough—cough—"

"Okay, okay, just rest, don't talk."

With the danger passed, the crew scrambled to patch things up. A few strong passengers offered to help. ACE laid the unconscious Ifrit in the sun, letting her soak in the warmth. Seeing that Snowsant was unharmed, Yoren finally let out a breath.

His wounds were hastily wrapped. He propped himself against the railing, his body barely holding together.

To anyone else, wounds like his would mean certain death. But Yoren wasn't exactly "anyone" anymore.

He figured the power of "white"—one half of the black-and-white twins—was kicking in. Helmer had explained it before: a kind of passive vitality enhancement. Stronger willpower. Reduced pain. Not exactly a lifesaver in battle, but the effects were adding up. Slowly reshaping his body. Something like a slow, creeping transformation.

Back then, Yoren hadn't taken it seriously. It sounded minor—useless in life-or-death moments. But now? He was starting to understand. The boost didn't show up in flashy ways, but in moments like this, when he should've been out cold but wasn't.

Snowsant came over, her eyes wide with worry.

"Windmill... does it hurt?"

"It hurts. I'm used to it."

"It's windy here. I can help you to the lounge..."

Yoren shook his head.

"I'm fine. Go check on Ifrit. Don't worry about me."

"Oh... okay."

She left. Yoren let out a sharp breath once she was gone. His shoulder wound was the worst. If he hadn't already burned everything in that last attack, he wouldn't even be alive.

The "boiled fish" plan had failed. Or at least, it hadn't fully worked. The theory was sound, but he'd miscounted the fish. The fire was hot enough, the pot was big enough, but after cooking one... he found another still swimming.

His miscalculation had nearly gotten everyone killed. Ifrit had gone down after her blast. Turtle had no combat ability to begin with. Yoren had been too injured to keep fighting. That left only ACE. And yet, in the moment where hope ran out, someone else had picked up the sword and paid the price. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

Yoren turned his head toward the bow.

There, resting quietly beside a massive sword planted into the deck, sat the silver-haired woman. Her hair swayed gently in the sea breeze. She faced the horizon, her deep gaze locked on something far beyond it—perhaps an island, perhaps something no one else could see.

And softly, she sang.

"Hmmhmmhmmhmm Wandering in the blue~

Wellwellwellwell Echoing in the deep sea~

Hmmhmmhmmhmm Wandering on an isolated island~

Hmmhmmhmmhmm Traveling through time and space~

The waves are surging, the shells are singing

Listen to their song, the song of the ocean

Whether peaceful or calm, I'm searching

The gods who guard the sea will guide me to the other shore~~"

The melody drifted across the deck—gentle, fluid. Unlike the wildness of the sea, her voice flowed like a mountain spring. It cleansed the soul.

But underneath that clarity, there was a melancholy. Loneliness echoed in her voice. A sorrow that resonated quietly but deeply.

She didn't seem to care about the others on deck. Didn't speak. Just sat, and sang, and watched the sea.

And for reasons he couldn't explain, Yoren suddenly missed home.

Killer whales—majestic predators of the ocean.

They are ruthless carnivores, masters of the hunt, preying on other whales, seals, and even great white sharks. They are the undisputed overlords of the sea.

With unmatched strength, they roam the vast oceans, leaping through the waves with ease. In Yoren's original world, this was how people understood killer whales.

But strength often comes with fragility. It is a universal truth.

Unlike most marine creatures, killer whales possess a fatal weakness: they fear loneliness. To their enemies, this might not seem like a flaw, but for an isolated killer whale, solitude is a slow and silent killer.

Known as the "language masters" of the ocean, killer whales can produce 62 distinct sounds, each carrying its own meaning. They are singers of the sea. In the vast, empty waters, a lone killer whale drifts without purpose—not just searching for food, but for companionship, a way to escape the crushing weight of solitude.

So, when a stray killer whale encounters a human vessel, it circles excitedly, offering its catch as if to barter for company. It may even defend the ship from sharks, guiding it safely through the waves. If not for its size, perhaps it would climb aboard and sing alongside the sailors.

But humans belong to the land. In the end, the ship will dock, and loneliness will return, dragging the whale back into the depths of the sea.

The edge of the deck.

By the middle of the song, the silver-haired woman's voice shifted into a language Yoren couldn't understand. Yet, even without comprehending the words, he felt the weight of emotion woven into the melody.

As he listened to the hauntingly beautiful tune, an illusion took hold of him.

The orca that saved him—perhaps she, too, was drowning in loneliness. But what she truly faced in the deep sea was something even deadlier than solitude. And maybe, just maybe, she hadn't left immediately because she wanted to linger for a moment, to sit on the deck, hum a song from the heart, and bask in the fleeting presence of others.

Yes. Yoren already knew who she was.

Beings with the power to defy monsters, yet forever apart from the world of ordinary people. In the depths of the ocean, they had fought unseen battles, shielding the land's cities from catastrophe for generations. Their kind had a name.

Hunters of the Deep.

Before Yoren found himself in Terra, he had played the final event in the Arknights game: Cavalry and Hunters.

The silver hair, the crimson eyes, the unmistakable weapon—there was no way he wouldn't recognize her.

"Titi."

The affectionate name slipped from his lips.

The woman's song stopped. She turned, red eyes unreadable.

"A land-dweller, calling for me?"

"Yes."

"What a peculiar way to address me."

Despite the pain from his injuries, Yoren forced a smile.

"This isn't just a greeting. I'm calling your name, Miss Orca—Skadi."

A flicker of surprise passed through Skadi's gaze, but it was fleeting, quickly replaced by an indifferent expression.

"How curious."

"Yes. It really is."

"There is no record of you in my memory. Tell me—how do you know my name?"

Yoren hesitated for a brief moment before answering.

"Maybe we met in a dream."

Time had passed. Yoren was no longer the lost young man who had first arrived in Terra. Though he was overjoyed to see Skadi, he no longer reacted with the same wide-eyed excitement as when he first met Saileach or Lin. He had grown, gaining a deeper understanding of this world, its factions, its future operators, and even his own existence.

For some reason, neither of them questioned each other's pasts. A silent understanding settled between them.

It had been a long time since Skadi had spoken with anyone. Though her face remained cold, Yoren could hear the unspoken longing in her voice—a need for conversation, even if it was about the most trivial things.

"Land-dweller, you—"

"You can call me by my name. I'm Yoren."

"...Very well, Yoren. Why have you come to these waters? What is your purpose?"

Yoren shook his head.

"Our ship came from Columbia. After four days at sea, we're just passing through. Our destination is Victoria."

"I see. Victoria... that is a large city, isn't it?"

At her words, Yoren immediately caught onto something. This was the year 1093 in Terra's calendar. Skadi hadn't become a bounty hunter yet. He wasn't sure if she had ever set foot on land, but at the very least, she didn't know Victoria was more than just a city—it was an empire.

With a gentle smile, he explained, "Victoria is big, but it's not just a city. It's an entire country, home to many cities."

"...I see."

Skadi tilted her head slightly, lost in thought.

"If someone like me were to go to Victoria, would I be able to fit in? No... if I leave the sea, I should go somewhere even farther. I heard there is a country at the edge of the north, where snow covers the land year-round. I've never seen snow before, but in my mind, I imagine it must look a lot like the sea."

The crew continued repairing the ship, unaware of the quiet conversation unfolding on the deck.

To any observer, their words might have seemed disconnected. But Yoren, who knew the course of history, caught the deeper meaning hidden within Skadi's musings.

Three years from now, Skadi would resurface in Kazimierz as a bounty hunter. But what happened in the years before that was a mystery. She had mentioned a land of endless snow—without a doubt, she was referring to Kjerag. And now, three years before the storm in Seven Cities, she was already contemplating a journey to Kjerag.

Yoren recalled something else—his first meeting with Snowsant. At the time, Saileach's convoy was heading toward Mandel City, but Snowsant had been on the road as well. She had said she was going to Kjerag to find someone.

Was this really just a coincidence?

Rhodes Island records stated that Skadi had left the Deep Sea Hunters, searching for something that could prevent future tragedies. Her so-called wandering might have been a form of escape—but also a quiet act of resistance.

There were still too many unanswered questions, so for now, Yoren tucked the information away in his mind.

He and Skadi continued talking, their words touching on insignificant matters—yet for some reason, neither of them wanted to stop.

Then, a small figure approached.

Snowsant ran over with an apple, her round eyes filled with concern. She held it out to Yoren.

"Big Windmill, you're hurt. Eat an apple to regain your strength."

Yoren smiled and shook his head.

"I'm not hungry. Give it to the one who saved us."

Snowsant hesitated, her gaze shifting to the massive, bloodstained sword beside Skadi. Gathering her courage, she stepped forward, lifting the apple into the air.

"Here. Eat an apple, Aina."