Ashes Of Deep Sea-Chapter 268 - 272: Turning to the North

Chapter 268: Chapter 272: Turning to the North

Duncan momentarily paused his efforts to remove the residual glue from Alice, as if he was intently listening for a sound from afar. After a moment, he bent his head down again and wiped away some small fragments from the table with a soft cloth.

Alice blinked her eyes curiously, looking at the captain, “Cap-captain, what just ha-happened?”

“Morris received a letter from a distant friend and he’s not too reassured by what the letter reveals,” Duncan smiled, stood up, and continued to clear the glue from around Alice’s neck joint as he spoke, “He wants me to take a look at the situation.”

“Distant fr-friend?” Alice stammered from the navigation desk, “Are they in da-danger? Are we going to re-rescue someone?”

The glue on the neck joint wasn’t much and it was easier to clean than the residual glue inside the head joint’s crevices, so Duncan quickly dealt with the dried glue. He finished the final wiping meticulously and then bent down to lift Alice’s head, placing her back in position with the care one would give to an artwork.

“We might be going to rescue someone,” he said softly, as he rotated the doll’s head left and right, “but it could also be to help them rest in peace. Either way, we are heading to a far-off place.”

The doll’s head was settled in place and Alice’s somewhat vacant eyes instantly became animated. She gave her head a gentle shake, like a puppet infused with a soul, and spoke smoothly, “Ah, then where are we going?”

Duncan put away his cleaning tools and his gaze shifted to the sea chart shrouded in mist.

On the chart, the little bright dot representing the Sea Mist was slowly moving, having left the proximity of Prand for some distance.

“North,” he said in a low voice, his eyes on the figurehead of a goat, “Raise the jib and the foresail, turn toward north—follow the Sea Mist.”

“Aye, Captain!”

…

Heidi placed the small brown bottle on the coffee table. About two-thirds of the clear medicine inside was visible, reflecting a pale golden light in the gradually sinking sunset, and within the spreading rings of golden light, tiny bubbles seemed to continuously emerge and dance near the surface of the liquid.

“This is the last dose of the medicine, slightly stronger than the ones you’ve used before. You can drink it when you set sail; you’ll need only three drops each time—of course, I also suggest you start taking it now,” the psychiatrist said, lifting her head to look at the old captain with graying hair, “As a captain who has spent half his life on the Endless Sea, you should take more responsibility for your health.”

“Thank you for the suggestion, Miss Heidi. I’m aware of my condition,” Lawrence replied, neither impatient nor particularly enthusiastic, merely curiously lifting the bottle to observe the liquid bubbling through the glass in the sunlight, “…A beautiful medicine. Is it bitter?”

“A little, but mostly it has the scent of herbs, and I’ve added some honey to mask the bitterness,” Heidi said, “It won’t be too hard to swallow.”

As she spoke, she lifted her head and glanced out the window.

The sun was gradually sinking, with the slightly orange-red sunlight shining through the glass window into the living room.

This was the home of Lawrence, the captain of the White Oak, and as a seasoned old captain, he had decorated his living room with many items that testified to his seafaring experience—from coral specimens collected from shallow waters near the shore to models of ship’s wheels and vessels, totem decorations from certain remote City-States, and against the wall stood a large shelf filled with awards and memorabilia given by the Explorers’ Association, City-State authorities, and the four major churches.

Now, these symbols of glory and memory were submerged in the slanting sunlight, coated with a layer of golden glow, fading gradually within the light.

The time to leave had come, and after sunset was not the best time to continue providing psychological support.

“I should take my leave,” Heidi sighed softly, rising from the sofa. Her gaze fell on the bottle in Lawrence’s hand, “Please don’t forget to take your medicine—it will effectively help you resist the psychological impact of the Endless Sea.”

“Thank you, you’ve been a great help to me,” said Lawrence, grey-haired, standing up with a sincere smile, “I’ll see you out.”

Heidi was escorted to the door by the old captain, but before leaving, she couldn’t help but take another look at Lawrence and added, “Also, I have one last suggestion—although you’re still in good condition compared to other captains your age, you really have reached the age of retirement. You should consider handing the White Oak over to a reliable Successor.”

After saying what she wanted to say, she didn’t expect an answer from the old captain, merely bowed politely before saying goodbye and leaving.

The psychiatrist walked toward her car parked at the corner while Lawrence sighed softly, turning back into the living room.

Alice stood at the door frame not far away, holding her shoulders, and looked over with some displeasure.

She was a tall woman who, although advanced in years, still retained some of the grace of her youth. Standing there, she was like the renowned female explorer she had been aboard the ships on the Endless Sea.

But now, the explorer’s mood was clearly not good.

“Day in and day out, if it’s not the church scrutiny, then it’s the psychiatrist knocking. What kind of trouble have you stirred up outside?” she said with a glare and a loud voice, “And what’s with that bottle of medicine—you never mentioned that your mental state was so poor that you need medication to maintain it.”

“It’s not like I wanted to come across that Ghost Ship,” Lawrence glanced at the medicine bottle in his hand and shook his head helplessly, “but now, since the entire City-State has been affected by the Homeloss, nobody cares about the White Oak anymore. As for this medicine… it’s nothing serious. After all, it’s common to hear and see things occasionally after spending so much time at sea.”

His wife didn’t respond but just stared straight at him for a long time before finally sighing, “Aren’t you going to retire?”

“I want to search a bit more…” Lawrence said with less conviction, “After all… there was never a clear report of death…”

“You’re going to die doing this!” Her voice rose again as she pointed at Lawrence’s nose, “What is that? That’s a huge storm on the Endless Sea! After a storm passes, if a ship strays off course and loses contact, they are dead! Do you understand?

“Look at yourself. How many years have you been searching? You’ve surpassed the age for retirement. Those captains who started with you, the sensible ones, have already retired, now able to peacefully enjoy the savings from half a lifetime. Those without sense, like you, who forced themselves to continue, what’s become of them? Drooling in bed? Lying in the grave? Locked up in an asylum?

“I suggest you take this medicine now, and then go directly tomorrow to arrange a handover, pass the White Oak over to one of your trusted proteges you’ve groomed since they were young. Then come home honestly and live out the rest of your days on your pension. Don’t fucking wait until you also die in some storm. I can’t bear that worry…”

Lawrence listened to his wife’s increasingly loud reproach with a mild smile but didn’t argue. In the end, he placed the small brown medicine bottle on the coffee table: “Let me search one last time.”

Finally, his wife stopped, staring at the medicine bottle on the coffee table. After a long while, she sighed, her anger not completely faded, and muttered as if resigned, “Where are you searching this time?”

“North,” Lawrence said calmly, “the very first place. The stretch of sea where the ‘Black Oak’ encountered a storm. I’ve just accepted a contract to escort someone to Frost…”

His wife said nothing, just waved her hand silently in dismissal.

…

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Morning sunlight drenched the streets as Prandle gradually awoke from a night’s slumber.

Fenna got out of the car, squinting slightly in the sunlight. In her line of sight lay the familiar sign of the antique shop she had visited once before.

The shop was already open. A petite girl with black hair and a black dress was sprinkling water at the door, while another girl, not much older, was hanging a ‘Now Open’ sign at the doorway.

If memory served correctly, one of the girls was Sherry, and the other Nina—the niece of the shop owner.

Fenna rubbed her forehead, recalling the last visit to the antique shop. For some reason, she felt that some details were now rather hazy in her memory.

This convinced her even more that she should come by to visit today.

The voice of a subordinate came from the car: “How long will you be absent?”

“Within an hour,” Fenna answered, “just wait here for me.”

“Alright,” the young guard driving the car nodded inside but still reminded her with some concern, “Please be mindful of the time. Today is the day Storm Cathedral arrives in Prandle, and you need to be present in person for the welcoming ceremony; Bishop Valentin specifically mentioned it. Also, this visit wasn’t in our schedule…”

“Alright, alright, you’ve told me several times,” Fenna waved her hand, with a somewhat helpless expression, “I know everyone is tense about the Storm Cathedral docking this time. I’ll keep an eye on the time.”

“…Okay. I’ll wait for you here.”