Touching the Flame

Ever since he had personally taken the helm, Duncan had gained true control over the Lost Homeland and could sense every movement aboard the ship—but even so, out of caution, he had ordered Goat Head to keep watch over the "Cursed Doll" at all times.

He knew he was no expert in mysticism and knew very little about this world's supernatural forces. A doll that could walk and talk was far beyond his understanding. Alice's words and behavior might seem harmless, but if Miss Doll possessed some... invisible "influence," he would be very likely to miss it.

Goat Head was more professional than he was in that regard.

And even setting that aside, Duncan knew he could not keep watch over the Lost Homeland at every moment. Though he had now decided to survive in this world "on this side," he might still need to return to the world on the other side of the Gate when necessary. At that point, he might not be able to sense what was happening aboard the Lost Homeland.

At that thought, Duncan's expression shifted slightly. Without revealing anything, he glanced at Goat Head by the edge of the Navigation Table, and the obsidian-carved eyeballs returned his gaze with hollow stares.

When he returned to the other side of the Gate, when he went back to that bachelor apartment of his... had this Goat Head noticed anything? What had been happening aboard the Lost Homeland while he was away?

The question that had suddenly surfaced left Duncan somewhat irritated, but under Goat Head's hollow stare, he showed nothing. Instead, he spared a sliver of attention to check on Alice.

Of course, he had no interest in peeping—not even when the other party was a "nonhuman entity." He merely sensed the area below deck in broad terms, but even through his connection with the Lost Homeland, he could at least determine Alice's current location and whether she was attempting to damage anything.

After all, beneath Miss Doll's harmless, elegant, beautiful exterior lay the essence of a Cursed Doll—a dangerous entity ordinary people in this world called "Anomaly 099."

She was still in her room, perhaps genuinely studying its furnishings and arranging a place to rest.

Duncan relaxed slightly. At the same time, Goat Head beside him suddenly spoke. "Captain, what are your plans next? If you are feeling bored, your loyal..."

"Shut up." Duncan glanced at Goat Head, then placed both hands on the edge of the Navigation Table. As his thoughts shifted, the sensation of gripping the helm returned, and green flames once again flowed over him like water.

Amid the burning flames, Duncan's body transformed into a spirit body once more. The spilling fire spread along the Navigation Table, out of the Captain's Cabin, across the upper deck, up the masts and rigging, making the translucent Spirit Body Sail on the masts billow in the wind.

As the main sails, Side Sails, and Jib Sails adjusted their angles deftly in the sea breeze, the massive three-masted sailing ship began to accelerate slowly across the boundless ocean. Duncan's gaze fell upon the chart before him, and just as expected, the grayish-white mist covering it changed at once—the silhouette representing the Lost Homeland was slowly moving forward, while the mist around it dispersed.

After a brief moment of thought, he began trying to focus his attention on the chart. Ghostly green flames enveloped the Navigation Table, conveying the captain's will like extensions of Duncan's limbs. In this subtle state of "connection," Duncan finally vaguely realized the secrets hidden within this chart, which was clearly another supernatural object.

With a thought, the silhouette of the Lost Homeland on the chart instantly enlarged slightly, then immediately shrank back to its original size.

Duncan was "zooming" the image displayed by the chart, and this wild idea succeeded. Though no matter how he zoomed, all he could currently see beyond the edges of the chart was mist, Duncan was now certain that this chart could record and display every inch of ocean the Lost Homeland had explored, accurately and in real time showing the details around the ship.

Under Goat Head's hollow gaze, Duncan's expression did not change. He looked as cold and serious as a true captain carefully examining a chart, yet faint excitement welled up within him.

His gaze swept over the flames rising from his body, while his consciousness sensed the condition of the Lost Homeland and the changes occurring on the chart.

These strange green flames truly were the key to controlling the Lost Homeland—and the key to controlling many of the strange objects aboard this ship!

Perhaps... this was the power of the "captain"?

Duncan studied the power of the flames. He understood clearly that if he wanted to truly control this ship and use it as the foundation for surviving well in this bizarre world, he had to understand his own abilities.

First, he had to gain complete mastery over these flames.

As for the "plans next" that Goat Head had mentioned earlier...

Duncan looked at the slowly changing chart before him, at the white mist gradually dispersing around the silhouette of the Lost Homeland. His plan was simple.

Since he did not know enough about this world, and since the entire map was covered in fog, uncovering the map first was definitely the right move.

After all, sailing a ship was meant for going out and having fun.

Besides, Captain Duncan's image in the minds of the locals in this world was already that of a world boss who roamed wild regions everywhere. Even if he and the Lost Homeland honestly remained at sea, it would not improve their reputation in the slightest.

As for whether aimlessly sailing across the ocean might involve risks, Duncan saw it this way—before he had personally "taken the helm," this ship had already been drifting around everywhere. The Lost Homeland had never dropped anchor or docked, so where would any "additional risk" come from?

Compared with that previous blind drifting, sailing under full canvas could at least disperse the fog on the chart. That counted as ending their former state of complete passivity, trapped in the mist.

Duncan stood up from behind the Navigation Table, and the green flames around him gradually faded. Yet in his senses, the translucent Spirit Body Sail on the Lost Homeland's masts did not vanish with them. Some of the green fire clinging to the masts and rigging continued to burn, carrying out the captain's will.

Combined with what he had observed while "taking the helm" earlier, Duncan faintly understood.

Although the Spirit Body Sail had only risen in flames after he took the helm, neither those immense sails nor the many things operating automatically aboard this ship depended on the captain's own power—the ghost ship had its own source of motive force.

Though he still did not know what kind of "energy" powered this ship, it was clear that all he needed to do as captain was issue orders to it.

Then the ship would naturally and faithfully carry out the captain's commands.

Duncan left the Navigation Table and turned to look at the small door at the deepest end of the Captain's Cabin.

Behind that door was his private Bedroom as captain. During his exploration of the ship over the first few days, he had always treated that room as a resting place.

Now, he needed a relatively quiet environment to thoroughly study what else he could do as captain of the Lost Homeland.

But before that, someone had to keep watch over this ship, which had already entered sailing mode.

He looked at the wooden Goat Head at the edge of the Navigation Table and said in a matter-of-fact tone, "You take the helm."

"Huh?" Goat Head froze for a moment, sounding somewhat surprised. "But Captain, you..."

"I have things to do. Do not disturb me for a while." Duncan seemed entirely unconcerned with what Goat Head had been about to say, giving the order as naturally as could be. Yet through another layer of his perception, through the information carried by the green flames spreading across the deck outside the cabin, he could clearly see the various... connections hidden deep within the ship.

The masts, rigging, sails, helm, cannons...

Everything was invisibly linked. Some kind of "network," like nerves or blood vessels, ran through the ship, and all these "connections" ultimately converged in the Captain's Cabin.

Goat Head was faintly connected to all of it.

Perhaps this mysterious and bizarre Goat Head was the Lost Homeland itself? Or perhaps it was some kind of "control mechanism" meant to take over the whole ship in an emergency?

Duncan was not this ship's builder, so naturally he did not know how it worked. But he believed that if he were the real Captain Duncan, he would surely know what Goat Head was capable of.

From another perspective, Goat Head had always called itself the "First Mate," so naturally it should be able to take the helm in the captain's place when the situation required it.

Duncan needed to take a small risk and make arrangements he had never made before, but which a real captain would have to know about and would surely make.

After all, captains needed rest too.

One second later, Goat Head spoke in a pleased and noisy voice. "Ah, yes, Captain. Please go about your work without worry. Your loyal..."

Duncan ignored it, merely waving a hand before turning and entering the Bedroom at the deepest end of the Captain's Cabin. He casually shut the door behind him.