The door closed behind him, blocking Goat Head's hollow stare.
Yet Duncan could still clearly sense the Lost Homeland, every subtle change aboard the ghost ship. Through that empathy, like an extension of his own limbs, he "saw" the Lost Homeland's sails precisely adjusting their angles in the sea wind, while the black wheel at the stern helm turned slightly, further steadying the ship amid the waves.
Just as he had expected, Goat Head had temporarily taken over the helm and begun diligently fulfilling its duties as first mate—but Duncan could take personal control of the ship again at any time.
Compared to when he steered it himself, the Lost Homeland was somewhat less nimble and slower, but Duncan's main goal now was to further disperse the fog on the sea chart. He had no specific destination or route to begin with, so he did not mind the difference.
After confirming that Goat Head was not making any unusual moves and that the Gothic doll below deck was obediently staying in her room, Duncan let out a soft breath and glanced around the not-too-large room.
This was his private captain's cabin, as well as the most comfortable and refined room aboard the Lost Homeland. Besides a soft bed, there was a classical wardrobe against the wall directly opposite the door, along with a shelf crowded with strange and curious objects. Across from the bed stood a dark brown desk, though there were no books on it—only a few decorations and tools for writing and drawing.
There was a window beside the desk that looked directly out over the distant sea, and several hooks hung on the wall beside it—the pirate sword and flintlock pistol Duncan now carried had previously hung from those hooks.
Duncan walked to the desk, placed his sword and flintlock where he could easily reach them, then opened a drawer and checked the gunpowder and lead shot stored in a wooden box.
A small Brass Compass lay beside the lead shot and powder pouch. Duncan picked it up and saw that the needle beneath its glass casing was still spinning wildly, as though drawn by some invisible chaotic force field. A line of tiny words was engraved on the bottom of the compass—
"We are all Lost Ones."
Duncan casually toyed with the compass in his hand, watching its needle spin around like a drunk.
Everything here had already been inspected many times. He had discovered this room during his earliest explorations, and the things within it, including that message, must have been left behind by the real Captain Duncan.
After reviewing everything he knew so far, Duncan exhaled, casually set the compass on the desk, and raised his right hand to rub his fingertips together.
A tiny green flame ignited at his fingertips. In its reflection, half of Duncan's palm immediately took on the transparent, illusory texture of a spirit body—but under his conscious control, the flame did not spread everywhere as it had before. Instead, it hovered above his finger like a candle flame.
Once the flame stabilized, Duncan brought his other hand close to feel it, then took a quill from nearby and touched the flame with its tail end.
He could feel no heat, and the quill did not ignite. Only a faint dark green color spread across its shaft, causing the feather pen to emit a dim glow.
But Duncan did not "feel" any feedback from the quill, completely unlike when he had touched the sea chart and helm with the flame.
Duncan silently noted this new observation—this Spirit Body Fire had no temperature and would not ignite objects. Moreover, it was highly likely that it could only connect with "anomalous" things aboard the Lost Homeland, producing no response at all from ordinary objects.
Then what if it encountered an "anomalous" object from outside the Lost Homeland... would the flame react?
Duncan pondered this. For a moment, the image of a certain Gothic doll suddenly surfaced in his mind—Alice seemed to be an "Anomaly 099" from outside the Lost Homeland, didn't she?
Would she be affected by this Spirit Body Fire?
But he only considered it for a moment before tossing the far-fetched thought aside.
Even if Alice was not human, even if she was the cursed "Anomaly 099," she was still an independent individual who could speak, walk, and think for herself. She was also now a "crew member" of the Lost Homeland, and Duncan had already instinctively begun treating her as a person.
He could not accept using a living person to test his flame—after all, he still did not know what long-term effects the flame might have on affected "anomalies," or whether it was harmful.
Duncan carried out several more tests, examining the flame's properties while determining whether any of the objects in the cabin possessed supernatural attributes.
At last, his gaze fell upon the small Brass Compass bearing the "message."
The Brass Compass lay quietly on the desk, its needle spinning wildly beneath the glass casing. Yet perhaps it was only an illusion, but when Duncan kept the flame going and cast a "malicious" gaze at the needle, it seemed to freeze for an instant.
Then it resumed spinning aimlessly as though nothing had happened.
Duncan: "..."
That thing had definitely reacted to his gaze just now!
He had originally been somewhat wary of the compass. After all, it bore the handwriting of the "real Captain Duncan," and he worried that the dead Ghost Captain might have left some power or "trap" in this personal item to guard against thieves. That was why he had never tested the compass with the flame. But after seeing its reaction, he suddenly made up his mind.
Duncan reached out and picked up the compass. Its icy touch reached his fingertips. After glancing at the needle, still spinning wildly, he directly placed the thing into his right hand, which maintained the Spirit Body Fire, and slowly clenched his fist.
The Eerie Green Flame flowed instantly like burning grease, spreading through the gaps between his fingers. A dim fire swiftly ignited across the compass's surface, within which countless phantoms seemed to rise and vanish. Then, in the next instant, the needle that had been spinning wildly abruptly stopped and pointed straight toward some direction in the vast sea.
Duncan's heart stirred. In that instant, he clearly felt the "feedback" from the compass and confirmed that this was indeed an "anomalous item" that could be controlled by the Spirit Body Fire. But before he could carefully sense the details within that feedback, a sudden force of "attraction" struck him!
Duncan only felt his body sway. The next second, his vision blurred, and the furnishings of the captain's cabin had somehow turned into nothingness. The surrounding walls and ceiling also crumbled and vanished like snowflakes in the blink of an eye. Boundless dimness filled his vision amid the scattering light and shadows.
Duncan stood at the center of that dimness in astonishment, alarm bells ringing in his mind. His first reaction was to reach for the flintlock and sword beside him, but the next second, he discovered that only the Brass Compass remained at his side—it was still tightly clenched in his hand.
Duncan blinked. Before his eyes, countless fine, threadlike rays of light suddenly spread out around the Brass Compass.
The rays stretched and intertwined through the darkness, expanding endlessly like a woven net. Amid that interwoven light, innumerable specks of light emerged. Some drifted sparsely, while others gathered like rivers. Against the backdrop of the network of light, they shone as brilliantly as a galaxy.
Duncan watched the strange phenomenon before him in confusion. He was wary and somewhat uneasy, but for some reason, he felt no sense of danger. In fact...
Amid that dim web of light and starlike specks, he instead felt a long-lost sense of safety and comfort.
The next second, an unusual sensation suddenly came over him. Duncan's gaze was involuntarily drawn to a cluster of starlight within the interwoven net. Looking at it, he felt that the starlight was swaying precariously, as though it was about to fall completely into the darkness.
He instinctively reached toward it.
At that moment, an enormous pulling force struck—Duncan felt as though even his soul had taken flight. He uncontrollably rushed toward that starlight about to fall into darkness, while the dense web of light woven by the compass rapidly receded from view, and the galaxy formed by surrounding starlight suddenly began to twist and churn!
As he sped through it, he instinctively looked at his right hand, which had been clutching the compass, only to see that the compass had somehow disappeared. At the same time, just before he touched that dim starlight, he caught sight of a shadow suddenly gathering in the darkness from the corner of his eye.
The shadow emerged as naturally as though it had always been at his side, falling rapidly with him toward that dim point of light.
Duncan could only vaguely make out that the shadow seemed to be a bird with its wings spread in flight. Before he could see any details, darkness fell over his vision.
The heavy sensation of the Real World came through his limbs, along with the stench of rotting flesh and the harsh sound of heavy iron chains dragging across the ground.
Holy crap!
Before you continue