The Captain Sets Foot on Land

When the pigeon said that, both its words and tone were as absurd, ridiculous, and stupid as ever.

But now it was an undead bird wreathed in ghostly flames, its translucent flesh revealing bones and tendons coursing with fire. Its cry was mixed with crackling bursts, like the wails of wronged souls leaking out when the gates of the underworld opened.

This proved that, more often than not, there was not much distance between the sinister and the ridiculous.

The Spirit Body Fire winding around Duncan still burned. He watched the three cultists vanish before his eyes, yet he could not determine the principle behind it.

He only knew that this was Ai Yi's ability.

A few seconds later, once he was certain the three cultists truly were not coming back, he turned his head slightly and asked the pigeon on his shoulder, "...Where did you send them?"

Ai Yi flapped its wings and used its beak to preen the feathers that had become translucent. After processing the question for a moment, it suddenly said, "Sent back into the shadows!"

Duncan frowned. He had begun learning to understand what Ai Yi truly meant by its words these past few days. "...You mean you exiled them to some kind of... parallel space? Or turned them into something that can't be touched?"

The pigeon raised its head, its two eyes wandering uncertainly as it looked at Duncan. "Coo coo!"

It had started pretending to be a real pigeon again.

But Duncan believed he had figured out the truth. He pressed a finger against Ai Yi's head, then once more surveyed the dimly lit "shelter."

In the swaying light and shadows cast by the oil lamp, everything in the small room was plain to see. The Sun worshippers who had once hidden here had completely vanished from this world. Now, only a Ghost Captain who had descended by occupying a cultist's corpse, and his pigeon, stood here.

Yet Duncan had a vague feeling—he could somehow sense that the three cultists were still here, right beside him. They were trapped in this room, in the crevice of a dimension that no method could detect or reach.

He could even "feel" the cultists shouting and struggling futilely. He could feel their desperation as they tried to touch the Real World again, only to be permanently shut out by an invisible barrier.

That feeling lingered invisibly until, at one moment, Duncan saw proof of it: during one sway of the oil lamp, amid a perfectly timed overlap of light and shadow, he suddenly saw a mark on a nearby wall. It looked as if it had been left by a short sword striking with force—but when he looked again, the lamp flame swayed once more, and the mark vanished without a trace.

That was the final contact between the three Sun worshippers and the Real World.

Duncan let out a soft breath, turned, and left the room with the pigeon.

Outside the abandoned lounge was a passage much narrower than the sewer corridor he had seen before. The deep, long tunnel extended in both directions. One end led to a fork, while the other connected to an upward-sloping ramp.

Even in this abandoned area, the city's administrators had clearly maintained these underground facilities at the most basic level—at the very least, the gas lamps on both sides of the passage were still lit.

Duncan briefly judged the direction of the tunnel, then sorted through the remaining fragments of memory in his mind to chart a route to the surface. Soon, he stepped toward the upward-sloping ramp.

He walked faster and faster.

Fresh air appeared. A cool breeze blew Duncan's hair toward his face. He heard vague, distant sounds—the rumble of factory facilities on the surface operating through the night, and the even more distant sound of waves... the sound of broken waves striking the reefs along the shore at night.

Duncan nearly broke into a run.

Pigeon Ai Yi, whose body had returned to normal after shedding the Spectral Flame, flapped its wings on his shoulder and cried happily, "The times are calling! The times are calling!"

Duncan suddenly stopped and stared into the pigeon's eyes. "Don't talk casually once we're outside—normal pigeons don't talk."

Ai Yi thought for a moment, then flapped its wings hard. "Aye captain!"

Duncan was immediately surprised. The pigeon had actually responded to him correctly for once. He had no idea whether it was a coincidence or something else—but he quickly stopped thinking about it.

He had to prepare to face this world.

He definitely could not go outside wearing the black robe. In the memories he had devoured, such suspicious robes were only worn during the Sun worshippers' secret rituals. On the streets of the surface city, showing up in those clothes would get him tied to a tree and beaten by seven or eight guards.

Pland City-State enforced a rather strict curfew. Wandering about at night seemed quite dangerous. Ordinary people needed to carry travel documents and register in advance if they wished to go out at night—the cultist whose body Duncan occupied clearly had no such legal paperwork, so he would have to avoid the night patrols if he wanted to move through the city.

Those responsible for maintaining order in the city at night were called "Guardians." They seemed to be an armed force under the Deep Sea Church. In the memories he had devoured, the body's original owner held deep wariness and hostility toward those armed priests...

Duncan rapidly organized the fragments of memory in his mind. Since they had been inherited from a corpse, most of them were chaotic and blurry. He could not piece together the complete life of a "member of modern civilized society," nor could he assemble all the information about Pland City-State. Even so, the most basic parts were enough to give him a rough idea of what to do next.

First, he took off his black robe before the ramp leading to the surface—the clothes beneath it were ordinary enough that they would not attract suspicion outside.

He considered burning the robe, but the flames and smoke might instead draw the attention of the night patrols. In the end, he merely rolled it up and hid it in a corner near the ramp.

The Sun Amulet was also something that could bring trouble, but it might contain valuable information as well. After hesitating again and again, Duncan still decided to take it with him—when he returned to the Lost Homeland, he could conduct another test with the amulet and see whether Ai Yi could bring it back too.

He could study the thing safely aboard the Lost Homeland.

After dealing with the traces of the hidden robe and roughly tidying his appearance, making himself look as much like an ordinary citizen as possible rather than a bedraggled cultist hiding in the sewers, he finally stepped onto the ramp.

The remaining road was not far.

Duncan hurried along the ramp. Ever fresher air filled his lungs, and he could now clearly hear the factories and the waves in the distance. A few minutes later, he even saw a cold radiance appear on the steps ahead.

He took several quick steps forward, and that cold light finally enveloped him completely.

He had reached the surface.

Solid, stable earth, bathed in pale Faint Light.

Duncan's eyes widened. He saw a city—a city standing upon the Boundless Sea, a city representing mortal civilization. A massive scar in the sky stretched across above it, illuminating the tightly packed rooftops, the High Tower, and the buildings farther away. Not far ahead lay a somewhat dilapidated outer district, while on the distant high ground stood many grand, magnificent structures—the Upper City, where the Grand Cathedral and City Hall were located.

Duncan suddenly laughed. He made no sound, yet he laughed until he could barely catch his breath.

But after only a moment, he forcibly stopped himself. He took a deep breath in the cold night wind, then strode toward a direction from his memories.

Cultists had their own "normal lives" too. Aside from the few "priests" whose entire profession was harming the world, the Sun Church, like most other cults, relied on vast numbers of ordinary people to sustain its operations—these deluded rank-and-file believers were mostly poor citizens from the city's lower classes, neglected elderly people, inexperienced youths, or, like the body Duncan now occupied...

An unnoticed ordinary man, gravely ill, running a fraudulent antique shop in the Lower City and struggling against life and taxes.

The miserable life of the antique shop owner named Roen had come to an end. His debt to some evil god had been written off along with his final breath, but he had still left behind a place in this world... and Duncan liked that place very much.