"Snapped!"
The document in his hand was slammed on the table, and Lister suddenly stood up from behind his desk—in fact, he almost jumped up—the port defense commander stared at his subordinates in front of him: "Say it again?! What did you say about Dagger Island?!"
"Dagger Island... Dagger Island has disappeared!" The soldier who came to deliver the message stuttered. It was obvious that even as a well-trained soldier, he had difficulty controlling his state in this situation. "Just now, we observed a series of explosions on Dagger Island. It is suspected that the last remaining people on the island detonated various facilities... Then the fleet on alert in the nearby sea watched the island sink rapidly and disappear on the sea.
"Those fleets were not affected?" Lister immediately frowned, feeling something was wrong.
"No," the soldier shook his head. "Dagger Island's sinking hardly caused any changes in the sea surface. The report from the front said... the island seemed to have melted silently into the sea."
Liszt's expression became extremely terrifying. He was silent for a few seconds and looked up at the gatekeeper who was still standing in the office: "Ms. Agatha, as far as you know, is there any known magic, miracle or supernatural item that can cause this phenomenon?"
"No," Agatha shook her head without hesitation, "Abnormal changes of this scale are beyond the scope of magic, and should be classified as miracles - or some kind of vision."
"...Anyway, we are in big trouble. The investigation has not even begun, and the situation on Dagger Island is not clear, but the island has disappeared into the sea. The City Hall will not like this news." Lister frowned and tapped the table with his fingers. Then, as if remembering something, he suddenly looked up at the soldier, "By the way, what is the reaction from the Sea Fog Fleet?"
"They are still in the old position and have not crossed the offshore cordon," the soldier replied immediately, "but after Dagger Island disappeared, two of their speedboats briefly approached that area—stayed for about ten minutes, and then quickly returned."
"It sounds like they are observing the situation... It seems that this matter is also beyond their expectations," Lister said slowly, "Damn it, it seems that we have to talk to that big pirate."
"The Cathedral will also take action," Agatha continued. "At this point, the exploration plan for Dagger Island is meaningless. We will shift our efforts to conduct a comprehensive investigation of the city. Now the defenders have found some clues about the Annihilation Cultists and several possible escape points. I will personally lead the team to deal with them."
"I hope you can gain something, Madam Gatekeeper," Liszt raised his head and looked at the black-clad priestess in front of him, "Things are getting out of control. We need the assistance of the extraordinary realm more than ever, and the investigation of the cathedral is progressing very slowly."
"We will do our best."
Agatha nodded slightly, then raised her cane and tapped it twice on the floor. With the sound of the cane hitting the ground, her figure suddenly turned into a gust of gray wind, then swirled and sank directly into a pale crack that appeared out of thin air on the floor.
Liszt looked at the place where Agatha disappeared. After the crack closed, he sighed and sat back heavily in his chair. At the same time, he ordered the soldier, "Go out and close the door."
Next, he should write a "dispatch" to the city hall as soon as possible to explain the strange things that happened at the doorstep of the city-state.
The staff of the city-state port are guiding the ships to dock. Those people in black or blue uniforms are standing on the concrete dock, doing their own things in the cold wind. They don't communicate much with each other and appear silent and busy.
A little further away, you can see several other ships anchored. It seems that those ships have been docked here for a long time. Only a few people can be seen on the ships. Their loading and unloading or supply operations have been completed, and they may be waiting for the next step of departure procedures.
Further away from the dock area, you can see the main road leading to the city - a wide road stretching towards the tall buildings in the distance. The gas lamps on both sides of the road have not yet been lit, but as it is approaching night, there are not many pedestrians on the road. Only the occasional
Some carriages were seen hurrying along the road which was gradually becoming darker.
Lawrence stood at the edge of the deck, looking at the city-state buildings in the distance.
This was not his first time in Frost, but it had been some years since his last visit. The long period of time and the decline in memory due to age had made it difficult for him to remember what the city looked like in the past. Now, looking at the spires and towers standing in the dusk in the distance, he felt they were extremely unfamiliar.
But no matter what, the White Oak finally docked safely in this city-state - although the weather was extremely bad along the way, it did not encounter any terrible situations such as storms.
Hearing footsteps from behind, the old captain turned around and saw it was his first mate.
"The inspection is almost over," the first mate said. "Everyone asked me if we can go into the city today. We have been so bored on the boat all the way here."
Lawrence looked up at the sky. Although the Creation of the World had not yet appeared, the remaining afterglow in the sky was already dim and about to disappear. He frowned and shook his head, "It's too late. The city is under curfew after nightfall. There is nowhere to go after getting off the ship now. Everyone stays on the ship. I will go to the Port Affairs Bureau to handle the remaining procedures. The others can go ashore tomorrow morning."
"Okay, I'll tell them the news," the first mate laughed, and then asked casually, "But are you going alone? Do you want to send two people to accompany you?"
“No need. I can see the door of the port office—right next to the dock,” Lawrence waved his hand and pointed to a light not far from the shore. “After the port inspectors leave, make sure to check all the warehouses on the ship, especially the bottom hold where the holy relics are kept and the sealed rooms, in case any careless person has touched the settings.”
"Yes, Captain."
The first mate left, and Lawrence took a deep breath in the night breeze. The cold wind from the northern seas rushed into his lungs, startling him and making him sober up.
Then the old captain shook his head, complained a little about the bad weather here, and walked towards the stairs not far away.
A figure was standing at the stairs, with his arms folded in the dim light, looking at Lawrence calmly.
Lawrence paused a little hesitantly, and after a moment's identification, he hesitated and said, "...Martha? Why are you here too?"
"If I were you, I wouldn't have any extra questions at this time, but would leave here immediately," the female navigator crossed her arms and looked at the old captain in front of her, with helplessness in her tone, "Your vigilance has dropped, Lawrence."
"Martha, I..." Lawrence subconsciously took a half step forward. He vaguely felt that something was wrong, but his throat was blocked by thousands of words. He could only reach out his hand slowly, "I miss you a little bit... How have you been recently?"
Martha did not answer him. The female navigator just gave him a calm look, but her sight seemed to be focused on a farther place. In the gentle sea breeze and the sound of small waves, she slowly hummed -
"The sails are hoisted, the sailors who have left home continue to move forward...
“In the storm and the noise, we are only one plank away from death.
"Reef the jib, hoist the mainsail, let go the ropes, hold on to the side - we are already in the middle of the sea..."
Martha's voice gradually became lower and lower. She finally stopped and focused her eyes on Lawrence. She said softly as if she was talking to herself: "Lawrence, be careful, you are in the middle of the sea."
Lawrence suddenly took a breath, and the cold air made his head refreshed. Then, as if he remembered something, he hurriedly reached out to his chest and rummaged in his pocket quickly and hurriedly.
Martha took a step forward and slowly walked towards him.
"Lawrence, how come you are so old?" The female navigator stretched out her hand, her voice hoarse but with a hint of tenderness. She still looked young, and although her face was a little weathered by life at sea, she was still as beautiful as Laurence remembered. "It's been many years, hasn't it? You are no longer young... ...and neither am I..."
"Martha..." Lawrence's throat moved. He felt his fingers were about to touch the small bottle, but he missed it several times.
He could almost smell Martha's scent—that familiar scent, with a hint of lemon, her favorite scent.
He touched the small bottle.
"Martha..."
He took it in his hand, but his feet were rooted to the deck. He watched the person in his memory reach out to him, just like he had seen in countless dreams. The hand, with a familiar warmth, touched the ends of his hair little by little. He saw the person in his memory smile again, as if he wanted to tell him about a longing he had not seen for many years...
"Martha, I'm sorry."
Lawrence clenched the medicine bottle and poured the bitter medicine into his mouth.
Martha disappeared.