In the spacious and magnificent assembly hall, whose roof and walls are decorated with many reliefs and patterns related to the Holy Lord of the Deep, the deformed creatures called "saints" are sitting silently on the platform.
The "crown" made of interwoven black bones stood on a high platform. Between the entangled nerves and blood vessels at the bottom of the crown were half-open and half-closed eyes. The chilling brain lay quietly in the center of the crown, occasionally making low and vague sounds while squirming slightly.
The lower-level priests and ordinary believers in the hall remained silent, standing cautiously and nervously in the corners. They kept a distance from the high platform in the center, and did not even dare to look directly at the dormant eyestalks of the saints. A low and depressing atmosphere enveloped the place, and even the air seemed to be frozen.
Everyone knows that the Saints are in a bad mood - and this bad mood is obviously related to the sudden end of recent operations.
The order to terminate the operation was of course issued by the Saint himself, but it was obvious that this was not the result that the Lord was happy to see—it was not the direction that should have led.
This silence and repression lasted for an unknown amount of time, before a voice suddenly appeared in the ears of every lower-level priest and ordinary believer: "Get out."
Everyone seemed to be pardoned - in almost the blink of an eye, the Annihilation Cultists gathered in the hall left the assembly hall through the various doors, and in the end only the upper-level priests beside the podium were left.
"Saint," a high-ranking priest wearing a black coat and with neatly combed gray hair turned to the platform and broke the silence, "We have received news from Moko and Siprod that the elves that had fallen into a coma and dissipated in various city-states have gradually recovered."
"…The entrance to the dreamland has disappeared, and the dream skull no longer responds to 'blood food,'" another high-ranking priest said immediately. "Judging from the current situation, the dream of the nameless one may have completely disappeared - but until now, the followers of the sun have not contacted us."
"They won't contact us anymore," the skeleton crown on the platform finally responded, "The Son of the Sun who led this operation has fallen. This loss is enough to plunge those followers into a long-term chaos... Without the core 'son', this branch that cooperates with us will die out soon."
The high-ranking priests around the platform were in an uproar. After a brief moment of shock, the gray-haired priest finally couldn't help but speak: "The Sun Child has fallen? How did it die? Was it something from the depths of the dream..."
"I don't know. I only saw its brilliance suddenly extinguished at the end of its destiny, and a large shadow spread from where it was extinguished. Until now, this shadow is still spreading towards us."
The high-ranking priests looked at each other in bewilderment. After a moment of silence, one of them hesitated and said, "You mean... after the fall of the Son of the Sun, the shadow that killed it is still chasing us?"
"There is a shadow hanging over our fate," the saint began slowly, "and it has not yet dissipated."
"We are now far away from all city-states and major shipping routes," another senior priest said hesitantly, "and have also successfully avoided the patrol fleets of the four major churches on the border..."
Another priest immediately spoke up: "I don't know what those lackeys of the Four Gods have been doing recently. They have concentrated a large number of fleets near the eastern border, which has weakened the patrol force in other border waters. We passed through smoothly and should be able to return to the 'Holy Land' soon..."
Another priest echoed, "The Holy Land is shrouded in thick fog at the border, and with the blessing of the Lord there, even the pilgrimage ark of the four gods' lackeys cannot break through..."
The upper-level priests spoke one after another, but the "saint" on the platform remained silent. Gradually, the voices around the platform quieted down, and the priests wisely kept their mouths shut.
"'He' is coming."
After an unknown amount of time, the saint's deep voice suddenly reached everyone's ears.
Along with these few short words, it was as if an invisible cold wind suddenly blew through the entire hall—the wind was filled with fear and terror that was almost contagious, causing the Annihilation Priests, whose hearts had long been as cold and hard as black iron, to shiver subconsciously.
A high-ranking priest understood what the Saint meant almost instantly: "You mean... the ghost that returned from the warp..."
"How is that possible?! We haven't had any dealings with his followers since then..." Another priest said in a lost voice, "We evacuated the place before the Nameless Man's Dream experienced any greater changes, and we should have cut off contact with him long ago..."
The Saint did not respond to the cowardly and incompetent voices around him that were filled with tension and fear. He just slowly raised the eye stalks around him. At the end of those wriggling tentacles, the eyeballs looked around the hall, and seemed to look around the entire ship through the walls of the hall.
The gloom of fate was reflected in his deformed and swollen eyeballs. A dark green flame burned in the shadows and gradually appeared on the sea surface in the near future. He saw the approach of death and fear - in the near future, most of the people on this ship would die.
As for the other part, their fate is worse than death.
He could already smell the blood boiling in the flames and hear the cries that would be heard soon - but what was even more desperate than the impending deaths was that the shadow would continue to spread along this route. This ship was not the destination, but only a stopover for the spread of that shadow.
The Saint slowly retracted his eyestalks.
In the limited future that he could see, he had made many careful choices. These choices successfully allowed him to gain increasingly powerful strength and made the ship a symbol of the will of the "Lord". But this time, he found that no matter what choice he made, the haze would always follow him like a shadow.
Whether it is to end the actions in the Nameless Man's dream ahead of time, change the course of this "holy ship", or isolate the breath of the entire ship, it is impossible to get rid of the terrible future.
The shadow surrounded him, surrounded everyone, even... as if it was already on this ship.
Already on this ship
In the skeleton crown on the platform, the swollen and wriggling brain suddenly stopped for a moment, and then the biological tissue around it gradually expanded.
With a flash of enlightenment in his heart, the saint noticed that the ubiquitous shadows began to weaken, and on the sea not far away, the green flames that emerged from the darkness seemed to be gradually dissipating.
“… I got you,” he muttered softly.
A high-ranking priest reacted instantly: "What did you find?"
"... bring all those who have entered the Nameless One's Dream to the hall," the Saint began slowly. At the same time, part of his eyes observed that the haze permeating the ship and the breath of death from the future were continuing to weaken. "Especially those who have had contact with the girl who traveled with the Deep Hound... Richard, yes, bring him here... Don't alarm him, don't alert him, and lead him over slowly."
The haze in the hall completely dissipated, the breath of death coming from all over the ship was weakening rapidly, and soon on the sea, the green flames returned to the shadows again.
The shadow was indeed on the boat, and I once again realized that tiny "turning point" in my fate - the right choice, a good result.
A high-ranking priest quickly left the assembly hall and went to carry out the saint's order.
Then the saint on the platform was silent for a moment, and then ordered: "Also, stop the boat."
The haze of fate has temporarily dissipated, but a strange uneasiness still lingers in his heart, as if things will not end so simply. The ghost that returned from the subspace... may not be so easy to get rid of.
Driven by the necessary caution, the saint decided to stay on this sea for a while. Before making sure that the hidden dangers have been completely eliminated, the ship cannot continue to approach the holy land...
A minute later, Richard woke up from a brief but confusing nightmare.
A cold wind blew across his neck from nowhere. An inaudible, tiny whisper came from the corner of the room. The scene in the nightmare had dissipated from his mind. He could not remember what he had dreamed about just now. He only felt a slowly fading, hangover-like palpitation lingering in his heart. As time passed, it gradually turned into a hazy impression.
"She's coming to visit..."
A faint voice, as if emerging from within his own mind, rang out.
Richard sat upright in bed.
Small, indistinct whispers could be heard from every corner of the room. The lights on the nearby wall were swaying, casting many mottled and strange shadows that looked like crisscrossing mycelium, or like an invisible spider web covering the entire cabin.
"It's time to greet the hostess... the lovely doll..."
The small voice whispered again.
Richard blinked slowly, and the numbness and dullness in his mind seemed to gradually subside. He left the bed and slowly walked to the locker beside him. After opening the locker and searching inside for a while, he finally found what he needed.
It was a large roll of paper and several pencils.
These are the materials used for practicing tracing runes on a daily basis.
After looking at these things quietly for a few seconds, a smile finally appeared on Richard's face. He came to the bed with a pen and paper, threw his bedding on the ground beside him without hesitation, and directly spread the large roll of paper on the flat bed board.
"They're coming for you... don't waste time."
Richard softly repeated the whispers in his head, a smile on his lips, and leaned over with pencil in hand, sketching with skill.
A lady's beautiful face appeared in his mind and gradually fell on paper.
(End of this chapter)