Chapter 19 Inquiries and Diving Equipment

As night fell, Morris was summoned to the captain's cabin.

Duncan sat behind the chart table with a serious expression. The table beside him was piled with a jumble of books – all of which had been brought aboard from Prand and Frost, along with some books obtained from the Sea Fog Fleet.

After confirming that reading at sea was "harmless," the ship's collection of books had been steadily increasing.

Morris glanced at the table and noticed that the books were categorized in a variety of ways – there were strange tales from various city-states, authoritative historical materials, and even "dangerous readings" related to doomsday theories and apocalyptic doctrines.

A sense of curiosity and unease arose in the old scholar's heart.

The captain seemed to be suddenly searching for some information, and judging from the books he had taken out, what he was looking for was probably not that simple – he had called him over, most likely to inquire about this matter.

Slightly raising his vigilance, Morris quickly recited the name of Rahm, the God of Wisdom, silently praying for blessings in the realm of the mind. At the same time, he looked down to confirm the amulet on his wrist, strung with colorful pebbles, before sitting down opposite the captain. "Did you have any instructions for me?"

"I've encountered some problems and need to consult someone as learned as you," Duncan nodded, then, seeming to notice Morris's tense expression, he smiled reassuringly. "Don't be so nervous. I'm just asking some questions, possibly related to history."

Just asking? History? Hidden truths that even the master of the Vanishing Line couldn't be sure of?

Listening to the captain's reassurance, Morris quickly repeated Rahm's name a dozen times in his mind, applying layers of that foolish blessing before stiffening his nerves and looking up. "I'm ready. Please ask."

Duncan felt a trace of helplessness in his heart. He knew that the old man's nervousness was the most normal reaction, so he sighed and began to speak while organizing his words. "In your knowledge of history, is there any description of an event – a massive artificial object falling from the sky, accompanied by large-scale flames and flashes, and this falling object may have exploded, splitting into several smaller parts that landed on the world?"

As Duncan finished speaking, he looked earnestly into Morris's eyes. Morris also stared back at Duncan, stunned.

"…Is that all?" the old scholar asked hesitantly.

"That's all, just that much," Duncan nodded. Of course, he had many more details to describe, but in the case of such vague historical questions, too many details might influence Morris's judgment, so he chose the most concise statement. "If there are any records of this in history, there may be deviations in the descriptions, but the general event should revolve around the core scene of a 'huge object falling in flames.' Do you know of any similar events?"

The captain's sudden question was puzzling, but Morris noticed Duncan's serious attitude and began to recall and ponder diligently. After several minutes, he slowly shook his head. "I have never seen any similar records."

"Including all the official and unofficial histories?" Duncan was not surprised by Morris's answer, but he still asked somewhat unwillingly, "This event may have been transformed into a myth, or even become part of some heretical doctrine, because it may have happened in the distant past."

"I am certain," Morris said again. "Including all the official histories, unofficial histories, and heretical doctrines, as long as I have encountered them, there are no records of events that match or are similar to the scene you described – of course, it cannot be ruled out that some extremely obscure legends or lost histories may record this event, after all, there is always the unknown beyond our understanding, but…"

Morris paused before continuing, "If it really is a historical secret that even I don't know, then you should find it difficult to find corresponding information through other means… Perhaps you could try your luck at the Great Library of the Academy of Truth, searching for clues in the oldest books of Moco and Light Wind Harbor."

Duncan did not speak for a moment, but fell into thought with a calm gaze. After a long time, he nodded gently. "You can write letters to inquire about this matter from the scholars you know. If it is really necessary to negotiate with the headquarters of the Academy of Truth, you can do so."

Listening to the captain's rather solemn tone, Morris nodded seriously.

It seemed that this matter was indeed very important.

As an old scholar who had devoted his life to learning, he was of course also aroused by curiosity, and couldn't help but ask, "May I ask? What exactly is this thing you are talking about…?"

Duncan hesitated for a moment, then slowly said, "I'm not sure. I also accidentally touched some illusions, but even if I can't determine its essence… I feel that this scene may be closely related to the way our world is now, and to many lost histories."

"I understand," Morris said, bowing his head deeply. "I will find a way to investigate."

He did not continue to ask for details, nor did he ask what the "illusions" the captain spoke of were, because he knew that curiosity and the desire to explore must be just right – not too little, and certainly not too much.

After a slight pause, Duncan then added, "'New Hope,' focus on these words when investigating the information."

"Does that sound like a ship?" Morris asked thoughtfully.

Duncan thought for a moment and nodded with a strange expression. "Yes… a ship."

Indeed, it was a ship, a spaceship whose engine had exploded and fallen from the stars to the earth.

In Frost, in a secret underground facility in South Port, undead engineers were busily working.

Knowledge from half a century ago was once again coming in handy. Ancient blueprints were taken out from the fleet's warehouse, and engineers as old as the blueprints gathered excitedly among a large pile of machines, pipes, and cables, exchanging knowledge and ideas that sounded like heavenly books to ordinary people.

Tirion sat in a corner of the hall, watching his subordinates bustling about.

"I really didn't expect that I would be able to put these blueprints to use again in my lifetime," an undead engineer with a shriveled head, a large hole in his chest, and half of his body driven by a steam engine, said with excitement while holding the blueprints. "Look at these drainage devices and balancing mechanisms. They have made many modernizations to the submersible, but the basic principle is still the same as back then – filling with water, sinking, draining, floating, and supplemented by ballast weights in the bilge…"

"I understand your excitement," Tirion glanced at his subordinate, "but I must remind you that you are no longer in your lifetime."

"Almost the same meaning, afterlife is fine too," the undead engineer with the shriveled head laughed, his incomplete teeth appearing hideous. He raised his hand and forcefully tapped the steam engine on half of his body, causing the slightly malfunctioning gear set to rattle and resume its rotation. Then he raised his head, looked at the submersible being surrounded by his comrades not far away, and after a long time, he said with a trace of emotion, "Alas… If only I could meet its builder, it was designed very well, with great care… They must have really wanted this thing to be put to use."

Tirion did not say anything, but quietly watched the submersible in the center of the hall. After a long time, he sighed softly, "Go and get busy. It can really be put to use this time, don't make any mistakes."

"Yes, Captain."

The subordinate left, and Tirion breathed a sigh of relief. At this moment, a slight buzzing sound suddenly came from the crystal ball lens set beside him, followed by Lucretia's teasing voice, "You look very preoccupied, brother. Does it feel easy to be a Governor?"

Tirion turned his face expressionlessly and watched the crystal ball on the table gradually light up, Lucretia's figure appearing in the crystal.

"I specially moved this thing from the ship, not to listen to you teasing your brother here."

"Relax, brother, you are not a sea bandit anymore. A Governor is a position that requires both majesty and approachability," Lucretia smiled, as if she didn't care about the dissatisfaction in Tirion's tone at all. Then she changed her tone and asked curiously, "But I really want to know, is this… really Father's arrangement?"

"What else?" Tirion sighed. "He did something big here, something you can't imagine. Now the whole of Frost is being affected by him. I should feel fortunate that he really regained his humanity, so his arrangement, although surprising, is at least not bad… Whether it's Frost or my Sea Fog Fleet, now there's an explanation."

Lucretia finally put away her slightly teasing smile. After pondering for a moment, she hesitated and said, "Father… is he alright now?"

"Very well. His main body is on the Vanishing Line, either fishing or feeding pigeons every day. His avatar is in Frost, going for a walk in the park every morning and coming to supervise the progress of the project here in the afternoon – are you very concerned? Then next time he comes, I'll turn on the crystal ball and you can chat directly?"

"Ah, no, I'd rather not!" Lucretia raised her voice almost reflexively, then quickly regained her lady-like posture. "I… I still need to make some preparations, let's not talk about this, I have a lot of things to do here…"

"The things you're doing there?" Tirion raised his eyebrows subconsciously when he heard this. "Speaking of which, how is your research going? What is the situation with that 'fragment' that fell from the sky?"

Lucretia hesitated. Originally, she was just making an excuse to change the subject, but at this moment, she couldn't help but sigh softly.

"No progress. Even Talan Eire of Light Wind Harbor is helpless."