Chapter 1 The Death Wilds

On an endless wilderness composed entirely of black, white, and gray, the disorderly and frigid wind blew ceaselessly across the land. The grass swayed in waves, and bizarre black and white plants swayed their lifeless limbs in the wind. Tiny particles of faint light occasionally rose from the grass, floating and drifting above the wilderness, like lost souls wandering in this forgotten land of the dead.

And this entire realm was shrouded in a twilight resembling nightfall. The sky contained neither thick fog nor clouds, only a vortex-like mass of murky colors, swirling endlessly.

The *Lost Country* and *Brilliant Star* quietly "glided" across the endless wilderness, an inexplicable sight—Lucrezia sent two iron men off the ship to inspect the "land" outside, confirming that the undulating waves of grass concealed solid ground. Yet the two ships continued to sail across this land, their hulls below the waterline sinking into the earth as if sailing in water, as if… the concepts of "sea" and "wilderness" had been bizarrely fused together here.

At Duncan's command, the two ships reduced their speed, navigating with extreme caution beneath this eternal night. Shirley climbed to the crow's nest at the top of the mast, but after straining her eyes to look into the distance, she saw nothing—only wilderness after wilderness. All she could see was the slightly undulating ground, without any buildings or conspicuous landmarks, not even a slightly higher hill.

After continuing their fruitless voyage, the two ships gradually came to a halt—"grounded," as it were, on this endless wilderness.

Duncan gathered his followers on the deck.

"In light of the bizarre situation we encountered on 'Ashen Island' previously, we must proceed with caution this time," Duncan said with a serious expression, looking at the crew members gathered before him. "Everyone should refrain from leaving the ship rashly. The most important thing at the moment is to figure out the 'rules' of this 'death wilderness'."

"This matter should be addressed to a professional," Morris immediately said. "Ms. Agatha should have some understanding of the realm of the God of Death…"

As the old scholar's words faded, a hazy shadow appeared on the deck. Agatha's voice came from the shadow, sounding with a strange and ethereal tremor: "I am trying to find a way—but the situation may be a bit complex."

She paused, organizing the knowledge in her memory as she patiently explained: "According to the records in the sacred texts, after outsiders arrive in the death wilderness, they will embark on a 'Path of No Return' that traverses the wilderness. This path has no end and can only be traveled in one direction. The dead will walk on this path, gradually forgetting their memories of the mortal world. Then, they will encounter a guiding emissary on the path, the 'Gatekeeper' located on the side of the world of the dead.

"The Gatekeeper will lead the dead through an invisible entrance on the path, crossing the entire wilderness in an instant and arriving at the center of the realm of the dead—where a huge door stands. The dead will see Bartok's shadow before the door, and under that shadow's gaze, they will shed all the impurities stained in the mortal world, enter the door in a pure state, and welcome eternal slumber…"

Agatha recounted the doctrines of the Church of Death—in this doctrine, there was no concept of "reincarnation" familiar to Duncan. The endpoint of death was clearly eternal slumber, rather than returning to the world in any form.

Shirley, upon hearing this, was indeed a bit curious: "Then everyone ultimately goes behind that door to sleep after death? What happens when it's full behind the door? The dead are always increasing, right…"

As Shirley's voice faded, Alice, who had just come down from the bridge, also muttered: "It must be so crowded… are they all stacked on top of each other…"

"I think most of them probably sleep upright, like bamboo sticks in a cage," Shirley whispered to Alice. "They fill it up vertically before stacking a layer horizontally on top, and after it's covered, they sleep vertically again, one layer horizontal, one layer vertical, just like that…"

"Speaking of which, wouldn't those sleeping underneath feel very heavy?"

"No, I heard the dead have no weight…"

The two least knowledgeable people on the ship suddenly opened a strange door, chatting about a bizarre topic. Seeing the atmosphere around them becoming increasingly strange, Duncan finally couldn't help but interrupt: "Ahem… you can discuss these topics in private."

Shirley quickly shrank her neck and nodded repeatedly: "Oh, oh…"

Duncan refocused his gaze on Agatha: "You said the situation is a bit complex… what do you mean?"

Agatha nodded: "Simply put, if the records in the scriptures are correct, an outsider needs a 'passage' and 'guidance' process to see the God of Death. However, now… this guidance mechanism may have shut down."

Duncan frowned, quickly realizing something.

Lucrezia and Morris next to him also reacted almost immediately. Morris, with his pipe in his mouth, frowned: "The death mechanism of this world has disappeared…"

"Yes, the death mechanism has disappeared—therefore, the corresponding 'Gatekeeper' who guides outsiders in the death wilderness is also gone," Agatha said in a deep voice. She raised her head and looked at the endless wilderness outside the ship's舷side. "Without new dead, there will be no 'Path of No Return' and 'Gatekeeper'. All we can see is the wilderness itself… Although, theoretically, that gate and the Lord of Death should be in the center of this wilderness, but it is a place that can never be 'reached' without the correct method."

Nina listened curiously with wide eyes. She looked up at Duncan and then at Agatha, then couldn't help but ask: "Must there be 'conditions' such as passage and guidance? Is there no alternative? Rituals or something…"

"I'm afraid there's no way," Agatha slowly shook her head. "'Symbolism' is a very important part of the realm related to gods, and its essence is 'reproducing specific events with strict procedures'. Moreover, because the domain controlled by the God of Death is extremely special, the 'rules' here can only be stricter than other nodes… because the boundary between the living and the dead must be clear."

She suddenly stopped, adding with a somewhat complicated expression: "At least… that's how it was before the death mechanism disappeared in this world."

Vanna, who had been silent since just now, suddenly broke the silence: "In other words, if there is a 'dead person', it may restart the guidance mechanism here, opening the path to Bartok's door?"

"…That's how I understand it," Agatha said cautiously. "At least that's how it looks from the records in the sacred texts, but it may not be that simple. After all… everything in the scriptures corresponds to the days when the world was still 'normal', and now many things have changed, even the gods themselves… are twisting into forms that even They themselves can hardly understand."

"This is at least a line of thought," Vanna said with a serious expression. "It's better than wandering blindly in the wilderness."

"But there's a problem," Morris said, with his pipe in his mouth. "Where are we going to find a dead person now—in a world where there are no 'dead people' anymore?"

As the old scholar's words faded, many gazes on the deck suddenly looked at each other, and the atmosphere quickly became a bit strange.

Several gazes fell on Agatha. The "Gatekeeper" lady immediately spread her hands: "Don't look at me, strictly speaking, I shouldn't be considered a 'dead person'. I'm just a shadow that almost dissipated. From the process of birth, I haven't even 'lived', so naturally I haven't 'died'."

Immediately afterward, gazes fell on Vanna. The Inquisitor also quickly waved her hand: "I can't be counted either, right? I died once back then, but I've come back to life, and my survival has now been 'solidified' by the captain. No matter how you look at it, I can't be considered a dead person…"

She hesitated, then added uncertainly: "At least not entirely, right?"

"I can't be counted either—I'm a Shadow Demon now, reborn," Shirley noticed that gazes were starting to fall on her, and quickly waved her hand as well. "Even if I really died once, Bartok's 'Gatekeeper' can't control me now…"

Duncan looked around and suddenly touched his chin with a somewhat subtle expression: "Now that you mention it, how do I feel like there isn't even a normal living person on the ship right now? Nor a normal dead person…"

As he spoke, he subconsciously glanced at Morris, only to see the old gentleman with an unlit pipe in his mouth, holding a screwdriver in one hand, clicking and adjusting the fastening screws near the back of his head…

Noticing the captain's gaze, the old gentleman put away the screwdriver, the reeds in his chest vibrating: "Sorry, there's a bit of noise inside the skull, a screw came loose."

The people on the deck looked at each other, falling silent in unison.

Only Alice, after wandering in the sky for a while, suddenly came back to her senses and leaned over to whisper secretly to Shirley: "...Could it be that they sleep hanging up? Like the 'Sailor'…"

Shirley was shocked: "You're still thinking about this?! The topic has changed eight hundred…"

She suddenly paused.

"Who did you just say?"

"The Sailor—he sleeps hanging up, although he's always pretending to be asleep."

Shirley blinked, and after realizing it, slowly turned her head to look at the captain: "That's right… where's the corpse? Why didn't he come over?"

"He should be on the lower deck at this time, probably slacking off again," Duncan also realized, frowning slightly. "But then again… can Anomaly 077 be considered a normal 'dead person'? I feel like he 'died' even less than you few 'genuine' ones?"

His gaze swept over Agatha, Vanna, and Shirley in turn.

Shirley couldn't help but mutter: "Captain, your way of describing things is a bit strange…"

Duncan's eyes widened: "Isn't this topic itself strange enough?"

(End of this chapter)