Chapter 1
Vanna awoke from a bizarre and chaotic dream, finding that it was still deep night outside – the cold, pale light of the Worldwound shone on the windowsill depicting deep-sea runes, appearing peaceful and serene.

However, the images from that bizarre dream were still clearly imprinted in her mind –

A ship, a great ship burning with ghostly green flames, sailed from the boundary between the sea and the sky, crushing the entire city-state of Pland like an approaching mountain. In the ghostly flames, countless cries and desolate songs roared in unison, as if clamoring to overturn the entire world.

As this giant ship descended, she saw a blazing sun rising from the depths of the Pland city-state – not the sun known to the world, bound by ancient runes, but a celestial body burning like the "ancient sun" described by the solar cultists. It rose from the depths of the city-state, its flames melting the earth, and everyone seemed to flow like melting wax figures on the streets.

The Great Cathedral of the Deep-Sea Church stood quietly in the center of this living-fire hellscape. In her dream, she prayed to the cathedral, hoping to receive guidance from the Storm Goddess, but the cathedral only emitted a noisy and meaningless chime, with no guidance descending...

Vanna sat up in bed, wearing her nightgown, and went to the window. She glanced at the still-peaceful city and the “Worldwound” in the sky, but the agitation in her heart only intensified.

After a moment, the young Inquisitor withdrew her gaze from the city. She went to the dressing table near the bed and casually pulled open a drawer –

In the dressing table drawer lay a dagger, a curved ritual dagger. The runes symbolizing the Deep-Sea Church shimmered at the base of the blade, as if stimulated by some inexplicable force, producing a "resonance."

Vanna's gaze lingered on those shimmering runes for several seconds before she used the blade to cut a wound in the palm of her hand. As blood seeped out, she held her hand horizontally in front of her chest, and quietly chanted the name of the Storm Goddess, attempting to seek divine guidance.

However, for some reason, she only heard some illusory roaring of the sea waves. The state of "psionic induction" that she could usually enter very easily was slow to manifest today.

It was as if an invisible curtain had suddenly enveloped her, blocking the connection between her and the Storm Goddess, Gomorrah.

Vanna's brow furrowed slightly.

It was extremely rare for the connection between a believer and a god to be disrupted, but not unimaginable. The mapping relationship between the subspace and the real world was profound and complex, beyond the comprehension of mortals. Even the power of the gods was sometimes subject to temporary fluctuations in strength due to the influence of the subspace, the abyssal deep sea, and the spirit world. In addition, the eternal and incessant turmoil and disputes between gods and gods, and between gods and ancient gods, made it possible for some believers to suddenly not hear the voice of the gods in extremely rare cases.

But the Storm Goddess Gomorrah… should not be like this.

The boundless sea surrounded mortal civilization, and the power of the Storm Goddess permeated all dimensions and influenced the entire reality. All gods could lose contact with the real world. Even the God of Death would occasionally leave loopholes like the "Resurgent," but the Storm Goddess alone… could not.

This was also one of the reasons why the Deep-Sea Church could become the most powerful church in the boundless sea.

Is the problem with me?

Vanna naturally began to suspect her own condition. However, when she looked at her palm, she saw that the wound she had just made was already beginning to heal rapidly.

The blessing bestowed by the goddess was still there, taking effect without the slightest delay.

Vanna once again recalled the noisy and bizarre nightmare from before, and the ominous omens she had seen in the past several days.

There must be a connection between all of this.

A ghost ship burning with green flames… a ghost ship…

Vanna quickly recalled and compared the occult knowledge she possessed in her mind, and then her expression suddenly became serious.

She was not an expert in the field of navigation, and rarely came into contact with those absurd tales circulating among superstitious sailors, but even in the orthodox church scriptures, there was a ghost ship that occupied a special position.

It was an ominous ship returning from the subspace. Its captain was the terrifying captain who caused the Vessellan Thirteen Isles to be swallowed by the border collapse a century ago, Duncan.

Vanna suddenly stood up behind the dressing table, but immediately after, she remembered – it was late at night, and the cathedral's archives, like any other library, were not open at night.

Moreover, from a security standpoint, she had better not talk to anyone about the dream within a few hours of the "dream of omen" having just ended – if the dream really pointed to that "Captain Duncan," then he was very likely to use the connection established by the dream to sense mortals talking about him.

After all, that was a…"ghost" who could return from the subspace.

The safest course of action now was to wait patiently, until the sun regained its dominant position in the world, until the connection established by the dream gradually dissipated, and then go to the archives to consult relevant information, or discuss these ominous omens with the archbishop in the cathedral.

In any case, if these dreams of omen really pointed to that "Captain Duncan," really were reminding her that the legendary Lost Ship was eyeing Pland covetously, then as the guardian of the city-state, she must stop that terrifying ghost captain from landing at all costs…

…

A tall, thin shadow quickly passed through the deserted lower-city streets, the slender figure casting a fleeting silhouette under the gas lamps.

Completely unfamiliar city, completely unfamiliar buildings, vague memories in his mind, the civilian district that seemed desolate and eerie during curfew hours.

However, Duncan felt unusually happy walking through such a slum.

He had succeeded – not only had he successfully performed a second spirit-world walk, but he had also successfully controlled a body to come to the ground, to the surface of the Pland city-state.

He was coming into contact with the civilized society of this world, he was observing the architecture of this era, the technology of this era with his own eyes.

Moreover, he was using a complete body – neither open-minded nor imaginative. This body, which looked normal from the outside, would make his next actions very convenient.

Frankly speaking, the health of this body was not very good. Even in the state of spirit-world walking, he could ignore most of the problems of the body, but Duncan could clearly feel the sub-healthy state of this body. However, he had no complaints about this, and even felt that it was natural.

After all, judging from these two experiences, spirit-world walking occupied corpses that had been dead for a certain period of time – could a lively and kicking person be a corpse?

A distant dog bark came from the end of the street. Duncan cautiously slowed down and hid himself in the shadows between the buildings.

He didn't know if it was a patrol dog led by the night-patrolling church guards, but it never hurt to be cautious.

Above the nearby buildings, huge pipeline structures spanned the low houses. The light cast by the Pale Scar scattered intermittent light and shadows between those pipelines. Occasionally, steam leaked from the valves of some pipelines, forming a hazy mist in the night.

The dog barking receded.

Duncan came out of his hiding place, looked around at the movement on the street, and casually comforted the pigeon Ai Yi, who was moving around on his shoulder. Then, following his memory, he walked towards the opposite side of the street.

Between a row of low two- or three-story buildings, there was an old door. Above the door hung a dirty sign, and on the walls on both sides, you could see dusty and poorly maintained display windows – this was a shop, which looked not small in scale, but was obviously poorly maintained and the business was dismal.

This was where the memory fragments in his mind guided Duncan to come.

He came to the old door and looked up at the sign on the door. A row of letters was faintly discernible in the darkness:

"Rowan Antique Shop," Duncan muttered in a low voice, "It's a concise name…"

After saying that, he began to search around the door. Because the memory in his mind was not very clear, he searched for a long time before finding a spare key on a hidden hook under the windowsill.

The original owner of this body did not carry the key with him, nor did he carry any items that could identify him or be used to find this antique shop. This seemed to be the caution of a veteran cultist – but for a ghost captain who could seize memories, these superficial cautions were meaningless.

Duncan opened the door of Rowan Antique Shop, slipped in, and quickly closed the door behind him.

The wooden door made a bang, but the sound did not travel far in the night. The sign hanging above the door swayed slightly in the vibration. The letters on the sign wriggled in the pale, cold night, and in the blink of an eye, new words appeared on the wooden board –

"Duncan Antique Shop."