Chapter 1 In the Shadows

When Pigeon said these things, from the content to the tone, it was as funny, comical, and silly as always.

But now, it was a spectral bird engulfed in ghostly flames, its semi-transparent flesh revealing bones and tendons coursing with fire, its cries a mixture of crackling bursts, like the wails of vengeful spirits escaping from the opening gates of the underworld.

It turns out that the distance between the uncanny and the comical is often not that great.

The spiritual flames around Duncan continued to burn as he watched the three cultists disappear before his eyes, unsure of the underlying principle behind the process.

He only knew that this was "Eye's" ability.

A few seconds later, after confirming that the three cultists were truly gone for good, he tilted his head slightly and asked the pigeon on his shoulder, "...Where did you send them?"

Eye flapped its wings, preening its now semi-transparent feathers with its beak, and after a moment of thought, suddenly blurted out, "Returned to the shadows!"

Duncan frowned. He had begun to learn to interpret the true meaning of Eye's words over the past few days. "...You mean, you banished them to some kind of...parallel dimension? Or did you turn them into some kind of untouchable state?"

The pigeon looked up, its eyes darting erratically as it looked at Duncan. "Coo!"

It was now pretending to be a real pigeon again.

But Duncan believed he understood the truth. He pressed his finger against Eye's head and then looked around the dimly lit "sanctuary" once more.

In the flickering light of the oil lamp, everything in the small room was clear at a glance. The Sun God followers who had once hidden here had completely disappeared from this world. Now standing here was only a ghost captain who had taken over a cultist's corpse and descended upon this place, and his pigeon.

But deep down, Duncan had a feeling—he seemed to be able to sense that the three cultists were still here, right beside him, trapped in this room, in some dimension inaccessible by any means.

He could even "feel" the cultists shouting and struggling in vain, feel their desperate desire to reconnect with the real world, only to be permanently shielded from reality by an invisible barrier.

This feeling permeated the air until, at a certain moment, Duncan saw evidence: in one of the oil lamp's tremors, in a perfectly timed interplay of light and shadow, he suddenly saw a mark on a nearby wall, looking as if it had been left by a short sword forcefully hacking at it—but when he looked again, the flame of the oil lamp flickered, and the mark on the wall vanished without a trace.

That was the last contact the three Sun God followers had with the real world.

Duncan took a light breath, turned, and left the room with the pigeon.

Outside the abandoned rest area was a passage much narrower than the sewer corridor he had seen before. The deep, long passage extended to both sides, one end leading to a fork in the road, and the other connecting to a sloping ramp that led upwards.

Even in the abandoned areas, the city's managers had apparently maintained the most basic maintenance of these underground facilities—at least, the gas lamps on both sides of the passage were still lit.

Duncan briefly assessed the direction of the passage and, based on the remaining fragments of memory in his mind, sorted out the route to the surface, quickly striding towards the sloping ramp.

He walked faster and faster.

A fresh airflow appeared, a cool breeze blowing through Duncan's hair. He heard some vague, distant sounds, seemingly the roar of some factory facilities operating through the night on the surface, and the sound of distant waves...the sound of waves crashing against the coastal rocks at night.

Duncan almost ran.

Eye, the pigeon who had returned to normal after shedding its spiritual flames, flapped its wings on his shoulder, making happy noises: "The age is calling! The age is calling!"

Duncan suddenly stopped, staring into the pigeon's eyes. "Don't talk casually outside—normal pigeons don't talk."

Eye thought for a moment, flapping its wings vigorously. "Aye captain!"

Duncan was suddenly surprised because the pigeon had actually responded to him correctly for once. He didn't know if it was a coincidence or what—but soon he stopped thinking about it.

He needed to prepare to face this world.

He definitely couldn't wear the black robe outside. In the memories he had "devoured," this kind of suspicious robe was only used in the secret rituals of the Sun God followers. Wearing this outfit on the city streets would earn him the treatment of being tied to a tree and beaten by seven or eight security guards as soon as he showed his face.

The city-state of Pland enforced a fairly strict curfew, and wandering around at night seemed to be a rather dangerous thing. Ordinary people who wanted to go out at night had to carry permits and register in advance—the cultist he was possessing obviously didn't have these legal procedures, so he had to avoid the night patrols in order to move around the city.

Those responsible for maintaining order in the city at night were called "Guardians." They seemed to be armed forces under the Deep Sea Church. In the devoured memories, the original owner of this body had a deep fear and hostility towards those armed priests...

Duncan quickly sorted through the memory fragments in his mind. Because they were memories inherited from a corpse, these fragments were mostly disorganized and blurred. He couldn't piece together the complete life trajectory of a "modern civilized society member" from them, nor could he piece together all the information about the city-state of Pland, but even the most basic parts were enough for him to have a general idea of what to do next.

First, he took off the black robe before the ramp leading to the surface—underneath the black robe were normal clothes that wouldn't arouse suspicion when worn outside.

He considered whether he should burn the black robe, but the flames and smoke might attract the attention of the night patrols, so in the end, he just rolled up the black robe and hid it in a corner near the ramp.

The sun amulet was also something that could cause trouble, but it also potentially contained valuable information. After hesitating again and again, Duncan decided to take it with him—he could use this amulet to do another test when he returned to the Vanishing Sail, to see if Eye could bring it back as well.

He could safely study this thing on the Vanishing Sail.

He cleaned up the traces of hiding the black robe and roughly tidied up his appearance, trying to make himself look like an ordinary citizen, rather than a disheveled cultist hiding in the sewers—after doing all this, he stepped onto the ramp.

The road ahead wasn't too far.

Duncan hurried up the ramp, the increasingly fresh air filling his chest. He could already clearly hear the sounds of factories and waves in the distance, and after a few minutes, he even saw a cold light appearing on the steps not far ahead.

He walked a few steps forward, and the cold light finally enveloped him completely.

He had reached the surface.

Solid, stable ground, bathed in pale light.

Duncan's eyes widened. He saw a city, a city standing on the boundless sea, representing mortal civilization—a huge scar in the sky stretched across the city, illuminating the densely packed rooftops, towers, and more distant buildings. Not far in front of him was the slightly dilapidated edge of the city, and on the higher ground in the distance, he could see many distant and magnificent buildings, the "upper city" where the cathedral and city hall were located.

Duncan suddenly laughed, not making a sound, but laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

But after a moment, he forcibly stopped his laughter. He took a deep breath in the cold night wind and then strode towards a direction in his memory.

Cultists also had their own "normal lives." Apart from a few "priests" who were completely dedicated to harming the people, the Sun Church, like most other cults, relied on a large number of ordinary people to support its operation—these bewitched grassroots believers were mostly poor citizens in the lower city, neglected elderly people, naive young people, or like the body that Duncan now occupied...

An unnoticed, terminally ill, ordinary person who ran a fraudulent antique shop in the lower city, struggling with life and taxes.

The terrible life of this antique shop owner named "Ron" had ended. His debt with a certain evil god had been canceled with that last breath, but he still left a position in this world...a position that Duncan liked very much.