Chapter 19 Thank You

Thank you.

A very ordinary word, yet it instantly stole Duncan's breath.

He was certain that the word hadn't been on the paper before, nor had the damp stain from the water pipe, both appearing out of thin air before his very eyes!

He stared intently at the appearing marks on the paper, a ghostly green flame beginning to flicker around him. In an instant, his consciousness swept across the entire ship to confirm whether any uninvited "guests" had boarded – but he found nothing.

How did this word appear? Who was conveying a message to him? And why?

Frankly, he understood a little of what those he had frightened felt like, such as Vanna, who had leapt at the dressing mirror in a dream, or Tyrian and Lucretia earlier – but only a little. He'd still do it again next time.

The crucial question now was why a word had suddenly appeared on this piece of paper.

Duncan frowned deeply. Suddenly, a detail flashed in his mind. Just now, while talking with Tyrian, he had said something in jest:

"If the god behind this cathedral is watching, then he owes me a thank you."

The expression on Duncan's face became subtle. His first reaction to this thought was that it was utter nonsense. How could such a flippant remark be taken seriously? But after this instinctive reaction, he couldn't help but consider the possibility, and the more he thought about it... the more restless he became.

He lowered his head, looking at the damp corner of the paper. After a moment's hesitation, he picked up the pen beside him and wrote a few words on the drier part of the water stain.

"Storm Goddess?"

After writing, he waited patiently, staring at the damp spot with bated breath as if waiting for an announcement, but by the time the water had almost dried, he still hadn't received a reply.

It was as if someone had left a message and then vanished – or perhaps they were deliberately ignoring him?

Bizarre and outlandish ideas flooded Duncan's mind. He had spent so long in this uncanny world, yet the strangeness of this moment still far exceeded anything he had experienced before. Even his normally unflappable composure was starting to crack. But after waiting in vain for a long time, he slowly put down the pen, allowing his emotions to gradually calm down.

After pondering for a moment, he got up and pushed open the wooden door leading to the chart room. By the navigation table, Goathead was, as always, staring at the misty sea chart, and immediately turned around at the sound of the door opening.

"Was there anything unusual on board just now?" Duncan asked proactively before the other could speak.

"On board? There was nothing unusual on board," Goathead said, startled, instinctively replying, then seeming to sense something. "Did something happen? I'll search the entire ship immediately…"

"No need. I've already checked once. I'm just asking for a second confirmation," Duncan waved his hand, then composed himself, deciding to not mention the bizarre writing that had appeared on the paper. "I just saw Tyrian and Lucretia. They were contacting each other."

Goathead sensed that the captain was acting strangely, but since the other did not elaborate, it wisely refrained from asking. Upon hearing Duncan's words, it simply remarked with a touch of emotion, "Many people have speculated that the relationship between Tyrian and Lucretia is strained, citing as evidence that Tyrian works as a pirate deep within civilized territories, while his sister is engaged in the great undertaking of frontier exploration on the edge of civilization, and the two never meet… But it seems that the world's idle speculations are, after all, just speculations."

"In my opinion, their relationship is not bad, especially when facing me together. The sense of understanding between them is something that develops from a young age, sharing a childhood of beatings from their father," Duncan shook his head. "As for why they are so far apart now, it's just that they have chosen different paths in life."

"Ah, the lament of an old father," Goathead exaggeratedly exclaimed. "Was your exchange with your pair of 'children' smooth?"

"…I think it was pretty smooth," Duncan thought for a moment, nodding slightly. "I think I have fully expressed my goodwill, and have already implanted the initial impressions of reason and a 'return to humanity' in their minds. I've also laid some groundwork for future contact. At the very least, the next time we encounter the Sea Mist, we shouldn't have to cover each other with firepower. That's the first step toward family harmony."

Goathead was silent for a moment, which Duncan found strange. "Why aren't you saying anything this time? Aren't you usually very talkative?"

Goathead said quietly, "To consider not covering each other with firepower as family harmony is too powerful. I can't comment."

Duncan didn't know how to respond, and could only silently spread his hands. Goathead, after a moment of silence, asked, "It sounds like you're already preparing for another meeting with Tyrian? Why are you suddenly so proactive about this?"

"Because he once served the Frost Queen," Duncan said softly, "And I'm now curious about his experience."

"Is it because of Miss Alice?"

"Maybe a little."

Duncan said casually.

Then he shook his head, turned, and went back to his room, found the piece of paper he had been doodling on, tore off the corner that had been dampened by the water pipe and on which the words had appeared, and returned to the navigation table in the chart room. "I have something to show you."

He placed the strange hexagonal pattern in front of Goathead.

"Have you seen this before?"

Goathead's neck creaked as it turned, and it lowered its gaze, staring curiously at the pattern on the paper, before shaking its head. "I haven't seen it. What is this?"

"You haven't seen it?" Duncan frowned. After confirming that Goathead's attitude didn't seem like it was hiding anything, he slowly opened his mouth, "Over a century ago, several monks visited the Vanishing. One of them carried an amulet with this pattern on it."

Goathead was silent for a moment, then quietly said, "Oh, that was 'outside my field of vision.'"

Duncan instantly understood what the other meant.

At that time, this Goathead was not on the Vanishing.

Goathead was not an original "crew member" of the ship. It had only been serving on the Vanishing for a century – to put it bluntly, it only appeared on this ship after it fell into the subspace.

There were many secrets hidden behind this ship and this "first mate," and this was one of the few mysteries that Duncan had slowly probed and successfully unraveled.

Duncan was silent for a moment.

He had always been curious about how this Goathead had come to be on this ship, about why it had become the "first mate" here after the real Captain Duncan had completely gone mad, and… curious about its connection to the subspace, and the countless secrets it knew behind it.

But unfortunately, Goathead never mentioned these things – even when Duncan tried to probe a little, it would shift the topic in a very obviously awkward way.

This was an attitude and a hint. It couldn't say, or it would cause big problems.

Duncan came back to his senses, temporarily putting aside the complex thoughts in his mind. After thinking for a moment, he nodded to Goathead. "Then you continue to steer. I need to take care of some things."

"Of course, always at your service!"

Duncan put away the piece of paper and turned to walk toward his bedroom. But he had barely gone halfway when he suddenly heard Goathead's voice coming from behind him again:

"Captain."

Duncan stopped and turned slightly. "Hmm?"

"You can always trust your loyal first mate."

Duncan didn't speak, but he nodded gently, then stepped into the room.

…

Maurice tossed and turned in bed for a long time before finally sitting up.

His wife was sleeping soundly beside him, her soft, even snores ringing out from time to time. The glow of the World Scar shone through the window, casting a patch of night onto the bedroom floor.

It was all like a dream, but it was all real.

Maurice rarely suffered from insomnia, but since his wife's "return," he had always found it hard to fall asleep, and he knew very well why this was.

Because of fear.

He worried that if he fell asleep, this dreamlike reality would really turn into a dream, worried that all the miracles were just the result of his wishful thinking, just like praying to the subspace eleven years ago, which had actually only resulted in an illusion that would shatter with a single touch.

Because of this fear, he didn't even dare to pray to Rahm casually. In the many years past, even though he had intentionally distanced himself from the church, he had never stopped his habitual prayers in his daily life, but now, because he was subconsciously avoiding the blessing of the "Eye of Truth," he had even forcibly restrained himself from praying.

Maurice breathed softly, allowing his somewhat drowsy brain to clear slightly in the cold night air, then got up, put on a robe, and silently stood by the bed, watching his sleeping wife.

He had been doing this often in the past few days.

But this time, he had only been watching for a while when he suddenly felt a trance in his mind, followed by a faint call and a vague, majestic figure appearing in the depths of his mind – Maurice instantly snapped to attention, realizing what was happening.

The Captain was calling him.

The old scholar immediately took two deep breaths to fully wake up, then quickly walked to the junk room connected to the master bedroom. He turned on the electric light in the junk room, then looked at an antique mirror placed in the corner of the small room.

A phantom flame was slowly fluctuating around the edge of the mirror, and the Captain's figure was gradually emerging from within.

For some reason, this scene, which should have filled ordinary people with fear, now gave Maurice an inexplicable sense of reassurance.

He found "realism" in the fluctuating flames and majestic figure. Just as pain could prove that one was alive, it was "evidence" that could prove that a miracle had indeed happened, proving that everything at this moment was not an illusion.

Maurice came to the antique mirror and bowed slightly. "Captain, what are your orders?"

Duncan saw Maurice, as well as the junk background behind him, and his mind immediately conjured up the image of a middle-aged office worker sneaking into the storage room to play games, afraid of being discovered by his wife…

The next moment, he straightened his face and put the outrageous associations aside, speaking to Maurice with a serious expression, "I need you to investigate some things, possibly related to history or some secret organization."

"What kind of things?"

"A mysterious pattern that once appeared on an amulet carried by a group of monks."

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