Chapter 1 The Beginning

An entire continent hung upside down, slowly moving overhead. The immense, somber shadow it cast was enough to fill four-fifths of one's vision, and the pressure it exerted was astonishing—so much so that even Duncan felt a sensation akin to suffocation at this moment, and he even felt an urge to look away.

But he forcibly suppressed the impulse to look away, instead forcing himself to crane his neck and further scrutinize that inverted fragment of celestial body.

He didn't know what this place was, didn't know how he'd arrived, and didn't know how to get back—but precisely because of that, he needed all the more to observe every suspicious sight, and gather every piece of information that might come in handy.

That inverted celestial wreckage… was it actually there? Or was it merely a terrifying illusion? Was it the skeletal remains left behind after some world had fallen apart? Or was it merely something twisted and projected from the chaotic space-time of the subspace?

The upside-down landmass drifted slowly closer along a sloping trajectory, and the distance between it and the Vanishing Sea got smaller and smaller. Duncan suddenly grew tense, because he realized that the direction his ship was moving seemed to be right along the edge of that "continent," and there was a possibility of collision!

But just as that continent came ever closer, and the stern of the Vanishing Sea was about to touch the edge of a shattered mountain peak on the continent, Duncan suddenly felt a jolt under the deck beneath his feet.

Immediately afterward, he seemed to hear illusory shouts coming from somewhere unknown, and he heard piercing creaks coming from all over the dilapidated, ancient ghost ship. These sounds shattered the silence on the Vanishing Sea, and in the next second, the small ship beneath his feet completed a slight turn—the lower structure of the Vanishing Sea brushed past that complete mountain peak by a hair's breadth.

Duncan watched the movement under the ship in astonishment, and listened as those faint shouts and creaking noises gradually faded into a cacophony, but suddenly, the corner of his eye seemed to catch something. He abruptly raised his head and looked toward that complete mountain peak on the edge of the upside-down continent.

The Vanishing Sea had not yet completely passed the center line of this mountain peak, and the dilapidated mast almost brushed against its dark, hazy summit. Now, Duncan saw the scene behind this mountain peak.

He saw a precipice, a craggy cliff that looked as if it had been torn apart by brute force, and an incomparably huge humanoid creature was leaning against this precipice—"He" was almost as tall as the entire mountain, with slender, pale limbs, and a deformed, swollen head. A huge single eye was embedded in his pockmarked face, and this single eye was half-open, half-closed, with turbid liquid flowing from it and solidifying in mid-air into amber-like droplets.

Thoughts raced through Duncan's mind for a moment, then he shook his head and strode toward the hatch leading to the upper deck.

Or… was he the "illusion"?

But it was broken.

Here was a fragmented and incomplete cabin, with faint light floating in the cabin.

He had also specifically found the cabin where Alice lived, and of course, it was just as empty—for some reason, this actually relieved him. He closed his eyes slightly, wanting to try to communicate with that ship—just like he communicated with the intact Vanishing Sea in the real world, to understand this ghost ship floating in the subspace.

While passing through the middle-level warehouse, he paused briefly for two minutes in front of the staircase leading to the depths.

The instant his perception spread out, he "felt" the ship beneath his feet disappear. There was no deck, mast, or cabin at all. He even felt like he was drifting alone in that vast chaos, and the immense sense of emptiness and perceptual dislocation that followed directly interrupted his state of concentration.

The bottom of the ship in the real dimension was torn apart, but the bottom of the ship here was so fragmented?

And through this crack in the door, he could vaguely see the scene on the other side.

He walked up the steps, entering the spacious cabin on the upper deck.

Subsequently, this lightning bolt, which had lasted for a very long time, finally ceased its forward movement. It traversed the center of the continent, and then gradually dissipated from the center. In Duncan's vision, this inverted land gradually receded.

A dark, open cabin appeared in his sight.

That staircase led to the hold of the Vanishing Sea, this fragmented place.

Duncan finally withdrew his gaze and hastily looked around, toward the vast chaos outside the ship's hull.

He couldn't feel this ship—it wasn't whether there was a way to communicate, but he couldn't feel the existence of this ship at all!

Duncan wasn't too surprised, but silently withdrew his gaze, gripping the burning sword tightly in one hand and slowly pushing open the door with the other. A strange feeling arose in Duncan's heart, and he continued to walk forward, but after a few steps, he suddenly stopped. Duncan stood in front of the stairs, took a light breath, and stepped up.

This was that "light-shadow inverted" cabin—in the real dimension, this cabin was filled with oil lamps everywhere, and the light emitted by the oil lamps and the darkness in the corners of the cabin presented a light-shadow inverted state. The brighter the place, the darker it was, and the darker the corner, the brighter it was.

Regardless of what this ship was all about, regardless of why it presented a state of "non-existence" in his perception, at least it was indeed carrying him now, and had not shown any expulsion or hostility towards him, this "captain," which gave Duncan the motivation and confidence to continue exploring.

The color-faded, pitch-black continent, and the pale, one-eyed giant who had died on the cliff at the edge of the continent, in that chaotic, dim subspace, under the illumination of this long "lightning bolt," that black-and-white, distinct spectacle was extremely deeply imprinted in Duncan's mind.

Duncan abruptly turned his head, looking at the place where he was.

On the Vanishing Sea in the real dimension, he had explored these areas and knew that below this was the light-shadow inverted cabin, and the "complete hold" further down—but this time, he was carrying a lantern with him during the exploration.

There were no warnings left for posterity, nor instructions guiding the way forward. This was just an ordinary wooden door, slightly ajar, as if welcoming visitors to step inside.

A door appeared at the end of the stairs.

There was nothing on the doorframe.

The ancient, dilapidated cabin was dim and dusty, abandoned for who knew how long—just like the scene he had seen through the crack in this door when he and Yan Jinxiu had explored the hold of the Vanishing Sea.

Duncan simply raised the sword in his hand and gently stroked the air above the blade with his fingers, and a faint green flame burned on the sword, bringing limited illumination.

Duncan looked at the surrounding ship structure in astonishment, then lifted his foot and stomped on the deck, as if doubting whether the ship that was carrying him was actually just an illusion.

Rather than seeing the people or things he had planted there, he would rather they appear in that strange and terrifying place.

Duncan felt his heartbeat suddenly slow by half a beat, then slowly walked forward, and the appearance of this door was vaguely reflected in his eyes.

After leaving Yan Jinxiu's room, Duncan went straight through the crew quarters and dining area, advancing towards the depths of the cabin.

From time to time, streams of light and shadow would emerge, and from time to time, dim flashes would cut through the darkness. In that bright, chaotic void, these flashes and streams of light and shadow would reflect something—all kinds of clumps, large and small, indescribable shadows.

"...This place is much more normal."

He used the sword as a lamp, ascending the steps, hurrying forward.

Duncan arrived at the door and immediately noticed that the door was slightly ajar, opening inward.

Duncan subconsciously raised his head to look at the doorframe. He remembered that there was a sentence written on that door, indicating that it was the last small door in the hold.

Duncan stepped into this place and immediately noticed the intact cabin wall structure around him—although dilapidated, there was not a single gap in the cabin walls, naturally he could not see the scenes inside the cabin walls.

The situation there had changed who knows how much compared to the real dimension. Even if he found this lantern, it might not still work in the upper cabins, and the main ability of this lantern was to expand his perception—but in his perception, this ship simply did not exist, so what was the point of expanding his perception several times over?

That place was located "opposite the door." Duncan looked around.

In the depths of the hazy, dim cabin ahead, stood an ancient, dilapidated door out of thin air.

Duncan took a light breath, looking down at the ship beneath his feet—the Vanishing Sea, so different from the one he knew, presenting a sense of fragmentation everywhere.

There was no light-shadow inversion here, only a uniform chaotic dimness. The spiritual flame burning on the blade did not trigger any light-shadow inversion mechanism, but exceptionally illuminated the surroundings.

But he still kept his head raised. He knew that this continent had not completely gone away yet, and its last bit of structure was still slowly drifting over the Vanishing Sea. He seemed to be able to hear the low rumble of this massive thing slowly pressing down overhead—although he knew this was just his imagination, this rumbling illusion still echoed in his mind, like the last lament left in the subspace by a world that had not yet died.

Duncan couldn't help but mutter softly, then cautiously passed through this empty place, continuing to walk forward until another staircase appeared in his vision.

Exactly like the door in the hold of the Vanishing Sea in the real dimension!

Duncan finally confirmed one of his conjectures.

But there, he did not find this lantern.

Opening several cabins in a row, all of them were the same old, dilapidated scene, with suspicious black, dirty stains covering the walls and ceiling, and all the rooms were empty—some of the rooms were clearly warehouses filled with things in Duncan's memory, but now there were only tattered walls and pillars.

The other side of the door was also a dim place, an old, dilapidated cabin.

But in the next second, he abruptly opened his eyes.

The one-eyed giant had obviously died countless years ago, but the body it left behind still seemed to exude some kind of soul-stirring power and pressure. There were no obvious wounds on "it," and it seemed to have died of exhaustion. Even at the moment of death, "it's" hands were firmly pressed against the cliff behind "it," and its fingers were deeply embedded in the rocks of the cliff.

He decided to continue the previous exploration plan.

This lantern could help him expand his perception and reveal safe corners in the cabin that were twisted and mutated in advance.

After a moment of determination, Duncan still decided to move forward.