Shrouded Seascape

Chapter 148. Upper Echelons

"What's our current speed?" Charles inquired as he stared at the nautical chart adorned on the wall on the ship's bridge.

"15 knots, Captain," Conor reported. He turned to Charles with the light of anticipation in his eyes. "Captain, we’re going to rest for a long time after this journey, right?

”You’ve claimed a habitable island for yourself, so my goal is considered accomplished as well. I would like to take leave to make a trip to Volcano Island and bring my family over."

"Alright," Charles nodded. "After the Divine Light Order disciples come over, you can tag along on their ships to return home. Once I've settled down up there, I will send someone to fetch you."

Conor's grip tightened on the helm. Staring at Charles' back, he hesitated if he should say his next words.

Hearing no response, Charles urged, "If you have something to say, out with it."

"Captain, if the Land of Light really exists, you wouldn't stay with us on Hope Island, would you?" Conor inquired.

Charles turned to cast a fleeting glance at Conor. Without uttering a word, his gaze returned to the nautical chart on the wall.

Conor let out an embarrassed and awkward chuckle. "Actually, everyone can sense your longing to return. Doctor said you were never attached to this seascape, and you have been yearning to escape."

Charles took out his pocket watch to check the time before he drew a dashed line on the map.

Observing Charles' expression, Conor hesitated for a moment before he continued. "Captain, if you get up there, there's no need for you to send someone for me. Even if the Narwhale never sets sail again, I will forever regard you as my captain."

"You are not going to the surface world? Why?" Charles turned to look at his second mate with a genuine expression of astonishment.

"Captain, just as your world is up there, this is my world. I've fulfilled my dreams, and I plan to live out the rest of my life on Hope Island."

"Haven't I told you about the world above? Why would you still prefer to stay in this god-forsaken place?"

"Because I've already become a central islander. I also don't want to work so hard anymore."

"Everyone up there lives like a central islander."

"And that's exactly why I don't want to go up there!" Conor's volume suddenly went a notch higher. In between rapid pants, anger laced his voice as he shouted, "I finally became one of the upper echelons after going through so many hardships! I don't want equality!

”I want to enjoy the privileges of being a central islander! I want to live the life they live and the freedom to do whatever I want!!"

Charles stared at Conor. A whirlwind of thoughts struck him, leaving him feeling rather confused. He hadn't expected this to be the reason for the latter's reluctance to go up to the surface world.

Has it been my wishful thinking all along? Perhaps the surface is a paradise only to me, but it's not as enticing for them.

A tense atmosphere engulfed the ship's bridge. "Captain, why don't you just stay and be the governor? You can have everything you want. Why would you—"

"Enough. I don't wish to continue this conversation with you. Steer the ship closer to Monti's. I want to see how things are going on his side." Charles interrupted in a firm tone.

Since Conor was unwilling, so be it. He should not impose his dreams on others. Everyone had their own aspirations, after all.

Conor swallowed down his word at the tip of his tongue and silently turned the wheel.

When the beam of the searchlight from Monti's ship pierced through the darkness and landed on the Narwhale, Charles emerged from the ship's bridge. He lifted his prosthetic limb and aimed it at the exploration vessel.

A grappling hook shot out and latched onto Monti's ship. Activating the mechanism with his thoughts, the chains retracted, and Charles was whisked over effortlessly.

Watching Charles' figure disappearing from the Narwhale, Conor took out a pendant from his chest pocket. His intense gaze bore into it for a couple of moments before he put it away again.

With slightly bloodshot eyes, he muttered to himself, "Misha, rest assured. Now that I'm a central islander, I'll be able to snatch you back from them."

Meanwhile, Charles had landed on Monti's ship. The moment he got on the deck, he saw Monty cradling a glass bottle that contained a purple crystal the size of a grapefruit.

Noticing Charles, Monti immediately took a few steps forward and welcomed him. "Governor, the crystal glowed for a brief moment earlier. I believe if we venture a little closer, we'll be able to establish contact."

Charles pointed an index finger at the crystal and questioned, "This relic of yours is not going to fail us at the critical moment, will it?"

"There'll be absolutely no problem. This Transmission Crystal is a family heirloom. My great-grandfather discovered it in the stomach of a giant fish, and we have been using it for close to a century. It has saved us a couple of times as well."

Charles scrutinized the crystal, and he felt weird. He felt like the crystal was staring at him as well.

Glancing at Monti, whose face was perpetually gloomy, Charles took a step back. The potential drawbacks of this relic were probably more serious than he thought.

Before Charles could question what were the side effects of using the crystal, Monti's eyes suddenly narrowed into slits as he peered into the distance. "Governor, look over there. Something's approaching."

Charles whipped around and followed Monti's gaze. He soon spotted a vague, white shape looming under the distant waters.

"Don't look at it. Pretend it's not there. Signal to the Narwhale to divert course," Charles gave the most logical command. No matter what it was, he wanted to avoid unnecessary trouble.

Bright yellow flags were swiftly waved, and the fleet promptly changed direction and distanced themselves from the chilling apparition.

Just when Charles thought that this minor event had blown over, the ghostly white shape appeared once again; this time, it was much closer to them for Charles to even discern the barnacle-covered deck.

It was a steamship, a ghostly steamship that was sailing beneath the waters.

The ship was covered in a thick layer of barnacles and coral. Their ghostly luminescence mirrored the cold glow of the moon, rendering the ship glaringly visible.

Indeed, trouble always brewed at the most critical moments. Charles' face turned a shade darker.

He knew that the ghost ship had him in its sight. Without sparing a moment of hesitation, Charles issued the order to attack.

Cannons roared, and columns of water shot skyward. However, when the turbulence settled, the ghostly ship seemed unharmed. It was as though it was a mere reflection on the water's surface.

Seeing that cannon balls were of no use, Charles took out the Lightning Rod from within his coat.

Just then, the spectral vessel rapidly rose to the water's surface. A nauseating stench of rotting mire immediately filled the air. A translucent, luminescent figure in shimmering green emerged from the cabins.

It seemed to be a specter. He wasn't clad in the typical attire of the captains in the Subterranean Seascape. Instead, he donned a crisp, sharp, navy uniform.

The crew stared in horror, but out of their expectations, the ghost offered a military salute to Charles from the distance.

"Greetings, sir. I'm the captain of the cargo vessel D134. We have lost our way. Could you kindly direct me to Eastford?"

Scrutinizing the strange specter, Charles quickly made a calculation in his mind. He responded with caution, "I'm not familiar with the location of this Eastford that you mentioned."

No matter what the figure was, he didn't want to provoke this spectral captain.

Upon hearing Charles' words, a hint of confusion crossed the ghost's translucent visage. "You don't know where it is? How could that be? It's that place with an escalator leading to Newbound City. Have you not heard of it?"

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