日本少妇被黑人xxxxx

Chapter 736: Leaving the Holy Island

Even the seasoned church warriors, accustomed to the perils of the border seas, felt a surge of tension in this unsettling environment. The sailors, armed with enchanted steel swords, lanterns, and amulets, advanced cautiously, ever-vigilant against the restless shadows lurking beside the path. Amber, wielding a long sword, walked alongside Vanna, softly reciting prayers to the Storm Goddess. Like gentle ocean waves, the soothing sound of her words shielded the warriors’ minds from the insidious whispers and corrupting influence of the demons. Leading the group was a death priest adorned in tattoos, holding a sacred box of holy bone ash. His presence seemed to dispel the fog momentarily, causing the figures of the demons to fade and creating a brief, peaceful passage for their return.

Observing the church warriors’ adept handling of the perilous journey, Duncan felt a sense of relief wash over him. He walked with a calm demeanor at the rear of the group, his thoughts deeply introspective.

After some time, they successfully navigated through the wild, untamed interior of the island and reached the main road leading to the dock. The coastline was now tantalizingly close.

From the thick fog ahead, the sounds of cannon fire and explosions erupted, intermittently lighting up the sky with enormous flames. These fiery bursts illuminated a large swath of the sky, painting it a stunning, fiery red.

“Ship-like ‘imitations’ and enormous wandering demons have emerged in the nearby sea, engaging our fleet in fierce battle,” Amber reported, her expression grave. She held a long sword in one hand, and in the other, a lantern adorned with storm patterns. “Scouts report that part of the Holy Island is undergoing a disturbing transformation. Sections of the sea cliffs appear to be softening and collapsing into the water. Though this side of the island remains unaffected for now, it’s evident that the entire island is, in some manner, ‘awakening’.”

Duncan lifted his gaze, observing the enormous stones in the mountains that seemed to come alive in the mist, and the sinister black tentacles emerging from the nearby hills, snaking their way down towards the lower regions.

“This island, just as Shirley described, is indeed a ‘piece of flesh’ from the Nether Lord. The entire island is a part of his tentacle, reaching into our world. It appears he’s now starting to rectify this ‘error’.”

With a hint of regret in her tone, Amber said, “…It’s a shame about all the hidden truths buried here.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “If we had more time, we could have conducted a thorough exploration of this island. The Annihilators have been rooted here for centuries. There must be a myriad of dark, sinister secrets concealed within… perhaps even the secrets of their hidden bases and lists of operatives in various city-states…”

Hearing Amber’s words tinged with a sense of loss, Duncan remained silent. His eyes followed the ongoing collapse and deformation of the island, and his mind wandered back to the astonishing yet desolate and dark “mountain range” he had witnessed in the depths of the deep.

Ten thousand years had passed… “Navigator One,” initially intended to reshape ecosystems, had transformed into a grotesque and twisted giant due to its uncontrolled growth. Its limbs extended through the dimensions until it reached the real world, continuously growing without end.

This led Duncan to ponder that even if the Boundless Sea had not experienced a “malfunction,” even if Vision 001-The Sun had continued to sustain it, the ceaseless expansion of Navigator One alone might have been enough to trigger another apocalypse.

And this “apocalypse” seemed not too far off—perhaps within the next century, Navigator One’s exponentially growing form would fill the entire deep sea and then wildly spread across all dimensions. Its tentacles would penetrate every city-state, sprawling across the entire sea, entwining all the ships navigating its waters, until everything in the world was once again consumed by its “creator,” becoming part of that black, oozing mud and writhing tentacles.

…Was this the vision that those deluded Annihilators saw in their hallucinations? As they prophesied—one day, the Nether Lord would return to this pitiful world, primal material would erupt from its depths, and the entire world would be reverted to its pure, original state…

In a way, those fanatical devotees had indeed glimpsed a fragment of this world’s “truth,” perhaps through a fleeting connection with the Nether Lord, or in their transformation into demons and their reckless contact with the Primal Element… They had seen a glimpse of the future and interpreted that dreadful prospect in the manner they chose to understand.

Duncan inhaled deeply, his head slowly shaking in contemplation.

He recalled his encounter with Navigator One, which had extended an invitation for him to “take over” the stewardship of this refuge. Navigator One had expressed a hope that Duncan would incinerate its massive, now uncontrollable body in the process. Reflecting on this, Navigator One had serenely acknowledged that such an act would serve as a form of “liberation,” a release from a burdensome, prolonged mission.

It became evident to Duncan that sustaining this shelter had been a long and arduous task, one that could exhaust even an ancient “machine” to the point of desperation.

With renewed conviction, Duncan reaffirmed his resolve to seek an alternative solution.

He realized that maintaining this shelter was not the optimal choice—at least, not the best one conceivable.

After navigating a series of challenging events, Duncan’s team finally made it back to the hidden dock, nestled within the protection of an inner bay and cliffs. The small boats they had used to arrive here were still moored, bobbing in the choppy waters.

Among these, the landing boat from the Vanished stood out conspicuously due to its violent rocking.

In a peculiar sight, the boat’s bow was thrust skyward, sticking out of the shallow water like a blade of foxtail grass, bouncing and swaying. Upon the arrival of Duncan and his team, the boat suddenly “thumped” back onto the water’s surface, then, with its oars shaking, hurried to the shore, eagerly swaying as it slapped the water with its paddles.

Duncan remained speechless at this bizarre spectacle.

After a moment of silent observation, Lucretia turned to Duncan, her voice tinged with reluctance, “Papa, I’m not really sure I want to get on that boat…”

“It is somewhat embarrassing,” Duncan admitted with a soft sigh after a brief pause. “But let’s board it anyway. We’ve come too far to abandon it now. If we do, it might just sink itself right here—and we already have more than enough ghost ships in this world. Explaining another resentful landing craft would be quite a challenge…”

With a resigned sigh, Lucretia, mixed emotions evident, followed her father onto the peculiar small boat.

The three rowboats departed from the dock, swiftly cutting through the water towards the exit of the small bay, engulfed in a dense fog illuminated by flashes and filled with the sound of booming explosions.

As they cleared the bay and the nearby main battleships came into view, Shirley suddenly seemed to sense something alarming. She abruptly turned her head towards the small island.

Her eyes, glinting with a faint, blood-like light, slowly widened in horror.

“The island is starting to sink!”

In the midst of a series of thunderous booms, the entire Holy Island began to collapse and slump, resembling a soft substance losing its structural integrity. Its cliffs flowed downwards like melting wax, black mud oozing from every pore of soil and rock. Massive tentacles and jagged limbs emerged through the softened cliffs and coasts, thrashing wildly in the swelling sea. Amid the chaos, countless frenzied demons scurried and roared along the collapsing cliffs, attempting to flee yet seemingly tethered by an unseen force, unable to leave the confines of the Holy Island. They were doomed to “sink” along with the entire island into the abyss…

Duncan observed intently as the Holy Island underwent a remarkable transformation. Instead of sinking beneath the waves in a typical manner, it appeared as though it was “dissolving” right on the surface of the sea, like ice melting under the sun.

It dawned on him that Navigator One was in the process of “retracting” this erroneously extended limb back into the shadows.

Despite the imminent collapse of the shelter and the irreversible state of its own being, Navigator One was still striving to correct the system’s errors to the best of its abilities, staving off the ultimate breakdown for a little longer.

But Duncan couldn’t help but wonder: How many more times could this tactic of “delaying” actually work?

Seated at the stern of the boat, Duncan and Alice gazed back at the Holy Island. It was almost entirely “dissolved” into the sea now, its final contours wavering in the increasingly dense fog, fading like a slowly vanishing dream.

Just before that last outline disappeared completely, Duncan faintly caught a voice—a deep, resonating tremor that seemed to ride on the breeze.

“Don’t forget our agreement, Usurper of Fire…”

Feeling a grip on his arm, Duncan turned to see Alice, her deep purple eyes the most distinct feature in the foggy atmosphere.

“I heard him speaking, Captain.”

“I heard it too, Alice. Do you think you can still locate where he is?”

Alice nodded thoughtfully, then scratched her head, “Hmm, I’m not entirely certain of the exact method, but I feel like… if you need to find him, I can lead you there. I remember… the ‘path.\'”

Duncan gave a gentle nod of acknowledgment, “That’s enough for now.”

After a brief hesitation, Alice cautiously asked, “So… are we going to return to find him?”

“I believe… we will,” Duncan affirmed.

“And when do you think that will be?”

Duncan pondered for a moment before responding, “…At least before the end of the world.”