Weapons Control is normal.
Cargo hold is normal.
This is the Mourning Bell chamber; Joel is adjusting the Mourning Bell.
…
This is the corridor outside the captain’s cabin.
All normal.
Mo Sichen stared at the mottled matte paint on the bulkhead; those deliberately blurred metallic reflections were like a thin yet impenetrable fog.
Some viscous sense of wrongness was climbing along his spine — just like during his recent patrol, when he kept feeling a numbing touch brush the back of his neck, only to turn and meet his own blurred reflection on the bronze walls.
This was the twenty-seventh report.
At one report every two minutes, that made one hour — yet everything was calm, and the tidal gauge on his wrist showed they had remained in a tidal inert zone all along.
That was enough to make the soldier captain’s brow furrow tightly.
“Xiao Feng, tell me specifically what it is like in the captain’s cabin?”
The young man’s voice was hesitant and confused: “…Everything as usual? Just cruising normally in the safe zone around the city, chatting a bit…”
Absurd? Those were cunning foxes who could seize less than half a minute to set a trap, and who would not say half a word more before striking.
How could they possibly behave obediently?
He had entered the captain’s cabin several times midway to check on the young man’s condition.
He did not seem to be under control at all… or was the one reporting to him not Xiao Feng at all?
“Did they use any code words to communicate?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Be more specific. Is there any pattern to it, or is it completely impossible to make out? Does it sound unfamiliar or fluent?”
“They spoke very fast… I couldn’t make heads or tails of it either, but I’m not a spy, so it’s normal that I don’t understand, right?”
The soldier captain’s gaze sharpened, and coldness climbed up the back of his neck.
The two of them had only first met three days ago; how could they possibly be proficient in the same independent code?
Unless… those conversations were auditory hallucinations woven for him all along!
He pulled the gear shifter all the way up, and the sound of gears and clutches rang out again and again.
When the Mourning Bell talisman let out a groan of being overwhelmed at the overload setting, an invisible force field pressed every hair tightly against his skin.
His surroundings abruptly shifted from murky to clear, and by this he confirmed that he had not yet been deceived by spellcraft.
But the soft female voice in the communicator further froze his blood:
“The captain just raised the Mourning Bell talisman. Did something happen?”
That was a sweet, soft girl’s voice, but the teasing and composure hidden in the content of her words made the guard squad break out in goosebumps.
Could they monitor the ship’s interior in some form, with privileges granted to Candle People royalty? Mo Sichen’s thoughts raced as he tried to work out the ins and outs of the matter and considered whether he could bluff his way through with a lie —
A force field protecting the entire ship disappeared.
Breezes, now cold now hot, now fragrant now foul, blew in alternation through the silent air, beginning an untraceable riot.
Countless tiny cyclones were born and died within the cabin.
Rotting stench and pleasant floral scent alternately brushed past his nose, while the steel bulkheads trembled as if shivering.
Twisting creaks came from the rivets, as if they were struggling to resist the invasion of some force.
Tidal, tidal turbulence! Without the Mourning Bell chamber’s protective force field, tidal erosion is affecting the entire Brass Loom!
“Captain! Captain! This is the Mourning Bell chamber. Joel has locked the Mourning Bell effect to minimum! Are we in tidal turbulence now? But the tidal gauge…”
Mo Sichen also looked at the gauge on his wrist — tidal activity was low; the ship was in a safe zone.
The girl’s words rang in his ears once again:
“If it relies on Dome spellcraft or Candle People spellcraft, I can tamper with them without anyone noticing while the Brass Loom is operating.”
And the tidal gauges can only be made with Candle People spellcraft!
They bewitched Xiao Feng and paralyzed all the soldiers’ tidal gauges, so the Brass Loom could sail straight into the danger zone without anyone else knowing, into the tidal turbulence!
“All crew, stay calm!”
At a time like this, he had to steady their morale.
“Counting from when we left the city, the Brass Loom has been sailing for no more than one hour. Within this voyage, the tidal intensity is not yet enough to generate a tidal demon out of thin air!”
And another possibility flashed through his mind at that moment.
“Xiao Li, Old Yang, leave your posts and support the cargo hold area! Focus on checking the primal wax tanks. They may be being shaped into demons by tidal erosion!”
In this world, all matter except metal is some form of wax, including human flesh and blood; only the form and complexity differ — and primal wax is the simplest and most easily shaped of them all.
They are the best receptacles for wax sculpting spellcraft, and the greatest hidden danger under tidal erosion.
“This is the cargo hold. I haven’t found anything yet — damn! They’re drilling out of the walls, out of those iron boxes!”
From the other end of the radio came the friction of weapons being drawn, the pattering of monsters writhing, and the metallic clash of springs firing bullets.
Only when the conflict briefly subsided did the voice on the radio continue shouting.
“The demon’s form is serpentine, low-grade, with the head of a cat corpse and a snake body made of assorted garbage. It matches today’s tidal theme outside the city! We can hold for now!”
The situation was still controllable… and this would not be the last step in their plan.
Mo Sichen looked at the communicator in his hand; the rotating wheel inside seemed to summon him — amid the current chaos, Mo Sichen had every justified reason to “request aid” from Stained Glass City, and let the arriving ships seize control of the Brass Loom and end this conspiracy-filled cruise — all by gently pressing a single button.
He connected to the captain’s cabin: “Captain Corundum, the situation is critical. I want to request aid from the city.”
‘As my enemy, how will you respond?’
“Thank you for your effort. I am also trying to get the ship out of the tide.”
The girl’s voice was so flat, as if this were merely a routine chore close to scrubbing the floor, rather than the sword of Damocles that kept them from crossing the line.
Mo Sichen’s thumb hovered over the aid-request button; the cold touch of the metal key pierced his fingertip.
Was this a bluff?
Or did they already have the capital to stop worrying? Or… an even more exquisite trap?
Click — he was not the kind of fool who would be frightened into stopping by a little mystery.
Amid the crisp sound of gears meshing, a sharp pulse shot out from the rotating ring of the communicator.
Just as Mo Sichen was about to receive the city’s reply, the entire ship suddenly let out an even more desperate groan.
A vibration as if it were being gnawed by a giant creature came from beneath his feet, followed by damage alarms ringing throughout the ship.
“Port armor belt breached!”
“Wax fluid leak in the cargo hold!”
Successive massive tremors shook the ship, as if it were under bombardment from all sides, but through the porthole, Mo Sichen could only see piles of garbage and cat corpses; he could not see the slightest shadow of an attacker!