Gun of Ashes

Chapter 1043 - 64: Overlapping Origins

Under the pitch-black night sky, the Iron Armor ship sliced through the wind and waves, advancing towards the light source, but it didn’t get too close. Instead, it navigated the edges slowly, trying not to attract any attention.

"So these are the Viking Kingdoms? It’s really cold."

A muffled voice rose from beneath the beak-like mask, followed by white steam released from the filter.

After a long journey, the Plague Doctor finally arrived at the Viking Kingdoms, but he didn’t expose himself directly to everyone’s view. Instead, he sneaked in under the cover of night.

This is an era with extremely limited observational means. In these backward Viking Kingdoms, the Vikings had loose control over the sea, and no one noticed the arrival of these Iron Armor ships.

The Plague Doctor needed to keep himself hidden, as this action wasn’t announced to the Viking Kingdoms in advance, and these ships all came from Gaulunaro, carrying a large amount of weapons.

From the Viking Kingdoms’ perspective, rather than an expedition team, this seemed more like a secret fleet. The Plague Doctor fully had the capability to launch a surprise attack on Willerte with these weapons, and after the ambush... even he couldn’t predict what would happen next.

No matter how barren and backward it is, this is still the Viking Kingdoms. Trying to shake a country with such force seems quite ridiculous.

The Plague Doctor set aside all idle thoughts, aiming to pass through safely to the seas beyond the Viking Kingdoms.

"You call that place the Silent Sea?"

The Plague Doctor asked into the darkness behind him.

"The end of the Silent Sea is the domain of the Gods, the Holy Hall of souls," the Plague Doctor’s voice was full of excitement, "Have you ever been there? What does it look like?"

"How could I have been there? That’s a cursed sea, a realm of Gods, how can mortals trespass?"

A voice echoed from the darkness, sounding weak with a slight rasp.

"Oh? And what’s the matter with Froki you mentioned? You said he’s the most knowledgeable about the Silent Sea in the Viking Kingdoms, not only did he venture into the Silent Sea, but he also returned alive."

The Plague Doctor spoke with the figure in the dark, leaning against the railing, looking up at the night sky.

The stars were dim, all things lost their original luster, turning into a gray, cold world.

"Froki the Shipbuilder, he’s an oddity, an anomaly. He indeed explored the Silent Sea and returned alive. Some say he grasped some kind of pattern from the Silent Sea, and with enough sacrifice, one can return from it."

The man in the dark continued to respond, his voice seemed labored, each word exhausting his strength.

"Sacrifice?"

"Accurately speaking, offerings, sacrifices to the Gods."

The clouds dispersed, and faint starlight fell, barely lighting up the dark sea surface and slightly illuminating the things in the darkness.

A man lay paralyzed in a wheelchair, but rather than "human," at this moment he seemed more like a corpse. His withered, decaying body sank deeply into the chair, as though fused with it.

His body was tied with bloodstained bandages, covering skin scorched by flames. To keep him alive, the Plague Doctor performed surgery on him, amputating burned arms, leaving only one connected to infusion lines hanging from above, filled with blood bags and medication.

"To offer blood and flesh to the Gods..."

Zeus’s voice was hoarse, having inhaled hot air, the sudden heat destroying his throat, causing the Plague Doctor to cut open his throat, holding up the adhered airway.

The strangest thing was his body slightly twitching, as if something was moving beneath his skin, like snake-like creatures wrapping around the flesh.

"I always thought there were no so-called Gods. Even if there are, they are just beings we don’t yet understand."

The Plague Doctor pushed the wheelchair, strolling with Zeus on the deck.

Saving Zeus was indeed the right decision. This Viking not only endured the Plague Doctor’s surgery but brought a lot of useful intelligence.

The Plague Doctor headed north, primarily driven by his hypothesis. He suspected something existed in the north, and Zeus’s stories about the Silent Sea reinforced his suspicion.

"Froki... Seems I must visit Ice Bay."

The Plague Doctor felt a bit troubled, looking at the distant silhouettes on the sea.

Following him, these Iron Armor ships, although not marked with anything related to Gaulunaro, such a well-equipped fleet appearing in the Viking Kingdoms, would surely raise alarms, let alone appearing in Ice Bay.

Moreover, given the current situation, the Plague Doctor felt a headache. More notably, he wasn’t sure if Froki would cooperate with his operations.

The Plague Doctor needed Froki as a navigational guide. From Zeus’s words, he confirmed that Froki was the most knowledgeable Viking about the Silent Sea.

"But your will is truly strong. Do you want to live that badly?"

The Plague Doctor lowered his head, examining Zeus’s wretched and twisted figure. To save him, he spent a lot of effort. Zeus’s internal organs were failing, and to drag him back from death, the Plague Doctor performed transformative surgery on him.

Now, Zeus’s body uses organs from the Demon, his blood mixed with degraded Secret Blood. In an extreme survival instinct, Zeus maintained his rationality; within this malformed body, human will prevailed.

Zeus strained his mouth open, his words carrying the stench of blood.

"I’m not afraid of death, just afraid I won’t die heroically."

"Indeed, drowning can’t be considered heroic."

As the Plague Doctor spoke, he extended his hand, slowly peeling back the clothes on Zeus’ chest, revealing scars from numerous surgeries. Among them was a prominent tattoo that the Plague Doctor had noticed from the start.

A pitch-black cross.

"I’ve seen this symbol."

Throughout his long years, the Plague Doctor had witnessed many things come into being and pass away. He had discussed these matters with Lawrence.

The Plague Doctor had personally stepped onto the battlefield of the Radiant War, conducting research amidst the smoke as a field doctor. In even earlier times, he had traveled witnessing the rise and decline of the Evangelical Church.

He had lived for a long time, undergoing countless surgeries, transforming himself into his current non-human form.

Among these many experiences, the Plague Doctor encountered numerous unsolved mysteries, the most intriguing of which was the Black Cross.

"The end of all things..."

The Plague Doctor murmured, then stared into Zeus’ cloudy eyes.

"Are you a member of the Apocalypse Society?"

In the Plague Doctor’s memory, it was a fascinating group; they pursued absolute death, seeking to silence the world. The Plague Doctor once intended to study them, but every time he located them, all he found were bodies on the ground.

Based on the Plague Doctor’s understanding, survival is a biological instinct. Humans and beasts alike will strive to survive, even if they lose self-awareness, they will instinctively struggle.

Just like Zeus before him, he was on the brink of death, with no hope of survival, yet he still struggled, yearning for the light of life.

This is a law inscribed into the soul, but the Apocalypse Society seeks to defy this law, heading towards absolute death.

Could it be they truly believe in something after death?

The Plague Doctor did not believe in such things, yet he pondered over the end of Ascension, his thoughts falling into silence.

Existence is reasonable, even for the Apocalypse Society. Sweet words cannot make people abandon the iron law of instinct and embrace death. The Plague Doctor guessed there might truly be something after death?

Or perhaps just a lie.

"Interesting, so you’re not looking to survive but to find a way to die that achieves your purpose, correct?"

The Plague Doctor analyzed Zeus’ psyche, finding the man’s thoughts intriguing.

"This purpose is so vital that to die for it you’ll give everything to stay alive... how paradoxical this sounds," the Plague Doctor chuckled, "So, in the eyes of your Apocalypse Society, what truly lies in the world after death?"

Zeus remained silent, offering no answer.

Sharp, bone-like spikes broke through the glove, pressing lightly against Zeus’ heart with their piercing tips.

"Answer me, or you’ll die like this, in disgrace."

Zeus glared at the Plague Doctor, yet was powerless; the Plague Doctor had precisely struck his Achilles’ heel.

Indeed, Zeus was terrified. He was afraid to die here. He yearned for a heroic death in battle, only then could his soul find a true resting place.

"Heroic Spirit Hall," Zeus said.

"Heroic Spirit Hall? That’s all?"

The Plague Doctor laughed, never expecting that what drove Zeus was such an absurd belief. The Vikings had always been this way with their faith in Odin, yearning for death in battle, to have their souls rest in the Heroic Spirit Hall...

Wait a moment...

The Plague Doctor gazed into Zeus’ eyes, and his cloudy gaze gradually cleared, revealing a bright and resolute will.

Zeus genuinely believed in these things, so much so that to uphold his faith, he was willing to live in this twisted manner, until he met death again.

"I retract my mockery, so you’re saying... the Heroic Spirit Hall is real, in some corner of this world there truly exists a Heroic Spirit Hall gathering all warriors’ souls, right?"

Just like the Evangelical Church’s faith, perhaps God does exist, but whether that entity is a god or demon, none can say.

The Heroic Spirit Hall is similar; perhaps it isn’t an imaginary concept, but a real entity, distorted into an eerie form by the longing of faith.

"So... is it at the end of the Silent Sea?"

The Plague Doctor gently cradled Zeus’ face, posing the question.

The origins of the Evangelical Church, the power surge of Ingwig, the dwelling pursued by the Apocalypse Society, all converge at the end of that silent sea.