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Chapter 254: Maybe It’s Not Over



Despite unfolding in the real world, the situation escalated beyond its boundaries. An unknown terror lurked deep in the ocean, and ultimately, no one discovered its nature. People continued to lose their sanity, and the entire plan hastened as though plummeting into the abyss.

The never-ending descent, the increasingly unsettling atmosphere, and the Frost Queen’s almost autistic behavior in the later stages… Objectively, even Duncan would instinctively assume that Ray Nora, the original Frost Queen, had been manipulated and controlled by something, suspecting a conspiracy with subspace.

Under these conditions, it was worth noting that there were already adversaries of the Queen within Frost, and several city-states in the frigid sea held animosity towards her rule. Even if the northern situation was initially stable, it would eventually escalate over time.

Nonetheless, Tyrian consistently maintained that Ray Nora was never influenced by anything, and he firmly believed that the Frost Queen had been lucid until the end, always safeguarding the city-state.

Duncan couldn’t determine if Tyrian’s assessment was accurate, but he inclined to trust it because he, too, had seen the “Frost Queen” in historical fragments.

She had once calmly and logically asked him not to “tarnish history.”

At least from that single encounter, the Frost Queen of that era didn’t appear to be a horrifying madwoman under subspace’s control.

But because of this, Duncan’s curiosity grew. He couldn’t comprehend what motive would drive a lucid leader to make such extreme and autistic decisions, continuing to push forward the project at any cost despite knowing the issues with the Abyss Plan, and what reasoning led her to keep every secret to herself, not even confiding in her most trusted naval commander.

After extensive reflection, Duncan realized all questions ultimately converged on one issue: what “mystery” did the Frost Queen uncover in the ocean’s depths?

“…After the Frost Rebellion, did you ever return to that city-state?” Duncan raised his head and questioned Tyrian.

“No, Her Majesty Ray Nora commanded me to depart from Frost with my own direct troops. By then, the rebels had already conspired with other northern city-states, assembling an entire fleet in the open sea,” Tyrian’s tone grew especially somber, as he was clearly reluctant to discuss this past, “…But if I had defied her and remained, the Frostbite Kingdom would have retained a loyal force to the Queen, and those rebels could never have easily breached the port defenses…”

“Thus, subsequent generations have speculated that you took part in the rebellion. Some even claim that you deliberately allowed the rebels into the Frostbite Kingdom,” Duncan said, shaking his head, “Have you ever considered why the Frost Queen issued that order initially and whether she provided any further explanation to you?”

“…I’ve been perplexed by this for many years,” Tyrian confessed openly, “The Queen gave me no other directives, only to depart with my troops. I thought she might have intended to preserve a force for potential future retaliation, but… it didn’t add up. She prohibited us from returning to the city-state, and with the rebels in control, how could we exact revenge without going back?”

“You could raid the rebels’ fleets in the open sea and intercept all merchant vessels entering and leaving Frost. You did this for several years.”

“Yes, that was the only course of action I could conceive at the time, and it was also the sole means for the Mist Fleet to endure… We didn’t even have a home port back then,” Tyrian shook his head, “But we have gradually ceased these raiding activities.”

“Why?”

“…Because the last rebel leader passed away, from old age,” Tyrian said with a wry smile, spreading his hands, “We persistently sought to apprehend those rebel leaders in every possible manner, hanging them from the mast when captured, then hurling their corpses onto the merchant ships bound for Frost. So they became crafty, hiding in the city-state, never venturing outside the city for decades. I could only watch them die peacefully, one by one, until all those involved in the rebellion had departed this world.”

Duncan remained silent for a while, deep in thought. Eventually, he abruptly asked, “Your soldiers, they’re all ‘living dead,’ correct?”

Tyrian casually replied, “Yes, it’s common knowledge.”

“They all directly or indirectly participated in the ‘Abyss Plan’?”

“I was involved in that plan, and as my direct troops, they naturally took part as well,” Tyrian said nonchalantly, then furrowed his brow, “Did you come to a conclusion?”

“You were part of the Abyss Plan but didn’t succumb to madness like the others in the later stages. After ‘one thousand meters,’ the Frost Queen disagreed with you and removed you from the plan. Then, on the eve of the rebel assault, your queen specifically instructed you to lead your direct troops away from Frost…”

Duncan spoke deliberately as he thought, finally fixing his gaze on Tyrian, his voice low, “You’re correct. The Frost Queen might indeed have wished to retain a force, but it seems she didn’t preserve this force for her own vengeance…”

Tyrian gradually displayed a somewhat surprised expression, but before he could inquire further, the figure in the mirror gently shook his head, “Don’t ask me, I can’t comprehend something you don’t understand yourself – I’m merely an observer, voicing my thoughts.”

A brief quietude settled in the room. After an indeterminate duration, Duncan’s voice emerged again, “Tyrian, we’ve conversed long enough this time.”

Preoccupied with his thoughts, the pirate instinctively raised his head, gazing at his father in the mirror with a hint of astonishment. It was as though he suddenly grasped something, a complicated expression of confusion materializing in his eyes.

It seemed as though he had just recognized how much he had shared with the other party, realizing that he had unknowingly adapted to the conversational atmosphere entirely – even a century ago, he seldom had such lengthy discussions with his father. As for his initial wariness upon awakening here… it had long since dissipated.

“I…” He instinctively wanted to say something, but a sharp pain on his forehead made him touch his head involuntarily, “Ah, that hurts…”

“…The child was not gentle. I hope you don’t hold it against her,” Duncan’s voice came from the mirror, “Do you need ointment?”

“No… no need,” Tyrian waved his hand with a somewhat odd expression, recalling the last scene he remembered before arriving here, the peculiar little girl, and the creature that flew in like a dog… Then suddenly realized, “Wait, I remember now, that wasn’t a dog, that was a dark hound!”

He looked at the mirror, his eyes filled with disbelief, “Is she also one of your subordinates now? An… Ender cultist?”

He seemed hesitant when uttering the words “Ender cultist,” clearly uncertain of Shirley’s true identity – after all, he had encountered beings like Enders before, but he had never seen one wielding a demonic pact weapon…

“She is indeed carrying out some tasks for me,” Duncan said with an enigmatic smile, “But if you have the chance to see her again, I suggest you avoid mentioning the term ‘Enders’ in her presence. She doesn’t appreciate it.”

Tyrian made a puzzled sound, then instinctively glanced around, his gaze eventually settling on Alice, who appeared to have begun daydreaming.

Alice quickly noticed and curiously looked at Tyrian, “Why are you looking at me?”

“Nothing,” Tyrian averted his gaze, his complex eyes concealing some indiscernible emotion. Finally, he looked at the mirror still ablaze with flames, asking somewhat hesitantly, “So, can I… leave now?”

“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Tyrian quickly waved his hand, “Ah… no, that’s not necessary…”

“Very well, I’ll arrange for my messenger to escort you…” Duncan in the mirror nodded, but suddenly, he furrowed his brow as if recalling something, “Wait, I just thought of something.”

Tyrian instinctively became a bit uneasy, “Something?”

“Strictly speaking, it’s two questions regarding one matter,” Duncan’s expression turned serious again as he fixed his gaze on Tyrian. “Do you recall what you mentioned earlier about several ‘clones’ of the Number Three submersible surfacing one after another?”

“Of course,” Tyrian nodded, “Including the first original and the subsequent six clones, a total of seven ‘Number Three submersibles’ surfaced.”

“I have two inquiries,” Duncan organized his thoughts and slowly began, “First, was the initial submersible that surfaced at that time… genuinely the original?

“Second, was the seventh submersible that surfaced truly empty inside?”


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