初次尝了销魂少妇

Chapter 675: The Gathering

Indeed, this surreal scenario was actually unfolding.

The Vanished had arrived precisely at the scheduled time and location—the tranquil waters near the grandiose Grand Storm Cathedral, not far from the bustling Wind Harbor. There, the ship dropped anchor, and soon, small boats from the four Arks began to approach, carrying the esteemed leaders and bishops of the Four Churches.

Shirley, a young and curious onlooker, was stealthily watching from behind the stern deck railing. Her eyes were fixed on the clergy assembled below, who appeared visibly unsettled, with some trying to hide their anxiety behind a calm facade. She leaned in and quietly said to the shadowy figure beside her, “Can you believe they actually had the guts to show up here? Look at that bald man over there, his forehead is glistening with sweat!”

Emerging from the shadows, Dog, her companion, replied in a muffled voice, “This is quite terrifying. Remember how we used to have to sneak around these high-ranking clergy in the city-states to avoid being detected…”

“Times have changed, haven’t they?” Shirley remarked, her voice tinged with pride. “Now, it seems the tables have turned. Here on this ship, they should be wary of us. Hey, what do you think about jumping out and scaring them? We don’t get opportunities like this very often…”

Dog considered it and then replied, “I could, but then you might face the captain’s wrath. Should I really do it?”

“Just kidding, just kidding,” Shirley quickly dismissed the idea with a laugh.

Meanwhile, on the deck, Luni, a meticulously crafted mechanical clockwork doll, was efficiently escorting the arriving clergy across the central deck toward the main door that led to the ship’s cabins. Luni paused for a moment, glancing back towards the stern deck where Shirley and Dog were hiding. Turning to address a storm cleric dressed in the ornate robes of a bishop, Luni explained in a calm, measured tone, “That’s Miss Shirley, a protégé of the old master. Please, there’s no need for concern.”

“But, I can sense the presence of a shadow demon nearby…” the visibly uneasy storm bishop remarked, indirectly referring to the entity beside Shirley.

“That’s Mr. Dog, Miss Shirley’s protective companion, also a disciple of the old master,” Luni clarified serenely. “There’s no reason for alarm.”

The storm bishop looked on, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity.

Unperturbed by his puzzled look, Luni clapped her hands and began addressing the newly arrived clergy, “Before we proceed, I would like to review some important safety protocols.”

As the group gathered on the Vanished, a mix of apprehension and curiosity filled the air. The ship, shrouded in myths and a palpable sense of the unknown, was about to provide its visitors with an orientation quite unlike any other.

“The ropes on this vessel may seem to move on their own. Should you find yourself entangled, do not panic; they are just engaging in a bit of playful behavior. Politely request their release, and they should comply,” the clockwork doll began, addressing the group with an almost whimsical tone. “You may also notice buckets moving around on their own—this is normal. They are usually transporting various items. Additionally, if you come across a silver-haired doll’s head separated from its body, kindly bring it to the main mast. There, you will find a talking dove. Hand the head over to it, and it will ensure the head is returned to its rightful place.”

“Furthermore, I must urge you not to venture into restricted areas. If you find yourself lost, it’s best to stay put. You are welcome to pray to your deities; however, remember that they will not help you escape from any locked cabins. Please remember the ‘rules’ I have outlined. If you encounter creatures that seem to be deep sea offspring, do not be alarmed. These are simply fish used in our kitchens. Ignore any unfamiliar shadows in the mirrors or lurking in dark corners—that is merely Lady Agatha enjoying a stroll. Rest assured, she does not visit the guest lounges.”

“Always remember, this ship is a safe haven, and the atmosphere is friendly. Should you ever feel as though your life is in peril, reassure yourself by thinking: the ship is safe and friendly. Reflect on whether your actions may have contravened the rules rather than questioning your surroundings.”

“In conclusion, I hope each of you has a rewarding experience during your time aboard the magnificent Vanished. Meals will be served following the meeting. I can assure you that all the food provided is suitable for human consumption.”

With a courteous bow and a smile, the mechanical doll concluded her briefing and gestured for the guests to follow. “Please, follow me to the hall.”

The clergy, their expressions a mix of nervousness, skepticism, and cautious vigilance, observed their surroundings. The ghost ship, surrounded by its eerie legends and an air of danger, was not a place that easily fit into their conventional understanding of the world. The safety briefing from the unusual clockwork doll did little to ease their conventional sensibilities; instead, it only deepened the surreal experience they were having on board. Nevertheless, driven by their sense of duty and mission, they curbed their doubts and obediently followed the peculiar guide towards the cabins.

Away from the group, Vanna stood beneath a mast, her expression one of concern as she watched Luni efficiently manage the reception duties in the distance. She murmured softly, “I’m not sure if Miss Lucretia made the right choice in assigning Luni for reception duties. Perhaps it would have been better if Mr. Morris and I had been tasked with this responsibility…”

Helena, the dignified female pope, stood beside her, her demeanor calm and almost satisfied as she watched the events unfold. With an enigmatic smile and a gaze fixed on the distant deck, she commented, “I believe this is actually quite fitting. This experience will swiftly help them understand why I stressed the importance of ‘not overreacting’ before boarding and the need to accept everything on the Vanished as normal.”

Pausing, her eyes drifted towards the massive silhouettes of the arks on the distant horizon. She reflected, “The bishops are highly knowledgeable and possess supernatural divine abilities, yet they have been confined to the ‘orderly’ environments of the arks for far too long. Such ‘normality’ cannot be expected to last forever.”

Vanna sensed an underlying depth in Pope Helena’s words, a hidden layer of meaning that piqued her curiosity. However, before she could delve into her thoughts or pose a question, Helena initiated another conversation, steering their focus to the present moment. “Are you getting accustomed to life aboard this ship?” Helena inquired with an air of genuine interest.

Caught slightly off guard, Vanna responded promptly, albeit with a hint of hesitation in her voice, “Uh… quite well, actually. The people here are incredibly accommodating, and I’m being exposed to a wealth of knowledge that’s entirely new to me. Additionally, I’m gaining valuable experience in dealing with matters of heresy and sacrilege.”

“That’s excellent to hear,” Helena replied, her smile conveying a mixture of approval and encouragement. She then swiftly changed the subject, indicating the urgency of their next engagement. “Let’s continue this conversation after the meeting. We shouldn’t keep the ‘captain’ waiting.”

As Helena made her way toward the cabins, Vanna paused momentarily, her thoughts briefly interrupted. She then felt an intense gaze upon her. Curious, she followed this sensation and noticed a striking figure standing on the deck, a noticeable distance away yet unmistakably prominent among the others.

This figure was Frem, the orc pope and leader of the Flame Bearers. He was an imposing presence, dressed in simple robes that contrasted with his rugged, grey-white rock-like skin and deep, contemplative eyes. His nod from afar was a silent acknowledgment, a gesture that resonated with Vanna. For a fleeting moment, her mind wandered back to memories of vast deserts and an ancient giant who had accompanied her on a significant journey. Snapping back to reality, she shook off her momentary daze. After a brief hesitation, she resolved to head towards the cabins, the captain’s summoning echoing in her heart.

The gathering took place in the largest cabin on the upper deck of the Vanished, repurposed as a makeshift meeting hall. It was originally the ship’s dining room but had been modestly rearranged by servants sent by Lucretia to resemble a more formal meeting space. The setting was starkly different from the lavish sanctuaries and majestic temples found on the four Arks. However, for those assembled here, the simplicity of their surroundings paled in comparison to the supernatural nature of the meeting.

The Vanished, a mysterious ship reclaimed from subspace and known as the “Fifth Ark,” initiated by the Four Divinities, held profound significance. Every corner of the ship was steeped in historical and mystical importance, making the mere act of boarding a once-in-a-lifetime experience for even the most revered bishops of the church.

As the room cleared of non-essential personnel, magic doll servants dispatched from the Bright Star to aid in the proceedings closed the doors of the hall. The arrangement within the hall was notably distinct: ordinary clerics were seated along the perimeter, while the bishops were divided into four distinct groups, each representing one of the divinities. At the center, a circle of chairs had been arranged. Here, Helena, Frem, Banster, and Lune occupied four of these seats. Directly facing them were the true master of the ship and his select group of “followers,” setting the stage for a meeting that was bound to be anything but ordinary.

Duncan had meticulously designed the layout of the meeting space aboard the Vanished, and he could sense the weight of every gaze fixed upon him as he prepared to speak. The looks directed at him were a complex tapestry of intrigue and caution, reflecting the varied apprehensions and curiosities of those present. Despite the palpable tension that seemed to cling to the air, Duncan remained completely undisturbed.

Initiating the discussion, he addressed the assembly, his attention first settling on Helena, the Storm Pope. She was a figure of considerable importance in his journey, being the first legitimate religious leader he had encountered in this new world and one of his earliest connections to its civilized society. “We meet again,” he stated, a subtle acknowledgment of their past interactions and the significance of this gathering. “Welcome to my ship. I have kept my promise and continue to stand alongside ‘civilization.\'”

Maintaining the decorum and grace befitting her status, Helena acknowledged his greeting. However, her gaze drifted, almost involuntarily towards Vanna, who was seated not far from Duncan. The female pope’s demeanor remained poised and tranquil, yet there was an unmistakable flicker of something more complex in her eyes. Vanna’s choice to sit with the representatives of the Vanished, a decision she had made effortlessly, had not gone unnoticed by the followers of the storm.

Swiftly regaining her composure, Helena shifted the room’s atmosphere, which had been somewhat rigid and formal until then. “This is a closed-door meeting, and I presume everyone present is aware of its gravity. Therefore, let’s dispense with unnecessary formalities and delve directly into the matter at hand. We need to discuss the events that have transpired in our world and those that are imminent.”

Her gaze then turned to Lune, who was seated beside her, acknowledging his significant contribution to the discussion. “One of the most knowledgeable among us,” she noted, “has brought forth something that may shed light on the ‘Great Annihilation,’ particularly for those who are still grappling with the reality of this vision.”

Lune acknowledged Helena’s introduction with a nod, signaling to a scholar nearby. The scholar approached, carefully carrying an item draped with a black cloth. Duncan, along with everyone else in the room, watched with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

With a solemn expression, Lune removed the black cloth, revealing the object beneath. To Duncan’s initial surprise, it was a birdcage, inside of which sat a seemingly ordinary black bird, calm and composed.

Lune’s demeanor grew more serious as he lifted the cage for all to see. “This is a Black Guillemot,” he began, his voice carrying a tone of gravity. “However, it is also known by a more ominous name among scholars. ‘The Madbird’ – a title it earned following the notorious ‘Hyper Incident’ in the year 1726, an event that cast this little creature into infamy.”

Pausing for effect, he then added, “As for the ‘Great Annihilation,’ let us start our discussion with this little bird…”