Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 172: Chapter 176: Warm Family

Nina appeared in Duncan’s line of sight—the girl was trotting all the way, a pleasant smile on her face, and as soon as she saw her uncle sitting at the door of the antique shop in a daze, she picked up her pace and raised her hand to wave, “Uncle, I’m back!”

Duncan was jolted out of his reverie, and he set his thoughts aside for the moment, rising to greet his “niece.” Seeing the girl out of breath, he paused slightly and knitted his brows, “Didn’t I give you money for the bus? Why did you run back after school?”

After stopping in front of Duncan and catching her breath, Nina scratched her head with a bit of embarrassment and then reached into her backpack, searching for something. After a long while, she produced a small paper packet and handed it over, “I… on my way back, I passed by Dr. Albert’s clinic…”

Duncan took the packet and felt it, realizing it contained a few pills.

“Dr. Albert said that using alcohol for pain relief, though your health has improved and you’ve successfully quit drinking, quitting alcohol forcefully can cause adverse reactions in someone who’s been drinking for a long time,” Nina explained in a low voice, “This is medicine to alleviate the symptoms of alcohol withdrawal. You can take one if you feel unwell… Also, Dr. Albert said if your health hasn’t worsened recently, you can completely stop the medication you were on before. But he still suggests you visit his clinic for a thorough examination when you have time…”

Duncan silently listened to Nina’s soft, even somewhat cautious explanation without speaking for a long time. Only after she finished did he silently tuck the small packet of pills carefully close to his body.

Then he reached out and placed his hand on Nina’s hair, gently ruffling it.

“Uncle?” Nina looked up with a hint of confusion, only to see Duncan’s face bearing an indescribable seriousness, even a touch of worry. This made her sensitive mind suddenly uneasy. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill? Or…”

“I’m fine,” Duncan suddenly smiled, bending down slightly to look into Nina’s eyes, “but from now on, don’t use your bus fare to buy me medicine—there’s no shortage of money at home, you can carry more pocket money on you… and ask me for more if it’s not enough.”

Nina looked at Duncan somewhat blankly, feeling that her uncle had suddenly become a bit odd without being able to pinpoint exactly what was amiss. It took her quite a while before she hesitantly nodded, “Oh, oh…”

Then, after thinking a bit, she peeked into the shop, her face revealing a look of anticipation mixed with hesitation, “Uncle, about that… you said you’d teach me to ride a bike after school…”

“The weather isn’t good right now,” Duncan raised his eyebrows, “it might rain.”

“We’re just at the entrance,” Nina whispered eagerly, clutching Duncan’s arm, “if it rains, we can immediately go back…”

Duncan laughed and nodded helplessly, “Alright, put your backpack away, and I’ll teach you to ride a bike—but only for a little while, dinner isn’t made yet.”

“Yay!”

Nina let out a small cheer and then ran into the antique shop like charging forward, tossing her backpack onto the counter, and pushing out a brand-new bike. Her pushing was clumsy, and she struggled by the doorway for a while before she finally managed to get the bike to Duncan.

“…Actually, I think you need to learn how to push a bike from scratch,” Duncan sighed amusedly at Nina’s awkward movements, then moved forward to steady the handlebars, “but seeing how eager you are, get on first—I’ll hold the bike for you, so you can get a feel for pedaling and balancing while moving.”

Nina nodded obediently and, once Duncan steadied the bike, grabbed the handlebars tightly and clambered onto the seat, emphasizing anxiously as she exerted effort, “You must hold it steady, uncle! Don’t let go, please!”

“Alright, alright, just trust me…”

A briny, cool breeze swept through the antiquated streets of the Lower City District, lifting leaves and dust among the dilapidated buildings, with dark clouds hanging low. The impending rain seemed indecisive, lingering in the sky without falling to earth for a long time.

In front of the antique shop, on a small open ground, rose the girl’s excited and nervous exclamations, the intermittent ringing of the bike bell, and Duncan’s occasional guidance and teasing.

A classic black sedan stopped on open ground near the antique shop, and an old man in an old-fashioned scholar’s wool coat, holding a cane and wearing a low bowler hat, pushed open the car door and looked up toward the direction of the antique shop.

Morris saw the familiar, old-fashioned store, as well as the uncle and niece practicing cycling in the open space in front.

The common street scene of the Lower City District, warm and ordinary family routine; everything looked so normal, and even under the melancholy street scene with the low clouds and chill autumn winds, the scene not far away appeared exceptionally warm and peaceful.

Yet Heidi had spent only half a day in the antique shop and exhausted one of the protections of God of Wisdom Rahm—and that was with the protection of a Deep Sea Judge.

And after the incident, neither Heidi herself nor Judge Fenna had detected any abnormalities.

Morris took a breath, and despite the normalcy of the scene, his heart began to beat faster.

He then bit his lip and refrained from rashly greeting the uncle and nephew in front of the antique shop. Instead, he decided to first complete his observation of the shop—if possible, he really didn’t want to involve unrelated people in Transcendent events.

The old man fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out a monocle with a thin gold chain. The delicate chain was clipped to the inside of the pocket on one end, and connected to the frame on the other. The frame was engraved with the name of the God of Wisdom Rahm in ancient Cretan script, along with numerous Holy Symbols. Within the transparent lens, a faint light seemed to shimmer.

“May wisdom grant me the eye of insight, enlighten my mind, let me see the truth, and penetrate the fog…”

Morris whispered a few words of prayer and then placed the monocle over his eye. He then turned his gaze towards the antique shop and “opened” his eye that he had sealed voluntarily eleven years ago…

Morris blinked, lowering his gaze to the monocle in his hand, seeing Rahm’s name and the numerous Holy Symbols inscribed upon the frame. Within the transparent lens, a faint light shimmered.

“May wisdom grant me the eye of insight…”

He whispered a few words of prayer, put the monocle over his eye, and raised his head…

Morris blinked, lowering his gaze to the monocle in his hand.

A sudden cold breeze swept across from the other side of the street, carrying with it a deep murmur. The old scholar abruptly stopped the action he was about to continue, then suddenly lifted his right wrist.

A bracelet strung with colorful stones and silk thread adorned his wrist, bearing eight stones.

The chilly wind blew, carrying with it roadside leaves and the cold of deep autumn. The sounds in Morris’s ears seemed to fade away, the hustle and bustle of the street and the distant church bells all seemed as if coming from another world. He heard only his own heart pounding, the sound of his blood pulsing like thunder, and amidst this heartbeat, only the sound from one direction remained clear—

A girl’s voice, cheerful yet a bit anxious, “Uncle, hold on tight! Ah, it’s tilting… the bike is going to fall!”

A middle-aged man’s voice, warm and gentle, with a smile, “I’ve got it, it won’t fall—you just straighten the handlebar… keep pedaling forward, that’s how it is with bicycles, as long as you pedal and hold the handlebar straight, you won’t fall.”

“You have to hold on tight! I’m going forward now!”

“Go ahead, I’m right behind you.”

Morris suddenly heard another sound. It was the creaking of bones and joints, and with this sound, his field of vision before his eyes began to shift and turn slightly—he took a second to think, and finally realized what was happening.

He was slowly turning his head, shifting his gaze from the antique shop to the open space in front of the shop door.

A strong sense of warning surged from his soul. The bracelet, still with eight stones, emitted a low strange moan as if sobbing. Each stone turned searing hot, as if desperately trying to pull a drowning man out of the water, straining against his reason in vain. Morris was still capable of thought; he knew the blessings he had cast upon himself before setting off had been activated and were taking effect, but that was all the thinking he could manage—his neck kept turning, his sight involuntarily focusing on the most dangerous direction.

Close your eyes! Close your eyes! Close your eyes!

Innumerable voices exploded in his mind, yet Morris’s reason could not move his muscles to complete even this simplest of actions. His head turned slowly, and then at last, with his blessed eyes “open,” he saw the direction from where the sounds were coming.

He saw a frenzied, writhing vortex of light and shadow, a mirror that seemed to simultaneously reflect all times and spaces, crushed into fragments. These fragments melded together, forming a barely human silhouette, a giant strewn with starlight on its surface, hunched over carefully…

Assisting with the upsurge of an arcing blaze.

The world exploded in Morris’s mind, then all went quiet.

(Time for book recommendation: this time from Bahrun, “The World Doesn’t Need a Succubus to Save It,” still by a friend and reader, a fantasy-style light novel with a million words. The main character is a half-succubus male, worth checking out for those interested.)