Chapter 34: Acidic Torrent
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At some unknown hour, a fine, icy rain began to fall from the sky, and the blood-red seawater trailed dark crimson ripples behind the stern.
Guided by Inkfeather’s Raven, the repaired symbiotic vessel sailed into a relatively calm stretch of ocean.
The hull still groaned in pain from time to time, but the patches fashioned from deep-diving armor-beetle shells and ancient moss-green saliva stubbornly held back the corrosion.
Weariness lay upon every shoulder like a sodden quilt.
Chen Wu wiped the rain from his face and pulled a packet of compressed biscuits from his waterproof belt pouch. “Everyone, eat something. Conserve your strength.”
Lorin cautiously held out several carrots. “Little Moon... purified them. They’re safe.”
Su Liu casually took three pieces of dried rabbit from her pack—actually premium jerky stored in her spatial inventory—and tore open the wrapping.
“A little meat will keep us awake.”
Luke adjusted his glasses, the glare on the lenses concealing the scrutiny in his eyes. “Miss Susu certainly has abundant reserves.”
Su Liu did not even lift her eyelids. “I’ve been lucky. I’ve opened plenty of supply crates.”
Aya used a utility knife to slice the jerky into thin strips and distribute them among the others. Squeak-Squeak slept curled inside her collar.
Inkfeather sat alone at the bow, his black robes merging with the darkness. The Raven silently pecked at some kind of black granule in his palm.
Chen Wu broke the silence. “We’ll take turns standing watch, two hours each. I’ll take the worst part—the latter half of the night.”
Luke immediately spoke up. “I’ll team up with Susu for the first half.”
Su Liu hugged the little bundle in her arms, her tone flat. “Fine.”
Dusk swallowed sea and sky completely. Only the kerosene lamp at the stern remained, casting a pale-blue circle of light ten yards wide.
Luke sounded as though he were making idle conversation. “Those insect-men beneath Abyssback Reef... how did Susu persuade them? It was practically a miracle.”
Su Liu faced the pitch-black sea, her voice dissolving into the wind. “They mistook me for someone else. They thought I was the Lightbringer.”
Luke lowered his voice. “But the Lightbringer needs a specific token, doesn’t she? Something... special?”
Su Liu turned sharply.
The dagger flipped between her fingers, flashing coldly. “Mr. Luke, there are answers that... those who learn them do not live long.”
Luke froze, then gave two dry laughs. “...Only joking.”
He quietly retreated to the edge of the lamplight. In the shadows, the red glow of the mechanical spider’s compound eyes flickered faintly.
When the watch changed in the latter half of the night, Su Liu sat in a corner with her knees drawn up.
She had already sensed that something was wrong with the way Luke looked at her. Was he coveting her supplies?
It was time to start guarding against him.
If no one harmed her, she would harm no one.
So long as Luke behaved himself and made no other move, Su Liu would not go looking for trouble either.
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Su Liu’s fingertips brushed across the Dawn Hourglass. She quietly activated its slowing effect, allowing the energy she had expended while standing watch to gradually flow back into her.
Lead-gray clouds hung overhead like rotten cotton, while the sea churned with dark green foam.
A sour, putrid stench spread through the air, even more pungent than yesterday’s briny reek.
[Warning: Regional weather hazard escalating—acidic torrential rain incoming.]
[Hazard description: One bout of heavy rain per hour, each lasting fifteen minutes.]
“This is bad. Metal equipment is losing durability even faster!”
The moment Su Liu opened her eyes, she heard Aya’s worried voice.
A suppressed growl rumbled in Chen Wu’s throat. “Aya! Seal every gap! Lorin, keep an eye on the kerosene lamp!”
Seven minutes into the acidic downpour.
The lone lamp at the stern had already been wavering. Under the acid rain and the increasingly dense two-colored mist, its flame was squeezed down to a tiny, bean-sized blue glow, struggling to maintain a weak circle of light less than five yards across.
Rust-red blotches visibly spread across the metal along the gunwale, like wounds rapidly rotting open.
Luke gave a “stumble,” the toe of his boot precisely kicking over a spare oil can in the corner.
The viscous lamp oil spilled across the deck with a wet rush, quickly seeping into the cracks between the planks.
“The port drainage hole is blocked! I’ll take a look!”
He spoke rapidly. His gold-rimmed lenses reflected an unsettling glimmer in the dim light. At the same time, his shoulder turned almost imperceptibly, and the mechanical spider called the Analyzer silently slipped deeper beneath his collar, its compound eyes flashing red in hurried pulses.
“Susu, the bow lamp is yours!”
The direction he pointed was precisely where the blue mist was thickest, roiling like the entrance to an ice cellar.
Su Liu narrowed her eyes. Her gaze was sharp as a blade, instantly catching the mechanical spider’s fleeting abnormal signal.
Her face betrayed nothing. The instant she nodded, the dagger poised inside her sleeve slid coldly into her palm, its sinister gleam cleverly concealed beneath the crook of her arm.
Sizzle... hiss...
The sound of acid rain eating into the hull seemed to have been magnified by some invisible force.
Ahead, the strange red-and-blue mist finally tore through the curtain of rain. Like two venomous serpents entwining as they mated, it twisted and surged, baring its fangs as it lunged toward the base of the kerosene lamp—the symbol of life.
The air instantly grew bone-chilling and chaotic. The brittle crackle of ice crystals mingled with a dizzying, unnatural fragrance that spread everywhere.
Su Liu held her breath and kicked off against the slick deck with the tips of her toes, shooting toward the bow like an arrow loosed from its string.
The little bundle in her arms suddenly bristled. “Ying!” it shrieked in warning.
Deep within the mist ahead, something changed.
The dense fog churned madly. Several wisps of blue-black cold, like serpents flicking their tongues, twisted and condensed at terrifying speed.
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In the blink of an eye, several chains formed from pure ice crystals materialized from thin air. With shrill cries that tore through the air, they shot straight toward Su Liu’s ankles.
Deathly white frost glimmered at their tips. They had clearly been lying in ambush, waiting only for her to step into the trap.
“Slow!”
Su Liu’s command rang out in her mind.
The Dawn Hourglass suspended within her mental space burst into an almost imperceptible blue glow.
A sensation of temporal stagnation, lasting no more than a fraction of a fraction of a second, enveloped her.
Within that infinitesimal delay, her body erupted with coordination beyond the limits of physics.
She twisted at the waist and forced herself into a ghostly sideways slide that defied inertia, narrowly escaping the ice chains seeking her life.
Bang! Crack-crack-crack!
The ice chains slammed into the deck where she had stood moments before.
As though struck by an invisible giant hammer, the solid wood split and shattered instantly. A gash as wide as a bowl appeared, its edges rapidly spreading with web-like frost patterns. Bone-chilling cold and thick ice crystals burst in every direction.
“Ahhh—!”
A shriek, warped beyond recognition, exploded from the starboard side almost at the same moment, ripping through the wind and rain.
It was Lorin!
At some point, she had strayed from the central safe zone and become trapped in the heart of the freezing blue mist.
Half her body lay sprawled on the deck. She stretched out an arm in vain, trying to seize an oil canister that had slipped from her grasp and rolled away.
But frost had already climbed greedily up her legs, freezing her movements. Everything below her calves was almost entirely encased in ghostly blue ice.
The Moon Rabbit, Little Moon, had been flung into the air. It spun helplessly, its tiny pink nose—so terribly fragile—twitching faintly as it happened to inhale a strand of uncanny red mist seeping through a gap in the gunwale.
[Player Lorin is suffering deep frostbite corrosion! Health rapidly declining!]
[Player Lorin’s mind has been contaminated by the red mist! Sanity sharply decreasing!]
The cold system notifications and Lorin’s rapidly unfocused gaze struck everyone’s hearts like heavy hammers.
Little Moon’s body jerked rigid in midair. Its once-pure silver-moon eyes were instantly devoured by a violent blood-red.
Yet deep within those corrupted pupils, the final glimmer of silver belonging to its true nature flickered and struggled desperately.
It saw its owner’s legs sealed in ice. It saw tears sliding down Lorin’s deathly pale face. It saw the boundless terror in her eyes—and her concern for it.
“Guu—!”
A shriek, nearly a wail of grief, burst from Little Moon’s throat.