Morris sat on the first floor of the antique shop, waiting for time to pass with great nervousness.

It was still raining heavily outside the window and the wind was howling. After being blocked and weakened by the doors and windows, the sound of the wind and rain turned into a more disturbing and weird howl, coming from all directions again and again like waves hitting an isolated island in a storm. Outside the window not far away, the scenery across the street could no longer be seen clearly.

Nina and Shirley also came to the first floor. The two girls ran to the window, looking at the wind and rain outside nervously, whispering something from time to time.

The mysterious lady named "Alice" seemed to have no such nervousness at all. She was also looking out the window, but there was only curiosity and joy in her eyes, a kind of joy... that Morris could not understand.

"The scenery in the city-state is really interesting," Alice suddenly spoke. Amid the sound of wind and rain, her abrupt voice carried an inexplicable magnetism and penetration. "But I see that you all seem very nervous... Is this scary?"

"Miss Alice, aren't you afraid?" Nina heard the noise here, turned her head and asked curiously.

"Don't be afraid, it's very interesting," Alice smiled and shook her head modestly, "and Mr. Duncan will solve all the problems."

"Miss Alice, do you know what happened?" Nina bit her lip and asked bravely. She looked into Alice's eyes, at this beautiful lady who had known her uncle at some point and seemed to have a good relationship with her uncle, but whom she had never met before. "You seem... to trust Uncle Duncan very much?"

"I trust him very much," Alice said matter-of-factly. "I don't know what's wrong. Mr. Duncan will sort it out in the end."

Her overly frank and straightforward attitude made Nina speechless for a moment, not knowing how to continue the topic. At this moment, an extremely loud thunder exploded just outside the window. The sudden loud noise startled everyone and interrupted the conversation in the store.

Shirley and Nina subconsciously covered their ears and shrank their necks, but Morris seemed to sense something after a brief moment of shock and suddenly looked out the window.

"Vanna is back..."

The old man muttered to himself, and then repeated it again, this time raising his voice: "Vanna is back!"

"You mean the Inquisitor?" Shirley turned around in surprise when she heard Morris suddenly yelling, "What happened to the Inquisitor? What do you mean he's coming back or not?"

Morris paid no attention to Shirley, because he didn't know how to explain this problem. He just suddenly let out a long sigh of relief. Although the chaotic and fragmented memories in his mind were suddenly integrated out of thin air, he seemed to have seen a ray of sunshine on this stormy day, and he felt calmed down.

The old man reached out and picked up the teacup beside him.

At this moment, he even felt that this hard-to-swallow cup of tea became a little...tastier.

※※※

The green wall of fire faded away, and the dim underground temple returned to its previous appearance. Only the last cluster of flames remained floating quietly beside Duncan, allowing him to see clearly in this dark place.

Vanna has left "this side" and is now on the other side of the curtain.

She was like a striking beacon, clearly outlining the trajectory of breaking through the curtain for Duncan. Duncan could feel how she left here - and could also confirm that his idea was established.

He exhaled lightly and looked up at where Vanna was last.

"...To be honest, that jump slash is really scary."

He muttered softly, then turned and walked towards the entrance of the underground sanctuary, coming near the closed door.

The door had closed again, and a scarred body was slumped against the door. She was holding the door tightly with her body, holding a long sword in her hand, and her body was covered with sword marks and blood.

Among the criss-crossing sword marks, the numbers "1885" carved by the nun with her last bit of strength can be vaguely seen.

Reincarnation goes on as usual, over and over again.

History has been solidified here, and Vanna's intervention did not stop the cycle of this closed space-time from continuing. Although she is indeed very powerful, she does not yet have the ability to interfere with the operation of space-time.

Duncan stood quietly beside the nun for a while, then slowly stretched out his hand. At this moment, the nun's body suddenly moved. She slowly raised her head, and with her weak eyes she managed to open, looking at the uninvited guest in front of her with curiosity and confusion.

"...Oh, just as I thought before, you are not dead at the moment you are holding the door." Duncan met the nun's gaze and said calmly, "Do you have anything to say?"

"...I had a brief dream. I dreamed that a battle sister appeared here. She tried to let me rest in this cycle, but she failed," the nun said softly, "...She really came, right?"

"She has tried her best, but this is not her area of ​​expertise. Now she has returned to her battlefield." Duncan bent down and gently placed his hand on the blade of the nun's long sword. A tiny green spark danced on his fingertips and flowed on the edge of the long sword like water. "I will take over the rest."

"...Are you also a defender of the city?" The nun seemed to have no strength to open her eyes completely. She drooped her eyelids and murmured softly as if she was half asleep, "I haven't seen you..."

"I'm not," Duncan shook his head slightly, "but I could be for now."

The nun seemed to no longer be able to hear his voice. Her eyelids were completely closed, as if she was slowly entering a dream. In the last moment before the eternal sleep, she moved her lips and whispered softly: "...Please witness..."

“I witnessed it.”

Dark green flames rose into the sky, and as Duncan finished his words, they suddenly swept through everything in his sight. The nun, her sword, and the blood around them were all turned to ashes in the flames. Under his conscious control, all the supernatural powers here were completely stripped away in this burning.

The flames burned out, not only the body, but also the closed cycle of time and space. In the dim underground temple, only a tiny spark remained jumping on the ground, flowing like a trickle in the sword scar, and finally burned the string of numbers "1885" before disappearing.

Duncan waited for it all to be over before shaking his head and sighing, then stepped forward and opened the door that led to the above-ground structure of the chapel.

This was the first time the door had been opened from within the crypt since 1885.

Duncan climbed the long staircase up to the ground level of the chapel, passed through the collapsed main hall, through the rows of abandoned benches and the ashes on the ground, and walked towards the street outside.

Gloomy green flames appeared like phantoms, gathering and forming in the air around him, spreading and burning all the way outward with his footsteps. The spiritual fires that had previously been spreading inside the curtain sensed the approach of its master, resonated, gathered, and began to burn fiercely in the chapel.

When Duncan walked out of the door and looked back at the chapel, the entire building was shrouded in a powerful spiritual fire.

And further away in the field of vision, in every corner of the block, in the neighboring blocks, and even at the end of the city-state, clusters of spiritual fires were constantly leaping, spreading, and burning, turning into torches of various sizes, and gradually connecting into a continuous piece.

Those were the spiritual fires that suddenly turned "activated" after sensing Duncan's appearance behind the curtain.

Unknowingly, they have spread to such a vast area.

As the flames burned, Duncan also felt that something was awakening in this city-state - roars sounded one after another, the ashes and smoke in the streets and alleys were wriggling and undulating, and red flames rose from everywhere, looking very fierce.

Duncan raised his head and looked in a certain direction deep in the city-state: "It may be a little late to get nervous now."

※※※

On the Lost Homeland, Duncan pushed open the door of the captain's bedroom. He strode to the navigation table, leaned on the table with both hands and looked at the sea chart. He said in a low voice: "How far is it to the city-state?"

"Oh, great captain, there are less than two days left," the goat-headed man's attentive voice came immediately, "theoretically, we may now run into merchant ships or naval patrol ships doing business between city-state routes..."

Duncan listened to Goat-Head's chattering without interrupting him. He was just thinking about something silently. Then he suddenly stood up and left the navigation table, pushed open the door of the captain's room and walked out.

The goat-headed man's surprised voice came from behind: "Ah, Captain, what are you going to do?"

Duncan had already strode out of the captain's cabin, crossed the poop deck, walked up the stairs, and came to the platform above the captain's cabin. He answered casually in his mind: "I will take the helm myself from now on."

"...Yes! Captain!"

The goat head responded loudly, and the next second, Duncan felt the entire hull of the Lost Homeland tremble slightly. In his perception, the ship seemed to suddenly become "active", and every living part seemed to be perked up.

And when he grasped the steering wheel, the ship, which had been prepared long ago, immediately entered its best condition - the translucent spiritual sails became more inflated, the taut cables vibrated in the air, the hull made a low murmur as the waves hit it, and the sea surface around the entire ship seemed to be pulled by an unknown force, with layers of waves coming one after another as if to push the ship forward!

The speed of the Lost Hometown suddenly increased.

Duncan breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the distance between himself and the body in the antique shop getting closer and closer.

But suddenly, an inexplicable feeling emerged from the bottom of my heart.

It is a subtle perception that is detected from a distance and regarded as a "target" by others.

It was as if the moment he took the helm, something suddenly sensed the existence of the ship and was heading straight towards him.

Duncan frowned and looked in the direction where the subtle perception came from. Almost at the same time, he heard the voice of the goat head in his mind:

"Captain, the Sea Mist appears near us."