While running, Lawrence couldn't help but look back in the direction where Martha's voice came from.

However, apart from the thick fog that lingered on Dagger Island, he could not see anything - the voice seemed to ring directly in his mind, urging him again and again, urging him to leave the island, urging him to return to the White Oak, urging him... to leave here and go to Frost.

Martha is certainly not here.

But Lawrence still believed that this was a mysterious guidance - perhaps from his faith, perhaps from his subconscious, those clues and intuitions that he had never noticed were guiding him, guiding him to a way out of this predicament.

He ran towards the port, the cold wind and fog blowing in his face and whistling past his ears. His first mate and sailors surrounded him. The sound of artillery fire continued to come from afar, including artillery fire from afar and the sound of light escort artillery firing on the White Oak. Compared with the "enemy's" attack, the counterattack of the White Oak seemed weak and was obviously at a disadvantage.

"Martha" told him that the Petrel was coming - but which ship was the Petrel?

The port came into sight. At the end of the fog, the beautiful hull of the White Oak was still docked at the end of the pier. Fires lit up one after another at the bow and stern. The flashes of artillery bombardment tore through the mist, and on the nearby sea, huge columns of water could be seen rising into the air from time to time - that was obviously an attack from the enemy.

"The ship is still there!" The first mate shouted happily after seeing the White Oak. He was shouting to the captain and to encourage the breathless sailors, "Jason didn't abandon us!"

Jason was the name of the second mate on the ship.

"Goddess of Storms! Get on board and leave this damn place," a sailor shouted. "White Oak is just a target if it stays here!"

A group of people ran quickly towards the White Oak. There were shadows swaying on the ship. Obviously, the sailors who stayed behind had noticed the returning captain and his party. A rope ladder was lowered from the side of the ship. Two sailors on the edge of the deck raised lanterns and shook them in the air slightly anxiously.

The sailors who went ashore to explore ran quickly towards the rope ladder.

But suddenly, Lawrence stopped, pulled out his revolver and fired a shot into the air: "Stop!"

The sailors were startled by the gunshots and the captain's shouts. They stopped in shock and confusion, turned their heads and looked at each other. The first mate Gerson also stopped and looked at the old captain in confusion - but less than a second later, the experienced old seaman reacted and realized why the captain suddenly ordered to stop.

The first mate was breathing heavily. Amid the continuous sound of gunfire, he looked up and looked around, his eyes quickly scanning the sailors around him and the captain's figure.

Sixteen sailors stood around him in a daze, each face looked familiar, and Captain Lawrence looked at this side with a serious expression.

"How many people did we bring with us when we set out?" Lawrence said quickly.

"Besides you and me, there are..." The first mate spoke quickly, but he was obviously confused when he mentioned the specific number. However, he only paused for a second or two before he recalled it smoothly, "There are twelve more sailors!"

Lawrence looked solemnly at the group of people in front of him, counting them one by one in his mind.

And deep in his pupils, there seemed to be a faint green glow flickering.

"Four more people," the first mate beside him also quickly completed the count. The old seaman's face instantly became serious. He raised the muzzle of his gun and fired a shot into the air, saying loudly, "Everyone, keep a distance of one meter and spread out! Face the captain! Put your hands where you can see!"

The sailors also realized what was happening, and they all showed nervousness on their faces, but after all, they were experienced seafarers who had dealt with the vast sea for many years, so they naturally knew how to deal with this situation - under the command of the first mate, the sixteen sailors quickly dispersed.

The gunfire from the White Oak continued, and more and more water columns rose up around the harbor. The enemy called the "Sea Petrel" seemed to be gradually approaching. Lawrence's thoughts were boiling in the roar of the gunfire.

They couldn't stay here any longer. The White Oak would become a target if it stayed in the harbor. Its weak self-defense firepower and hull couldn't hold out for long. But he couldn't take the team back to the ship either, because some "things" on the island had obviously infiltrated. If they were brought back... the White Oak's fate would not be much better than being sunk by artillery fire.

He scanned the sixteen sailors in front of him, trying desperately to identify unfamiliar or unnatural faces among them - when did the four extra people sneak in? Was it when the team was passing through the thick fog? In the port office? Or when the team was temporarily panicked by the continuous explosions on the island?

The sailors also looked at each other quickly. At this moment, it seemed that no one could be trusted anymore, even... their own memories and judgments seemed suspicious.

“Captain,” Big Fergus’ voice reached Laurence’s ears at this moment, and the old seaman’s face showed a kind of determination. “The White Oak cannot stay here any longer—you must get on board.”

Lawrence's face suddenly became extremely serious: "What do you mean?"

"You take the boat and leave. I and the others will stay here. We will slowly figure out how to identify and deal with the 'things' that sneaked in. You can come back to pick us up when it's safe..."

Lawrence stared into the first mate's eyes, his face gloomy and silent.

The saying “I’ll come back to pick you up when it’s safe” can fool no one.

As long as the White Oak leaves the port, the people left on the island will be abandoned forever - the strange situation here is obvious to all. In such a short period of time, four unknown creatures have sneaked into the team. What will be the result of staying here any longer?

"Don't be so quick to sacrifice yourself," Lawrence said softly. Suddenly, he recalled something and his eyes became different. "Humans have only two eyes..."

His eyes rested on a sailor.

Next came the second, third, and fourth person.

One of the sailors pointed at himself in surprise, blinked, and then blinked his third and fourth eyes: "Don't I have two eyes?"

Lawrence said nothing, but silently raised the revolver in his hand.

The second person to raise his gun was the first mate Gus, and then the other sailors woke up as if from a dream.

Everyone seemed to have suddenly stepped through a curtain. After the cognitive interference shrouding their hearts was shaken, they looked in astonishment and fear at the half-human figures standing in the team, each raising the long and short guns in their hands.

The four "sailors" who looked neither human nor human were surrounded by the crowd. They stood there in shock and confusion, and then the expressions on their faces changed from clear to confused.

It was as if the temporarily simulated personality was shocked and suddenly collapsed. These "fakes" that looked neither human nor human staggered and looked up at their "captain" one by one.

Lawrence could only sigh: "You are not members of the ship."

The next second, as he stared in amazement, he suddenly saw a cluster of dark green flames burst out of thin air—

The ray of fire was just a few sparks at first, jumping and appearing among the twelve normal sailors, like sparks in the middle of an electrode device, and in just a moment, those sparks suddenly expanded and grew into large sheets of flames. The dark green spiritual fire burned fiercely among the crowd, and pounced on the four confused "fakes" like a predator that smelled its prey.

Flames exploded and crackled. The four counterfeits struggled violently in the flames for a few times, but before they could even make a sound, they turned into pools of burnt black dust - vaguely similar to the black mud seen on the port ramp before, but drier and more crushed.

The sailors were terrified. The moment the spirit fire ignited, they, as members of the White Oak, recalled the terrifying scenes that had happened in the past - the terrifying moment when they encountered the Lost Homeland on the vast ocean, and the shocking scene of the molten city in Plande... They were too familiar with this fire.

Why does this flame appear here?

Could it be that "Captain Duncan" is nearby?

However, just as this horrifying speculation exploded in everyone's heart and all the sailors were in panic, the flames suddenly dissipated - just as quickly as they came, as the four counterfeits turned into ashes, the dark green spirit flames also disappeared completely.

All that was left were a group of panicked sailors, a stunned first mate, and an old captain who felt he really should retire early.

"What...what was that just now?" First mate Gus turned his head with difficulty and swallowed his saliva. "Captain, that fire, that fire seemed to be..."

"It's the power of the Lost Homeland... The Lost Homeland..." Lawrence swallowed and suddenly looked up at the seaside, as if trying to find the trace of the ghost ship, but he only saw the cannon fire still roaring in the direction of the White Oak, and the sailors who were shaking lanterns on the edge of the deck had disappeared - perhaps everyone had already joined the battle.

The sailors on the White Oak were fighting hard to buy time for the captain and his crew to board the ship.

The Lost Homeland was not here, but Captain Duncan's flame appeared in front of everyone.

“Don’t be nervous,” Lawrence said quickly, calming the sailors. “We’ve already encountered the Lost Homeland once, and the city-state of Plande was even saved by that ship—it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Haven’t you heard the rumor? It is said that Captain Duncan Abnomer has regained his humanity…”

The first mate subconsciously made a gesture of praying to the goddess of storms, and then asked: "Captain, then...shall we return to the ship now?"

"…Go back, quickly! Before more weird things sneak in!"