Morris's speculation points to a dark future in which everything is eternally silent - the chill it brings is far greater than any horrifying and bizarre prophecy of destruction, or the doomsday disasters in the ravings of madmen.

It is a dark and cold silence. The last flame will gradually go out in the embers of civilization. The afterglow of civilization will gradually suffocate in one fatal contraction after another, just like a gradually sinking ship. Desperate people keep throwing weights from the ship in the hope of delaying the fate of destruction, but until the end, every plank on the ship will inevitably fall into the endless dark abyss.

What is even more difficult to accept is that, based on the existing intelligence, this future is extremely likely - in fact, it is the best of all possibilities.

Because "civilization" at least has a chance to survive for a while after the fourth and fifth long nights, and at least it can enjoy the last bit of false peace in that gradually shrinking and collapsing shelter.

In a worse case scenario, there may not be so many subsequent long nights - the third long night is already an unrepeatable "miracle" and "luck", and the coming dusk will be the day when all things truly end.

...Perhaps, this is actually a good result?

Duncan finally shook his head as a turbulent stream of thoughts surged through his mind, putting these messy thoughts aside for the time being: "We are in a state of pessimism, Morris."

"Indeed, it is a bit premature to make these speculations when we are still uncertain about when and in what form the Fourth Long Night will come." Morris rubbed his brows and finally broke free from his pessimistic mood. "My mentor is organizing a 'gathering' across the four major churches. You will be invited to this gathering. At least by then, we should be able to exchange more useful information - the popes of the four gods also need the truths we have mastered."

Duncan nodded slightly. He was not surprised by the news because this was exactly one of the "agreements" he had reached with the Pope of Truth, Rune.

If he had to say... he was a little curious about how the old elf persuaded the other three popes to accept this "proposal" - the Deep Sea Pope Helena was easy to deal with, as he had dealt with her in Plande, and there was also the connection established by Vanna, the "secret envoy". The female pope was more or less a neutral and friendly leader of the camp, but the other two...

The leader of the Firebringers, Frame, might be interested in the "Chronicle" in Vanna's hand. What about Banster from the Church of Death?

The expression on his face changed subtly several times, and Duncan raised his hand and knocked on a small mirror on the coffee table: "Agatha."

Agatha's figure appeared in the mirror almost immediately: "I'm here."

"…Are you familiar with Banster?"

"As far as I can remember, I once received instruction from His Holiness the Pope and training on the Cemetery Ark," Agatha thought for a moment and spoke uncertainly, "but I'm far from familiar with it. There are many saints on the Infinite Sea, and I'm not as 'special' as Miss Vanna."

Duncan stroked his chin, thinking: "...Then you probably don't know whether Banster really minds the ship..."

"I do mind."

Duncan: “…”

He didn't even have time to finish his words!

"I mind it very much," Agatha repeated. Then, as if she was afraid that Duncan would not believe her, she explained seriously, "Even a relatively unknown saint like me would hear him sigh about that beautiful frigate from time to time."

Duncan continued: "..."

"Of course, His Holiness the Pope would sometimes be more generous," Agatha said as she recalled, "He would usually start by saying, 'Actually, I don't really care.' Then he would sigh and end with, 'It's a pity, I designed it myself... Of course, I don't really care.'"

Duncan's expression almost couldn't hold back: "...Isn't this a sign of caring a lot?!"

"Ahem," Morris suddenly coughed twice, interrupting the increasingly strange conversation between Duncan and Agatha. "I think that compared to the famous Fleeting frigate, the Thirteen Islands of Veselan will be a more sensitive issue during the gathering."

"In fact... the Thirteen Islands of Veselan might not be that sensitive," Agatha shook her head. "Although that was a bigger loss, some priests in the Church of Death tend to regard it as a 'subspace disaster'. They believe that the disaster was caused by the dimensional collapse phenomenon rather than the Lost Homeland. The latter just fell into the subspace together with the Thirteen Islands. This is equivalent to two people being caught in a fire together. We cannot assume that the person who crawled out of the fire is the arsonist.

"This is not a claim that comes out of thin air - there is a lot of academic research on the 'border collapse phenomenon' that supports this explanation.

"Of course, this statement is quite controversial within the church. For obvious reasons, the bishops do not like this interpretation of 'justifying the Lost Homeland'. But now that His Holiness the Pope has accepted the invitation to the gathering, I believe he is ready to use this explanation to characterize what happened that year... or at least to stabilize the bishops' attitudes.

"In comparison, the 'Evanescent Incident' was truly an indisputable... act of attack. The Lost Homeland took the ship away from the fleet in broad daylight."

Morris suddenly realized: "So that's it..."

Duncan suddenly realized, "Wait a minute, is that ship really called the Fleeting? Isn't that the nickname it got after that incident?"

Agatha and Maurice both nodded silently.

Duncan had a weird expression on his face: "...Why did you come up with such an unlucky name?"

"...The naming tradition of the Church of Death for warships is actually also our tradition for naming many things, such as the main gunboat 'Wrongful Death' and the long-barreled artillery 'Sudden Death'," Agatha said calmly, "We regard death and disappearance as a necessary part of the operation of the world, and words related to them are not taboos for us - and strictly speaking, the name 'Lost Homeland' is not very 'auspicious', right?"

Duncan thought about it and felt that the gatekeeper was right.

At this moment, Alice suddenly raised her head and interrupted the conversation between Duncan and Agatha: "Captain, I'm done!"

Agatha in the mirror was startled by the sudden noise, while Duncan couldn't help but look at the doll with a strange expression -

Alice had been concentrating on painting since just now, as if the conversation and discussion happening around her were completely from another world. Now that she had completed her "creation", she was ready to show her work to the captain without any worries or thoughts.

Duncan suddenly even felt a little envious of the puppet's good attitude.

Alice happily pushed the painting in front of Duncan.

It was a...poor painting.

Not only can you tell at a glance that the painter is unfamiliar with the painting, you can even tell that the painter is not very proficient in using the brush - there is no question of technique at all, let alone beauty and composition.

There was a large, abstract ship drawn on it, with dark pencil marks outlining the outlines of the sails and water ripples. Some small people with their arms outstretched were standing on the ship. The strokes looked messy, but one could barely make out the features of the people on the Lost Homeland.

Vanna is very tall, Maurice is smoking a pipe, Shirley is with Agou, Nina has a flame on her head, Agatha is a dark shadow, Ai is on the mast, and Goat Head is looking out of the window of the captain's room...

Duncan, standing at the highest point wearing a captain's hat, was obviously painted more carefully, but still crooked.

Except for Duncan, every "person" on the ship had some lines extending from their bodies, floating in the air in crooked ways.

Morris leaned over curiously to take a look, his expression somewhat subtle: "Well... as my first 'painting' it's actually... not too bad, but generally speaking, you can't see lines on a person... at least you don't have to show them in the painting..."

The old man's comment was very tactful, but Alice obviously had her own thoughts: "But it really exists."

Morris seemed a little amused and looked up at Duncan, who started laughing.

"Yes," Duncan said with a smile. His eyes fell on Alice's first "masterpiece". Gradually, a thoughtful expression appeared in his eyes. "...This is the world in her eyes."

"Isn't it?" Alice said proudly. "I didn't draw it wrong!"

"But..." Duncan found another problem, "Why aren't you listed here?"

Alice was stunned for a moment, then looked down at the Lost Hometown she was drawing, and replied, "Because I'm drawing."

It took Duncan a moment to react before he understood the puppet's logic.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but also felt it was somewhat interesting.

"People who paint can also put themselves on the picture - I'll help you add it."

As he spoke, he picked up the pencil that Alice had placed aside, and quickly drew a simple image of Alice on the Lost Homeland, next to himself.

Alice watched with wide eyes and exclaimed happily: "Wow! Captain, you draw much better than me!"

Duncan just smiled when he heard that, put down his pencil casually, and then carefully rolled up the picture and put it in Alice's hand.

"Keep it. This is your first 'work'."

Alice looked particularly happy: "Yeah!"

Duncan then turned his head and looked in the direction of an empty room in the living room: "Is everything done?"

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, Lucrecia's figure suddenly appeared in the air accompanied by a flurry of colorful papers.

"Don't worry, Dad. It's all taken care of."