Fantasy Game: Infinite City

Chapter 626 Returning to the Old Place (2)

Han Zu's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately focused his mind to carefully observe the black dot. The dot was very small, almost indistinguishable against the black sea and dark red sky. He slowly circulated his energy into his eyes, and his vision cleared again, the outline of the black dot gradually becoming clear. It was a ship, a strangely shaped ship, neither the warships he had seen on the beach before, nor the wreckage of fishing boats he had seen on the beach, but a medieval cargo ship.

The boat was of medium size, about fifty meters long, with a hull made of heavy oak, covered by a thin layer of metal armor engraved with simple patterns. A dozen or so oars were neatly arranged on each side of the hull, but no one appeared to be rowing. A tattered canvas hung from the mast; its color had faded, and a blurry pattern was drawn on it, too distant to discern its details. At the bow was a small superstructure, its windows devoid of light.

Han Zu's gaze swept carefully across the ship, trying to locate the people on board. He found it unusually quiet, devoid of any movement. He saw no crew members on deck and heard no sound. The oars were not moving, the sails were not unfurled, yet the ship was slowly and steadily moving towards the shore. This puzzled him greatly; without power, how could the ship move on its own?

He focused his mind again, channeling his energy into his eyes, trying to see every detail on the ship. This time, his gaze settled on the stern. At the stern was a small wheelhouse, and inside stood a tall figure, poised before the helm, hands gripping the helm, seemingly controlling the ship's direction. Due to the distance, he couldn't make out the figure's features, only a blurry outline, wearing a large cloak, the color of which resembled the ship's dark brown.

Han Zu was filled with curiosity. He carefully observed the ship, from bow to stern, from deck to superstructure, leaving no corner unchecked. But apart from the figure standing in the wheelhouse controlling the helm, he saw no one else on board. The decks were empty, no crew members were busy, and there were no figures moving in the superstructure windows. The whole ship seemed eerily strange, like an unmanned ghost ship, with only one figure holding the helm.

He tried to use his energy perception to investigate the ship, but as his senses approached, they were blocked by an invisible barrier, unable to penetrate it or detect any energy fluctuations or signs of life on board. This made him even more curious: what exactly was the figure controlling the helm? Was it a living person, or some kind of eerie entity? Why was this medieval ship in this strange sea? What was its destination? Was it this coastline littered with wreckage?

The ship continued its slow journey towards the shore, drawing ever closer and revealing more details about the vessel. Han Zu could see the wood grain on the hull, the scratches on the oars, and the figure standing in the wheelhouse swaying slightly, seemingly adjusting the rudder. Yet, he still saw no one else; it was as if only that figure was controlling the entire ship.

"What exactly is this ship?" Han Zu was filled with doubt and curiosity. He knew that the appearance of this ship must be related to the secrets of this coastline, and perhaps the key to solving all the mysteries lay on this ship. He took a deep breath, ready to act at any moment, and decided to go down and investigate as soon as the ship approached the shore.

The wind at the top of the lighthouse grew increasingly fierce, and the dark red sky, like spilled blood, cast an eerie halo on the sea. Han Zu's gaze remained fixed on the slowly approaching cargo ship. As the distance closed, the patterns on the ship's armor finally became clear—they were not random decorations, but a series of twisted symbols, like some kind of ancient inscription, faintly gleaming with a very pale gray light in the dim light. He tried to mobilize his energy to analyze these symbols, but only felt a slight dizziness. The symbols seemed to possess a life of their own, constantly distorting on his retina, making it impossible to grasp their specific form.

The cargo ship maintained a steady speed, showing no sign of slowing down as it approached the shore, nor any indication of lowering its anchor chain. A sense of unease crept into Han Zu's heart. He quickly checked his energy reserves, confirming they were in good condition, before turning and descending the steep stone steps inside the lighthouse. A thin layer of dust covered the steps, each step producing a soft creak, exceptionally clear in the silent lighthouse. Reaching the bottom, he paused for a moment, listening intently to the outside sounds. Apart from the roar of waves crashing against the rocks, there was still no sound from the cargo ship.

Pushing open the rusty iron gate of the lighthouse, a salty sea breeze rushed in. Han Zu looked up and saw the cargo ship already anchored at the shore, with a distance of about 20 meters between the ship and the reef. Even for Han Zu, who could no longer fly, this distance was practically nonexistent; he could easily jump over even 20 meters. But to his surprise, the ship didn't lower a gangplank, as if confident that he could climb aboard on his own. Without hesitation, he broke free of the ground with his feet, leaping into the air like a cannonball, but landing steadily on the cargo ship's deck.

The moment his feet touched the deck, Han Zu sensed something unusual. The deck was made of thick oak, covered with a fine layer of seaweed, slippery to the touch yet remarkably sturdy. Even stranger, despite being at sea, the deck remained perfectly still, as stable as a stone path on land. Looking down, he noticed tiny seashells embedded in the deck's crevices. These shells were a deep black, unlike any he had seen on the beach before. He pried one off with his fingertip, sniffed it, and detected only a faint, decaying smell; nothing else.

Han Zu didn't rush to the stern's wheelhouse. Instead, he began a thorough search, proceeding from bow to stern and from deck to cabins. The bow's superstructure wasn't very tall, about three meters high. Its walls were constructed of oak and metal armor, covered in scratches and dents, clearly indicating it had weathered many storms. The superstructure door was made of heavy iron plates, without keyholes, only a circular door knocker. Han Zu tried pushing the door, but it wouldn't budge, as if it were an integral part of the ship. He then tentatively bombarded the door with energy; the energy was absorbed by an invisible barrier on the surface of the door the moment it touched it, causing no damage.

After abandoning his attempt to enter the bow and superstructure, Han Zu turned his gaze to the oars on either side of the deck. Each oar was as thick as an adult's arm and about five meters long, its blades covered with scratches of varying depths, some edges curled with sawdust. He reached out and grasped an oar, finding it icy cold to the touch and unusually heavy; with his strength, he could barely lift it half an inch. What puzzled him even more was that there were no ropes or mechanical devices connecting the oars to the hull; they seemed simply inserted into holes in the hull. He tried to turn the oars, but found they wouldn't budge, as if they were cast into the hull.

In the center of the deck lay several old wooden crates, their surfaces blackened and some even cracked, revealing their filling—a grayish-white hay, dry and brittle, crumbling at the slightest touch. Han Zu carefully opened a relatively intact crate, finding it empty except for the hay. He opened several more crates, with the same result: either completely empty or containing only unidentifiable fragments. While examining the crates, he noticed symbols on their sides similar to those on the ship's armor, but these symbols were much fainter, most worn and illegible.

Continuing along the deck, Han Zu arrived at the entrance to the cabin. The entrance, located on the right side of the deck, was a square opening about one meter wide and two meters high. There were no railings around the opening, only a raised pattern carved around the edge. Below the opening was a steep flight of steps leading into the cabin. The steps were covered in a thick layer of dust, devoid of any footprints or other traces, clearly indicating that no one had used them for a long time.

The cabin was exceptionally spacious, with a height of approximately four meters, occupying almost two-thirds of the ship's surface. The walls and floor were also made of oak, covered with a thin layer of moisture, making them damp and cold to the touch. The cabin contained many neatly arranged wooden racks, which should have held cargo, but were now empty, save for some ropes used to secure the goods. These ropes were so rotten that they snapped into pieces at the slightest touch.

Han Zu meticulously searched the cabin, leaving no corner unchecked. In a corner, he found a broken pottery jar. The jar was decorated with simple patterns, seemingly depicting marine creatures, but due to its severe damage, the details were illegible. He picked up fragments of the jar and found them unusually hard, more durable than any pottery he had ever seen before. Aside from these, there were no other valuables in the cabin—no logbook, no crew members' personal belongings, and not even anything that could identify the ship.

After emerging from the cabin, Han Zu arrived at the foot of the mast. The mast was approximately twenty meters high, constructed from a single massive log, its surface covered in spiraling patterns inlaid with tiny metallic particles that gleamed faintly in the dim light. The tattered canvas hanging from the mast had lost its original color, now a dull grayish-brown. The pattern on the canvas remained indistinct, only vaguely discernible as a circular design with what appeared to be some kind of symbol in the center. He tried to pull the canvas's ropes, but they seemed frozen solid, impossible to move. He used his energy to sever the ropes, and the canvas slowly fell, landing on the deck with a muffled "thud." The back of the canvas also contained no valuable information, except for a line of extremely small characters embroidered along the edge. The script was ancient and strange; he couldn't recognize a single character.

At this moment, the figure in the stern wheelhouse remained motionless, still gripping the helm. Han Zu's gaze fell upon that figure, his doubts deepening. He had already searched the deck, the bow, and the cabins, finding no trace of any crew members, nor any clues to explain the ship's strangeness. The ship was like an empty shell; apart from the figure manipulating the helm, there were no other living beings or any valuable items.

He walked to the foot of the wheelhouse and looked up. The wheelhouse was about four meters high, its walls also made of oak and metal armor. The windows were made of small pieces of glass, cracked and fragmented, through which one could vaguely see inside. The tall figure stood below the window, his back to him, his hands gripping the helm tightly, the hem of his cloak trailing to the ground, blending seamlessly with the ship's color. Han Zu tried to use his energy perception to probe the interior of the wheelhouse, but was still blocked by that invisible barrier, unable to sense any energy fluctuations or signs of life.

He walked around the wheelhouse and found that the door was located on the side. The door was also made of iron plates, and it had no keyhole, only a ring-shaped door knocker similar to the one on the bow deck door. He reached out and pushed the door, but the door remained unmoved. He then tried to bombard the door with energy, but the result was the same as before; the energy was absorbed by the barrier on the surface of the door, causing no damage.

Han Zu frowned, a sense of impatience rising within him. He had been searching the deck for nearly an hour without finding any useful information. The ship's strangeness had not only remained unexplained but had become even more mysterious. What exactly was that figure standing in the wheelhouse? Why was this ship moving on its own? What did the symbols on the hull armor and wooden crates represent? These questions swirled in his mind like a series of enigmas.

He turned his gaze back to the figure in the wheelhouse, deciding not to waste any more time and to go directly to that person to get to the bottom of things. He took a deep breath, adjusted his energy level, and prepared for any unexpected situations. Just as he lifted his foot, preparing to walk towards the wheelhouse door, a slight tremor suddenly came from the deck beneath his feet.

Han Zu was startled and immediately stopped, looking down at the deck. He noticed the dust on the deck was beginning to stir slightly, and the ship was tilting very subtly. He looked up at the shore and saw the cargo ship slowly moving away from the bank, the distance between the ship and the reefs increasing. He then looked at the stern's wheelhouse; the tall figure remained in the same position, gripping the helm, seemingly unchanged. Yet this seemingly unchanging figure was maneuvering this strange cargo ship, silently sailing away from the shore and towards the black sea beneath the dark red sky.