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Nemo found himself studying the figure of Captain Duncan who was now standing before him. Duncan, a large and intimidating man, had a presence that intermittently emitted a weighty intensity, which was somewhat astonishing to Nemo.

In truth, Nemo was finding the reality a bit hard to accept. He had indeed heard about the reemergence of the mythic figure “Captain Duncan” from subspace, the fact that the Sea Mist had recently undertaken a specific expedition for this very purpose was a testament to that. However, encountering Captain Duncan in person was a completely different experience – a revelation that was so awe-striking that if he shared it, his deceased grandfather would rise from his grave and demand his silence, given the unbelievable nature of the occurrence—it had truly come to pass.

However, after a brief period of interaction, Nemo discovered that this “Captain Duncan” was not as fearsome as the tales had led him to believe. Duncan was rational, approachable, and courteous—with a handful of “aides” accompanying him who didn’t give off an impression of being manipulated by some sinister sorcery. In fact, Duncan had voluntarily extended his assistance.

This turn of events left Nemo slightly dumbfounded for a moment, but he soon composed himself and agreed. Rather than pondering over the disposition of his superior’s father, the ongoing absence of Crow, his crew member, was a matter of immediate concern.

“I’ll join as well,” piped up the voice of Old Ghost. The elderly man moved towards a nearby shelf, sifted through a haphazard collection of objects, and retrieved a safety lamp that he could wear on his torso along with a crowbar. He then found a rope on another shelf and slung it over his shoulder. Approaching the door, he stated, “No one is more familiar with the passages down here than me. If the youngster has indeed lost his way at an intersection, you’ll require the sagacity of an old-timer.”

Evidently, the old man, known for his alternating states of confusion and lucidity, seemed to be more alert at that moment.

Duncan remained silent, only indicating that Nemo should guide their way. The group departed the caretaker’s cabin, crossed through the large “intersection” they had previously encountered and began to trace a sewer path heading north, hoping to locate Nemo’s missing subordinate.

As they ventured deeper into the “Second Waterway” past the crossing, Duncan began to appreciate the monumental scale of the construction and the prosperity that the city-state must have enjoyed under the Frost Queen’s reign five decades ago.

The walls of the structure were incredibly robust, the passageways seemed to touch the sky, and the alleged “sewers” bore more resemblance to a spectacular subterranean palace. The complex interconnections within the design suggested that it wasn’t solely intended for drainage purposes. It appeared that military strategies, refuge provisions, and even considerations for underground manufacturing facilities might have influenced its construction. Looking up at the expansive corridors, one could see the meshwork of pipelines. Despite many being considerably rusted, broken, or fallen due to years of neglect, they still offered a glimpse into the immense grandeur of the original structure.

Occasionally, the corridor walls displayed openings to massive pipes and rusty iron grates, while the drains embedded in the ground had long since dried out. Due to its brief period of operation and subsequent years of desertion, the underground waterway emitted only a mildewy scent that was far from intolerable.

Strolling through such an astounding subterranean complex, even the well-informed Morris couldn’t help but express his awe. However, amidst his admiration, the elderly scholar found himself grappling with certain perplexities.

“Even if this was constructed for the city-state’s expansion a century down the line, isn’t the size of this underground facility somewhat excessive?” he expressed out loud. “The sewage system in Pland is deemed advanced, yet this place dwarfs it. Moreover, this was erected fifty years ago. Did the Frost Queen genuinely require such a colossal ‘Second Waterway’ back then?”

“The queen had her reasoning, and her decisions have always proven to be sound,” retorted Old Ghost, who was leading the way, addressing Morris’s doubts, “Her Majesty was innately psychic, capable of perceiving elements that elude ordinary individuals, including the city-state’s future. She harnessed this discernment to enhance the prosperity of her domain, and we’re confident that these proposed amenities will prove to be beneficial in due course.”

At this point, Duncan’s brow furrowed in contemplation.

“A natural psychic?” he queried, glancing at the old man toting a rope and crowbar, “Are you implying that the Frost Queen could predict the future to some extent?”

“She professed that she couldn’t, but we all maintained the belief that she could—otherwise, how could one explain her supernatural judgments?” The elderly man swiveled his head, his countenance displaying unwavering faith, “Regardless, it’s indisputable that the queen possessed supernatural intuition, and the people of that era were aware of this fact.”

Duncan turned to Morris, who seemed to be immersed in his thoughts. He confided, “The historical records concerning the Frost Queen are quite sparse, as most of the information was either lost, intentionally concealed, or manipulated during the rebellion. However, based on what I’ve learned, there’s no mention of ‘the queen being a natural psychic’ or ‘the queen having prophetic abilities.’ The records only state that she was highly intelligent and exhibited versatile political acumen.”

Duncan absorbed the conversation and shot a sidelong glance at Alice, who was dutifully following close behind him.

Alice was not intellectually advanced at all and was absolutely uninformed about the machinations of politics—she hadn’t even learned to spell the word correctly.

Feeling the captain’s gaze, Alice promptly averted her eyes, her face lighting up in a gentle smile.

“…Records are often incomplete, especially when rebels are likely to have intentionally concealed numerous details. I’m inclined to believe that the Frost Queen possessed some exceptional abilities back in her time,” Duncan looked away, attempting to erase the image of Alice’s innocent smile from his mind as he casually continued, “But this gargantuan ‘Second Waterway’… What could her motive have been for constructing such an awe-inspiring entity in that era?”

Duncan’s query was met with silence. Just then, Vanna detected something unusual in the distance.

“There’s a body on the ground over there!” she alerted the group, pointing in the direction.

Upon following her lead, everyone could indeed spot a figure dressed in a blue coat lying sprawled on the ground.

The group rapidly approached, and Nemo flipped the lifeless body over to reveal a pallid face.

“…It’s Crow,” Nemo’s countenance darkened momentarily before he pounded the ground in frustration, “damn it!”

Vanna crouched down next to the lifeless youth, noticing something peculiar about the corpse. After a closer examination, she furrowed her brows, “He… drowned?”

“…Drowned?” Morris, who was standing nearby, was taken aback by her words. He then noticed the dampened coat and the unusual swelling and water lines on the skin. However, glancing around, he only saw the parched ground nearby. The only indication of water was under Crow’s body.

Vanna leaned in for a more meticulous examination before looking up, “He has the scent of seawater on him. He drowned in the sea.”

“But there’s no seawater here, and even the subterranean rivers in the vicinity contain freshwater,” Old Ghost, who had caught up from behind, looked down at the lifeless Crow. His creased face conveyed deep concern, “Poor boy, he must’ve been seized by the rebels, drowned, and then his body discarded here…”

“Whether it was the rebels or not remains uncertain, but the likelihood of the body being dumped is high,” Morris responded gravely, “This is clearly not the scene of the crime… Hm?”

He seemed to have discovered something out of the ordinary and reached into Crow’s coat pocket, retrieving a piece of paper that had been entirely soaked with water—a small corner of the paper was sticking out, which had caught his attention.

Everyone’s focus immediately shifted to the delicate object as Morris gingerly unfolded it.

There were words inscribed on it. Though they were blurred from the water damage, they hadn’t completely washed away.

Utilizing the added illumination from Old Ghost’s oil lamp, Duncan managed to make out the information inscribed on the paper, yet the content was bewildering. It was composed of several fragmented excerpts:

“…The forsaken rulers convened, one assembly after another, ultimately formulating an initial blueprint. The majority of the survivors amidst the ruins were offered sanctuary, with the promise of resurrection in the light and warmth…”

“…Yet, the rulers faced another division, as they noticed a tribe trapped in the shadows…”

“The outcast ones, their flesh would dissolve under the bright light, denying them the blessings of the resurgent world. The chieftain of this tribe attended the assembly of the forsaken rulers, pleading for equivalent protection. However, their demands posed risks to the other survivors amongst the ruins. The forsaken ruler found no common ground, thus leaving them to their fate.”

“They retreated into the shadows, sequestering themselves in the darkness, yet failing to find solace in death. They raised their voices in agony, longing for the protection of their homeland, yet it was out of their reach. Consequently, they delved deeper into the gloom. They held no affection for the darkness, but only in the absence of light could they evade the lethal poison of this world. They took residence in the darkness for an interminable length of time…”