初次尝了销魂少妇

Chapter 671: News of the Gathering

Morris even suggested that the situation could worsen: the third catastrophic event might have already stretched civilization to its breaking point, rendering survival beyond the next disaster a mere fantasy.

Reflecting on these grim notions, Duncan eventually dismissed them as overly pessimistic. “We’re being too pessimistic, Morris.”

Morris admitted it was premature to speculate about the fourth catastrophic event without more data. He then mentioned a meeting his mentor had arranged with leaders from the four major churches, inviting Duncan to attend. He hoped the meeting would offer deeper insights, as the church leaders were also in search of the truths they held.

Duncan, already aware of the meeting through an agreement with the Truth Pope, Lune, wasn’t surprised. However, he was intrigued by how the elderly elf had managed to get the other three popes to attend a meeting led by Storm Pope Helena. Through his connections in Pland and a proposal from Vanna, Duncan had built a rapport with Helena, who seemed neutral and approachable. Yet, he was unsure about the positions of the other two popes, Frem of the Flame Bearers and Banster of the Death Church.

Duncan thought about Banster as he tapped a small mirror on his coffee table, summoning the image of Agatha. “Agatha,” he said seriously.

Agatha’s figure appeared in the mirror. “I’m here,” she replied.

“Are you familiar with Banster?” Duncan asked, highlighting the importance of his question.

“Based on my previous experiences under the Pope’s guidance and training in the Death Ark, I wouldn’t say I’m particularly close to him. There are many saints in the Boundless Sea, and I’m not as ‘exceptional’ as Miss Vanna,” Agatha responded, uncertainly.

Duncan thought for a moment, then asked, “Then do you know how much Banster cares about that escort fle…”

“He cares about it a lot,” Agatha interrupted abruptly.

Duncan was surprised, having not completed his question!

“He cares about it a lot,” Agatha repeated earnestly as if clarifying for Duncan. “Even someone like me, not very prominent in the Death Church, has heard him mourn the loss of that magnificent escort fleet we once had.”

Before Duncan could respond, Agatha continued, “The Death Pope often downplays his concerns, starting with ‘actually, I don’t care that much,’ followed by a deep sigh, and ending with ‘though it was my personal design for those ships… but of course, I don’t really care.’”

Duncan almost laughed: “…Isn’t that exactly showing he cares a lot?!”

At that moment, Morris interrupted with a cough, redirecting the conversation. “I think the Thirteen Islands of Witherlands might be a more pressing topic at the gathering than the Fleeting Moment Incident with their fleet.”

Agatha disagreed, “Actually, the Thirteen Islands of Witherlands might not be as contentious as you think.” She shook her head, “Despite being a major loss, a faction within the Death Church views it more as a ‘subspace disaster’—a result of a border collapse, not the actions of the Vanished. It’s like assuming someone who escapes a fire must be the arsonist.”

“This isn’t just a speculative idea; it’s backed by substantial academic research,” Agatha explained. “Of course, this interpretation causes disputes within the church. The bishops are not fond of this ‘defense’ of the Vanished, but the Death Pope’s willingness to attend the meeting suggests he might be ready to accept this explanation to clarify past events, or at least to soften the bishops’ stance.”

“In contrast, the Fleeting Moment Incident was a clear… attack by the Vanished. They boldly took some of our ships right in front of the entire fleet, including the flagship Fleeting Moment.”

Morris realized something: “Ah, I understand now…”

Curious, Duncan asked, “Wait, is the ship actually named ‘Fleeting Moment’? I thought that was just a nickname for the incident.”

Agatha and Morris silently nodded in confirmation.

Duncan looked puzzled: “…Why choose such a strange and ominous name?”

Calmly, Agatha responded, “It’s a tradition in the Death Church to name warships and many other things with such terms. ‘Sudden Demise’ for the main battle cruiser, ‘Abrupt Long Goodbye’ for a long barrel cannon… We view death and passing as natural parts of the life cycle, so these terms aren’t taboo for us. And strictly speaking, ‘the Vanished’ isn’t exactly a ‘fortunate’ name either, is it?”

Duncan considered this and eventually agreed with the Gatekeeper’s perspective.

During their conversation, Alice suddenly exclaimed, catching everyone off guard, “Captain, look! I’ve completed my drawing!” She beamed with pride.

Taken aback by this interruption, Agatha, reflected in the mirror, and Duncan turned to see Alice, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement at the doll’s attempt at art.

It was evident that Alice was a beginner. She struggled with even holding the pencil correctly. Her drawing, lacking technique, and artistic flair, attempted to depict a large, somewhat abstract ship. She used thick, black pencil lines for the sails and the waves, and sketched several small figures on the ship with their arms extended. The rough lines just managed to capture some distinctive features of the people aboard the Vanished.

In her drawing, Vanna appears tall, Morris is depicted with a pipe, Shirley and Dog are close together, Nina is shown with flames above her head, and Agatha is merely a dark shadow. Ai was at the top of the ship’s mast, and interestingly, Goathead peeked from the captain’s room window.

Duncan himself was drawn wearing a captain’s hat, standing at the highest point of the ship. Alice had paid more attention to his figure, but it was still rendered with a charming awkwardness.

Interestingly, apart from Duncan, each figure had lines extending from them, floating mysteriously in the air.

Both curious and amused, Morris leaned in to inspect the drawing more closely. “Well… for a first attempt, it’s… not too shabby. But you know, people don’t usually have lines coming out of them in drawings…” he commented, trying to be gentle.

Despite Morris’s diplomatic critique, Alice stood by her work. “But there really are lines,” she insisted, confident in her depiction.

Morris appeared bemused and turned to Duncan, who chuckled at the entire situation.

“Yes, indeed there are,” Duncan responded with a warm, appreciative smile, his gaze lingering affectionately on Alice’s first artistic attempt. As he studied the drawing more closely, his expression shifted to one of deep reflection. “This is how she perceives the world,” he mused, intrigued by her unique perspective.

Upon hearing this, Alice’s face lit up with pride, and she quickly responded, “Right? I knew I got it right!”

However, Duncan’s attention was drawn to another aspect of the drawing. “But…” he began, his curiosity piqued, “why didn’t you include yourself in the drawing?”

Alice paused, her gaze sweeping over her representation of the Vanished’s crew. With a matter-of-fact tone, she replied, “Because I was the one doing the drawing.”

Duncan paused, reflecting on the doll’s simple logic. The purity of her perspective brought a genuine chuckle to him; he found both humor and a profound insight in her response.

“The artist can also be a part of their artwork,” he explained gently. “Let me show you how to include yourself.”

Duncan then took the pencil Alice had used and, with a few skillful strokes, added a simple yet delightful representation of Alice next to his own figure in the drawing.

Alice’s eyes widened with astonishment and delight. “Wow! Captain, you’re so much better at drawing than I am!” she exclaimed, clearly impressed.

Duncan gave a humble smile and set the pencil down. He carefully rolled up the drawing, preserving Alice’s first piece of art, and handed it back to her. “Take good care of this; it’s your very first ‘creation’,” he advised warmly.

Alice beamed with happiness, exclaiming, “Yay!” Her joy was infectious.

Then, shifting his attention, Duncan looked towards an empty space in the living room. “Is everything taken care of?” he asked, speaking seemingly to the void.

No sooner had he posed the question than Lucretia appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Her arrival was marked by a swirl of colorful paper scraps. “Don’t worry, Papa, everything’s been handled,” she assured him confidently, indicating that all was under control.