From the Ship of Fools to Earl of Wugang

Chapter 104 Divine Oracle

An ancient castle on the west shore of the Heartbreak Sea.

The printer spit out page after page of lists, and old Gerard kept pressing the corners of the papers down with his webbed fingers to prevent them from being blown away by the sea breeze blowing in through the window.

"The money brought back from the capital has been mostly taken care of. Old debts owed to suppliers, salaries, and materials that Deep Sea Hymn is missing..."

Jacob stood at the other end of the long table, looking through the replies sent from various places.

Sending a divine messenger to rob the principality's bank was not in vain; the deficit on paper was covered up by bundles of banknotes.

"What about the divine messenger?"

"King Dushi caught up with them in the Celestial Realm." Old Gerard pushed a separately bound report over. "One was slain by the Golden Lion Crown, and the other has fled into the depths of the Spirit Realm. The Ritualists' attempts to contact them have only yielded a biting clump of seaweed, and they're furious."

The previous attack resulted in Jacob losing a large number of peripheral members and several priests, and even many of the core personnel in charge of the Silver Bell Project were killed.

The network within the Moral Alliance was severely damaged, and the deaths and disappearances of the two divine messengers were enough to trigger months of accountability within the Order.

However, Old Gerard was clearly more concerned with something else.

"I was originally supposed to be guided by a divine messenger to complete the final salt dissolution, but now it's been postponed again." The fishman's thick lips drooped downwards.

"I have served God the Father and the order for nearly fifty years, and now that I am retiring—at this rate, when will I be able to go to the deep water palace...?"

Jacob had heard about this matter dozens of times over this period of time, and he remained expressionless and silent.

Just then, there was a knock on the basement door, and a member in black robes quickly entered and placed several sheets of paper on the table.

"My lord, several contact points in the Grand Duchy of Macallan have lost response. The vehicle transfer station there, as well as the safe houses on the outskirts of the capital, have not reported back on time."

The man swallowed hard and continued, "And, something also happened at the bar Chuck runs..."

Jacob's face darkened as he took the fax.

The list of missing persons filled an entire page, with Chuck being the most important and troublesome—he was in charge of logistical coordination within several Dürr-West member states in the northwest.

Those who were able to eliminate these strongholds in a short period of time must have had a sufficiently accurate list.

He looked at Old Gerard: "The Father God's ritual cannot be delayed. Go and ensure that Chuck, who has the intelligence, is properly isolated."

"It seems that the most likely weakness is still the contingency plan left by Lockman." Old Gerard, who had been watching this side, rolled his large, silver-gray dead fish eyes. "When you hold the ceremony later, you should ask Father God about it."

He gathered the receipts on the table again and added, "And those within the cult who have been influenced by Dionysus, the Ritualists have explicitly demanded that they be controlled. If we still want to try to cultivate talent using those plays, we'll probably have to withstand even more pressure."

After Old Gerard left with the documents, Jacob followed a damp stone staircase into a recessed, pool-like chamber in the lower level of the castle.

Blackened water lines remained along the edge of the pool, a silver cloth was laid on the central stone platform, and a whale fat iron lamp was placed at each of the four corners.

Despite the upright lamplight, the sound of water remained constant in the room, as if an underground river was slowly flowing beneath the floor.

Jacob unbuttoned his shirt and placed his hand below his left rib.

The skin then cracked open with a moist fissure, and a few tiny tentacles emerged from within, carrying out a black wooden box.

He took a small piece of blood-soaked silver from the box.

The original name on the paper had become blurred, and the dark red bloodstains remained moist along the silver lines. This was his most valuable trophy from that operation.

In the center of the stone platform sat a silver bowl filled with black liquid. Jacob broke off the glass tube and poured the few drops of the crown prince's blood he had saved into it.

The blood droplets slid down the water's surface toward the bowl's wall, and the next moment, the black water defied gravity and climbed upwards, forming a slowly rising waterline on the inside of the container.

Jacob placed the blood-soaked silver pages into the bowl, pressed his hands against the edge of the altar, and began to chant.

"We beseech you, *Father God of Abyss, Son of Luoming City, High Priest of the Endless Abyss*."

"You are crowned in the deep water, hear the last bell in the lungs of the drowning, and receive the pulse of the ocean currents."

"Follow the blood, come; follow the name, see; follow the tide, lower your eyelids. Salt bestows upon the flesh, deep water answers..."

He began to chant in an unknown, alien language that gradually rose in pitch, and the wick of the whale fat lamp made a soft sound.

The black water in the bowl welled up and flowed into the pool below the stage.

Tiny water droplets began to seep from the cracks in the wall, the stone surface, and Jacob's clothes, rolling down towards the altar.

Every breath in the room felt unusually tiring and long, with a dreamlike, whale-like sound mixed in between the inhalation and exhalation.

As Jacob pounded his lungs, the black water in the silver bowl sprang up sharp spikes, pulsating with a silent rhythm, possessing a mechanical beauty of a magnetofluid changing with an invisible magnetic field.

A huge shadow gradually appeared above the altar, shaped like a closed eyelid with rows of slowly swaying short whiskers along its edges.

Jacob lowered his head: "Ancient and sublime Father, please reveal to your believers where Edmund Lockman is now."

Three tremors appeared on the surface of the black water in succession; this may be the way the alien god spoke.

*Not dead*

*Prichni*

*seaside*

The answer was interrupted there, and the water in the bowl suddenly rose, with the dark red thread drawn from the crown prince's blood reaching the center of the shadow.

A heavier will pressed down on Jacob's hearing.

*The Tide Ceases*

*Waiting for the next peak of the spiritual tide*

*Sacrifice to the Crown Prince*

*The gods have appeared in the world*

Jacob's eardrums bled; he had understood the oracle.

We cannot continue to create large-scale disturbances. Once the spiritual tide reaches its peak again, the Father God can send a portion of his power into reality by sacrificing the crown prince.

The giant eyeface slowly sank into the altar, and the black water disappeared from the pool at a visible speed.

Suddenly, black water gushed from Jacob's seven orifices, and he quickly caught it in a bowl.

A moment later, he carried the bowl of black water out of the secret room and into the hall, where he handed it to a yellow-robed priest who was already waiting there.

After watching the man leave, Jacob summoned his deputy and asked him to appoint a second-order Tide-Praying Deacon and two first-order Tide-Transforming Ones.

Even less black liquid flowed from his seven orifices again, which he collected with a glass tube.

Jacob could not openly defy the oracle, but he also could not tolerate the traitor who had absconded with the church's wealth continuing to live.

A second-tier member's "spontaneous action" based on "accidentally finding a clue" seems quite appropriate.

Even if he suffers a loss, although it is somewhat painful for his current power, it is not enough to attract the attention of other factions.

"This essence, which relies on the power of the Father God, is enough to replace the spirit and the flesh, and can resonate with the handwriting left by that traitor."

Jacob handed the glass tube to his deputy: "Take the Soul-Seeking Conch and a Human-Faced Fish. Have the technicians check the hotel and port registers, telephone records, and recent unfamiliar funds along the Prishchny coast; they should be able to find it."

After giving his instructions, the deputy asked, "What happens after we find the target?"

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Jacob answered decisively, "It would be best to bring him back—whatever he is now, this time I want his soul shattered."

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