Shrouded Seascape Chapter 537. Change

Chapter 537. Change

The hazy, violet mist swirled languidly in the air, obscuring the titanic figure that was larger than a mountain sitting within it. An overwhelming aura of oppression washed over everyone, sending a chill coursing through their veins and having them paralyzed in the spot in fear.

“Let’s go; get closer,” Charles instructed calmly, sending a shiver down everyone’s spine.

“Cap…Captain…we are going to get closer to that huge thing? It could crush us all in just one stomp!” Dipp stuttered from the driver’s seat.

A complicated expression appeared on Charles’ countenance as he gazed at the giant in the distance. He let out a soft sigh and replied, “At this point, it might actually be good news if He could really move.”

The car engine roared to life again. As they closed the distance with the titanic figure, the thick violet fog gradually dissipated, and the giant’s form was slowly revealed with increasing clarity.

His slender and imposing body was a towering mass of gray metal. His palms were enormous, spanning nearly half the size of His chest, and His arms were so long they draped down to the ground.

Charles knew the giant’s identity. He was the Light God who had molded His colossal form from steamships back in the Subterranean Sea. The giant was on His knees, and His body was slightly reclined. Judging from the pose, Charles deduced that the Light God was in extreme despair at that point in time.

The car pulled up alongside the Light God’s torso. Everyone in the car instinctively lowered the volume of their breathing, fearful that they might wake the behemoth figure.

Charles stepped out of the car and looked up at the massive figure before him. Even though he knew that the Light God was dead, the sheer size of the towering mass of metal left a resonating sense of awe in Charles’ heart.

The behemoth Divinity was massive. A single finger resembled a skyscraper towering over humanity. Standing from his vantage point, Charles could barely make out the lower half of His monumental form.

“Get the camera out and take some photos for record purposes. I’ll get to the top and have a look,” Charles commanded.

His arms swiftly morphed into membranous wings, black fur sprouted all over his body, and sharp fangs protruded from his mouth. Within moments, he had transformed into a fearsome, hideous bat monster.

With a powerful flap of his wings, Charles soared upward to the top of the Light god. Soon, he reached a higher vantage point to see the full extent of the Light God’s body.

Charles had anticipated that the head would be missing as he had seen it. However, he hadn’t expected the gaping hole in the Light God’s chest.

Aside from the large hole, the rest of the Light God’s body appeared undamaged. Charles recalled the scene where the Light God broke out of His seal and remembered that this hollow void was supposed to house the fleshy orb made from the Divine Light Order’s followers.

With a flick, Charles folded his wings and landed smoothly in the chest cavity of the Light God. He extended his sharp claws and scraped at the surface beneath his feet. The cut was as smooth as a polished mirror. An entity that could achieve such a flawless cut was definitely not mortal.

Was the downfall of the Light God triggered by the disappearance of the Divine Light Order followers?

The thought entered Charles’ mind briefly but was quickly dismissed.

The Light God’s form was a temporary construct pieced together from human corpses and steamships. Thus, the lack of a certain patchwork from the metal existence alone couldn’t have led to the death of the Light God. There had to be another reason behind the death of the Divinity.

Charles then turned around to study the empty expanse behind him. There was no cloak of darkness. Had the darkness been taken away by the entity that killed the Light God? What significance did the darkness of the Subterranean Sea have to the Light God? Why did the entity take the darkness away?

As Charles pondered over these questions, a bat fluttered up from below. It was the blind vampire, Audric.

“Captain, it’s safe up here, right? The others are worried,” Audric remarked.

Charles shook his head and answered, “There’s nothing up here.”

Peering downward, the surroundings were cloaked in a faint purple mist, and Charles didn’t pick up any signs of life. At this point, he was wishing for something to appear—anything. Even some bizarre creature would be preferable to this eerie stillness.

“Let’s go back down. There’s no valuable information here,” Charles commented before spreading his wings and gliding downward.

After promptly jotting down their current coordinates on the map, Charles resolved to modify the exploration strategy upon his return. He planned to have the explorers use this giant as the focal point of their explorations, searching outward to uncover any new findings.

The cloak of darkness on the Light God had vanished. Without any other leads, searching the vicinity of the Light God would be the fastest and most effective way.

The tire tracks of their vehicle looped around the Light God’s massive form and headed toward its rear. They could still cover some miles with the remaining whale oil in the engine. Returning now would be a waste of time; after all, the one thing that humanity was short on now was time.

The car continued its journey for another two days straight. The surroundings remained the same—an endless expanse of a barren desert. There was literally nothing, not even the insect that Charles had managed to encounter on his first visit to the surface. It was like the entire place was a desolate wasteland.

“Captain, this is the furthest we can go. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have enough whale oil for the return trip,” Dipp said with his hands on the wheel.

Squinting his eyes, Charles peered at the barren landscape outside as he gently ran his right hand over Lily’s fur. The golden mouse was lying across his stomach.

“I know, I’m keeping track,” Charles replied. He was getting slightly restless. The surface was even more barren than he had imagined. If the entire surface was exactly like this, then this realm was indeed more despairing than the Subterranean Sea.

With a click, a brass pocket watch was opened and snapped shut again. Charles reached out a hand and placed it on the steering wheel.

“Time’s up, let’s switch,” Charles announced.

“It’s alright, Captain. I’m not tired yet,” Dipp retorted.

“Shut up; move to the passenger seat.” With that, Charles pulled Dipp from his seat and took the latter’s place.

Dipp settled into the passenger seat with a chuckle and peered out at their surroundings with an excited expression. He seemed to have not gotten used to seeing so much land.

“If I were to talk about what I am seeing at the tavern, no one would believe me. To think that there’s really an island as vast as the sea,” Dipp commented

“Does that mean that if humans come up here, we can all own our own plot of land and build a house?” another crew member wondered aloud.

“Oh right, Captain, do you think we can grow black ryegrass here? If we could, maybe we could actually live up here,” another chimed in.

“No. We’ve thought about everything you guys have thought of,” Charles responded. “We’ve yet to find any freshwater sources here. And the soil is saline-alkaline.

“Not to forget, the Light God died here. If a Divinity can perish in this place, what chances would we, humans, have? Do we want to meet our demise even quicker by coming up here?”

The hours slipped by as they had casual conversations. Soon, it was nearing midnight.

Is this the end of this expedition? As soon as the thought came to Charles’ mind, he caught a streak of yellow in front of him. It wasn’t the ordinary dull yellow that was a trademark of a semi-desert. Instead, it was a finer, more vivid hue.

As they drew closer, the rest of the crew also noticed the change in the landscape ahead. It was a desert, right next to the semi-desert they were on.

Although a barren desert wasn’t much better than a semi-desert, the change in scenery brought a slight relief. After all, it meant that there were still geographical variations on the surface; it wasn’t unchanging.