Charles wiped his sweaty palms on his clothes, his mind racing.
These creatures were talking about disaster? What kind of disaster could there be on the surface? Could the extreme heat on the surface have been caused by humans themselves?
"Light-skins, leave! Going up will only bring disaster!!"
The giant mantises continued fluttering their wings, repeating the same words.
Seeing the six-meter-long mantises surrounding them, Charles knew the most important thing now was not to provoke them.
After carefully considering his words, he spoke up. "Who are you? Why won’t you let us go up?"
Since they could communicate, perhaps he could extract some information from them.
But the mantises had no intention of engaging in conversation. The fluttering of their wings grew more frantic.
"Light-skins, go down, now!! The last disaster was caused by you!! The contract is over! We will never trust your words again! Never!!" All the mantises extended their scythe-like limbs.
"What disaster are you talking about? What’s happening on the surface? I don’t know who the humans were that you last interacted with, but I’m not with them!" Charles shouted at them.
The fluttering of wings ceased, and the mantises, gathered in a circle, hung on the cliff walls like statues.
Time seemed to stand still at that moment, both humans and the monsters on the walls frozen in place.
Charles felt the sunlight above growing even more intense. He grabbed the ropes and climbed up to the balloon like a nimble monkey.
Standing firmly, he squinted upward. About three hundred meters above, a bright blue patch with the sun’s glow peeked through. That was the surface, his original home.
At that very moment, with a "buzz," the mantises spread their grotesque wings and pounced.
Their sharp scythes sliced through the balloon like tofu. As the sound of tearing leather and splintering wood echoed, the Ascension Vessel was torn apart. Among the wreckage were the bodies of some crew members.
But for some reason, the mantises didn’t attack Charles. They hung on the cliff walls, their bud-like heads turned toward the falling Charles.
Charles quickly adjusted his position mid-air, hoping the surviving Church of Light followers would come to his rescue.
However, he was mistaken this time. The surviving believers from the Ascension Vessel didn’t follow him down. They resolutely flew toward the dangerous tunnels. "The Cardinal’s mission must be completed! Long live the Sun God!!"
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From Charles’ perspective, they looked like moths flying into a flame.
As he completely fell out of the crack, he saw countless mantises pouncing on the believers in the blinding sunlight.
The speed of his descent was rapid. Charles had no time to worry about others now. If he hit the water from this height, it would be no different from hitting concrete.
The howling wind pressure made Charles’ hair whip around wildly. His mind raced, searching for a way to save himself.
As the sea surface rapidly approached, Charles pulled out the Bat Lens and smeared it with blood from his right hand.
The grotesque bat monster rapidly flapped its wings, slowing his descent. When he was about twenty meters above the sea, Charles finally stopped.
But the next second, without warning, a "bang" sounded, and red flames engulfed him. Charles felt a searing pain all over his body.
Sunlight was the bane of vampires. In just a few seconds, Charles’ fate would change from falling to his death to burning to death.
In desperation, Charles retracted his wings and plunged into the icy sea.
Seeing something fall from the crack into the sea, the people on Hope Island were on edge. Those with good swimming skills rushed to the sea to try and rescue whoever had fallen.
Soon, a barely conscious Charles was helped into the grass hut by Feuerbach.
Cardinal Hoon, leading a group of believers, was the first to approach. He asked anxiously, "What happened up there? Did you see the God of Light?"
Charles, blackened and weak, waved his hand dismissively. "No. We were attacked by creatures living on the cave ceiling. They’re the ones stopping us from going up."
"What do those creatures look like? How many are there?" Hoon pressed.
But he wouldn’t get an answer. Charles’ head tilted to the side as he passed out.
An unknown amount of time later, Charles awoke to find himself lying on a clean bed, his body wrapped in thick white bandages.
As he moved slightly, a sharp pain shot through his body.
"Don’t move." The doctor’s aged voice came from the left.
Charles strained to turn his head and saw the ship’s doctor mixing some kind of potion, with Bandages sitting nearby.
"Didn’t I tell you not to move?" The doctor quickly repositioned Charles’ head.
"How long was I out?"
"About seven or eight days. You were badly injured; a lot of your skin was burned."
"Heh, that serious? Looks like I’ll have quite a few scars."
Hearing Charles’ light tone, the doctor’s ugly face showed surprise. "You seem in good spirits for someone so badly injured."
Recalling the glimpse he had seen, Charles’ lips curled into a faint smile. It was the first time in nine years he had seen the outside world.
Though the intense light had made it hard to see clearly, the sight had been beautiful in his mind. "It’s fine. It was worth it."
The doctor’s face showed a hint of disdain. "Sure, keep risking your life. The day you lose it, I’ll finally be able to leave this ship."
Charles didn’t have time for small talk. The important information he had seen in the crack needed to be shared with the Church of Light followers.
Since the mantises were just living creatures, it would be easier to deal with them. Once they were cleared, the path to the surface would be open.
"Doctor, call Hoon over. I need to talk to him."
"Quiet. You’re in no condition to see anyone. Focus on recovering."
As the doctor spoke, he injected a black potion into Charles’ arm. Charles’ eyelids grew heavy, and he lost consciousness.
The doctor limped out of the ward. A Church of Light follower waiting at the door immediately stood up, asking anxiously, "Has Governor Charles woken up?"
"Why the rush? He’s still out!" The doctor roughly pushed past him and left.
Walking out of the narrow corridor, the doctor stepped onto the deck of the Narwhal. He gazed wistfully at the bright Hope Island in the distance and took a swig of liquor.
"Captain… woke up… why didn’t you… tell them…"
Hearing the slow, drawn-out voice behind him, the doctor didn’t turn around. "Let him rest. The only thing keeping him still now is that sickbed."