Chapter 560 Southern Cross Arm (Part 1)

The mate heard his breathing, the captain's breathing. Even though he was on another ship now, he could hear the captain's breathing. It seems that the veil between reality and illusion is becoming thinner and thinner as the fleet advances towards the endless void beyond the galactic border. The first officer felt that something unrealistic on the captain was slowly sticking out its fangs. It was a great thing that cannot be described in words, and it radiated to the entire fleet with the captain's strong heartbeat. After the crew carved the runes, the feeling became more intense. It seemed that the captain was sleeping on his throne, sleeping in the jungle of steel and cables. The captain's body seemed to be a container for certain things, and the things in the container were slowly poking out their heads.

The rowdy villains quieted down, and even learned to walk softly. For a while, no one betrayed, no one had nightmares, and everything was so peaceful.

The first mate never saw the captain again, and the orders he received were handed over by an old human man wearing a checkered scarf, but the handwriting on them was indeed from the captain. In particular, the tail of the letters that curl up elegantly at the end of the sentence is a text that only the captain can write. "It's for your own good." The first mate still remembered how vicious the old guy's playful expression looked under the pale passage light, "We are sailing towards the border of illusion, where countless monsters from nightmares are born. He is using his own power to protect everyone, using his essence and soul. Not everyone can enter that room now, I think you don't want to become a brainless petitioner, do you?"

"Those people in there..." the first mate asked hesitantly, his bald blue head was covered with pale white scars that had healed. The armor he was wearing was made by the craftsmen ordered by the captain, including the sword on his body. Originally, the first officer didn't like melee weapons, but in the boarding battles again and again, the role of melee weapons has been reflected. The first officer agrees with the captain's aesthetics very much. No weapon can look better than the combination of sword and gun.

"There are still some pilots inside." He found the light leaking from the captain's cabin at the corner of the passage. This shows that the captain still has the light on, and he is still awake. "What about those people?"

"You just think they are dead, they are no longer human." The old guy said the most frightening words in the most flat tone, "Their souls no longer belong to themselves. Soul, Ka... No matter what your civilization calls the collection of body and consciousness, the personal reflection of the ether plane, those crew members don't have those things anymore. Their will is too weak, just like their flesh."

Merlin pointed to other ships through the strengthened glass.

"So do they," he said. "Everyone is affected, but it's better than a nightmare."

Merlin's education to Dave didn't stop. Even if the entire fleet was shrouded in light, he could lead Dave's soul to leave the protection and roam in the twisted nightmare. Whenever Dave couldn't resist, he would pull Dave back into Salomon's light, and then throw him out the next moment. This happened all the time, and Dave was tortured, his spirit gradually weakened, but his strength and technique were also improving at a jaw-dropping rate. On Earth, his medical records would have a list of mental illnesses, but here with the best psychotherapist in the universe, Dave would just be healed and put back on the battlefield.

He is the heir of the Merlin school, and Gaia, the mother goddess of the earth, takes care of this fool.

Salomon is preparing for N-Gale. He had a hunch that he would accomplish his purpose there.

In order for the fleet to sail smoothly to the target location, he can only fall into a deep sleep, to safely and permanently liberate the stigmata, lest the crew be corrupted by Sithorn's dream, and lest he become someone he doesn't know. But his consciousness did not fall into chaos. The parchment and quill around him were still working continuously, and the crew members who had been assimilated by the essence of the stigmata were constantly issuing orders according to his ideas. The souls of these crew members have been melted by the unparalleled power of the stigmata, which made Salomon once again determine the danger of the stigmata.

In other words, his own danger.

The reason why that place is called the [Dream Veil] is because Sithorn's dreams leaked into reality from there. No matter how powerful the seal is, it is impossible to completely block Sithorn's power. If it is feasible, the Scarlet Witch will not be born. Sithorn's dreams have been continuously monitored by the Merlin Wizards for thousands of years, trying to find out the tricks that Sithorn tried to escape.

Sometimes Karma Taj also receives requests for assistance from N-Gala. After Salomon returned to reality from Salem last time, the reason why Karma Taj was able to arrange a team to wipe out the cultists so quickly was because the Merlin Wizards had issued a warning the moment he entered Salem's distorted time and space. Considering the blood relationship between another universe and this universe, this warning is also reasonable, because those cultists are really likely to summon Sithorn's clone and cause huge damage to the real universe.

The manuscript of the Necronomicon also speaks, tempting the spellcaster to learn its dark arts. Salomon planned to give Wanda a copy of the "Necronomicon" that he copied himself after returning to Earth, the kind that couldn't speak. But that was for the future, he was still trapped on an island in the endless void.

The farther you travel to the edge of the galaxy, the fewer ships the fleet encounters. Not only are there no spaceships from alien civilizations, but there are fewer and fewer pirates and smugglers. They sailed outward from the junction between the outer arm of the Southern Cross and the arm of the ship, past wandering old stars in the halo of the Milky Way, and more than once the blazing thoughts of gaseous nebulae nearly burned the fleet. There are only the wreckage of the spaceship here, and the terrifying nightmare is shrouded here, and countless frozen or charred corpses are still floating in the void.

The lights in the captain's room had gone out, and the light that bloomed from him filled the room. From the perspective of the soul, this fleet is surrounded by a layer of golden light, and countless corrupted nightmares and twisted and disgusting monsters are turned into ashes the moment they touch the light. Salomon didn't know how much time had passed on Earth—there were no stars, no planets, only endless void, and the space-time curvature around him was much smaller than that on Earth. He has studied general relativity, he knows what it means, and from a higher dimension, he and the fleet are sailing on the plane of space-time, and the curvature of space-time almost does not exist around him.

The watch on the wrist is still working, but the time has lost its meaning. This is an extremely long journey, and he needs to sleep deeply. He fell into a deep sleep with the faint murmur of pain from within the fleet, with the profane whisper of twisted dreams, with the grand chant of the soul, with the devout prayers of the distant Orion Arm.

Ask for a ticket!