Schliemann wore wooden handcuffs and looked at the bishop in crimson cassocks in front of the altar without saying a word.
What he faced was a religious trial.
The bishop's face was as dark as water, and his chin was slightly raised, trying to exude the authority given to him by his God.
"Name."
"Schliemann von Ardenne."
The vibrato of Schliemann's answer, combined with the high head held high, gave the impression of a strange piety about to voluntarily go to the altar.
"I heard that you are blaspheming the supreme sun. Is this true?"
Schliemann could feel the hostility of the people around him, and even the expressions of the statues of gods carved on the stone pillars in the hall became angry.
"I just don't like the sun always hanging on top of my head. Where I was born, there is day, night, sun, and moon. Our sun rises in the east and sets in the west, unlike here..."
Schliemann's words were drowned out by the murmurs of the crowd. Some chuckled, some sighed and shook their heads, but most people accused Schliemann of the blasphemy in his remarks.
"Quiet, quiet!"
The bishop's voice was like a loud bell, echoing endlessly in the hall.
That the supreme sun would set seemed unbelievable to them.
"Some people say that you come from the blue sea full of curses and evil spirits?"
"Yes, when I first came here five years ago, I saw the blue sea and the dark forest when I opened my eyes."
"So where were you five years ago?"
Schliemann's gaze focused through the bishop and through the wall, as if he was recalling something very long ago but very clear.
"Before, I was working in a geological exploration company..."
What he muttered was the language of his original world, and his accent, which sounded like chanting a spell to others, scared the people around him to hold their breath.
Everyone's necks that were originally stretched out now retracted, their eyes evaded, and they whispered that the semicircle that was originally surrounded by them was now doubled in size, as if as long as they breathed in the air exhaled by Schliemann, disaster would come to them. Come.
The bishop's expression was equally horrified. He raised his hands and spoke plausibly, as if he was exorcising evil spirits.
"This man's soul died in the Blue Sea five years ago! Now he has long been possessed by the evil spirits in the Blue Sea! Come on! Tie him down and let his body return to the embrace of the Flame God!"
The outcome of the burning did not surprise Schliemann; in fact, it was part of his plan.
In the square in front of the Flame God Temple, Schliemann, who was tied to the stake, looked up at the sky. The orange sun hanging above everyone's head was still there, and a few black spots on it were clearly visible, like a sun. Several pupils on each eyeball looked down at this madness.
Bundles of firewood were piled up in a circle around Schliemann. A man was pouring kerosene on the firewood. The smell of something going bad went straight into Schlieman's head.
The crowd was dense. They gathered around the bishop, but did not dare to get too close. While enjoying the protection of the clergy, they would not offend the other party's majesty, like a group of chirping animal cubs.
He walked to the side of the burning place and raised a hand. The chaotic crowd gradually became silent like wheat blown down by the wind.
He shook his hands, and after the shaking cassock hung down, he raised his right hand and began to recite the dharma words.
The crowd lowered their heads, clasped their hands, and some even had tears in their eyes. They followed the bishop and whispered softly, making a coordinated rustling sound like leaves swaying in the wind at night.
"Schliemann von Ardenne! May the God of Fire purify your soul!"
Faced with the judgment handed down by God's spokesman, Schliemann seemed not to have heard it. He raised his head and ignored the boiling people and the executioner who was getting closer and closer.
With a long whistle, everyone's eyes were drawn to the sky.
The black shadow gradually enveloped everyone, blocking the glory of the supreme sun.
That was Schliemann's flying ship Crescent, which looked like a sailboat with two pontoons.
With a whoosh, a steel anchor with a rope was inserted into the brick street, and rubble flew across the square.
At the same time, Schliemann twisted his hands and broke free of the shackles that were enough to restrain a cow. He easily broke the rope on his body, kicked away the firewood, ran to the steel anchor in a few steps, and grabbed it Pulled it out.
The Crescent rose rapidly and retracted the steel anchor at the same time. Amid the chaotic screams of everyone, Schliemann, who was holding the steel spear, followed the steel spear off the ground.
He looked back and saw that the bishop standing in the crowd and raising his arms and shouting had completely lost the appeal given to him by God.
Although he tried to keep people from panicking, the height of the flying ship, which was almost close to the temple tower, shattered the sense of security God had given the people. They ran around like a colony of frightened ants.
"Captain, welcome back."
Schliemann said "hmm", looked at his first mate with white stubble on his face, and asked: "Anthony, why are you so slow?"
"There are three flying ship garrison on this sky island. It took some effort to get the Crescent Moon to leave the docking area quietly."
"Did you get the stuff?"
"I got it, Pato is guarding it in the cargo hold on the second floor.
Hey, Captain, did you find what you were looking for? "
"That thing has nothing to do with the place of return."
Schliemann shook his head and answered, his face full of disappointment. The disappointment was so real that it was in sharp opposition to the joy and certainty he felt before setting off.
Because this place of return that Schliemann was looking for in his dreams is the legendary bridge connecting another world, and it is Schlieman's only hope to return to his own world.
In order to obtain clues, news, and even vague legends about the place of return, he spent all his income, even taking on such dirty work this time.
On the bridge, the helmsman and crew chief saluted Schliemann. Their breathing was rapid and excited, like cats tasting fishy smell for the first time.
Schliemann issued a series of orders, and the airbags of the flying ship began to inflate and the speed began to increase.
Anthony stood next to Schliemann and said: "Captain, I have a question, why do you always leave the most dangerous work to yourself? You must know that you are the captain!"
Obviously, in the eyes of the old first mate, it is not the captain's job to lead by example.
"I'm afraid if you don't do it well, it will kill you."
Seeing Schliemann's embarrassing pious look, Anthony grinned, leaned his head closer, and whispered: "Captain, please take off that piece of shit."
Schliemann was stunned for a moment, then quickly took off the pendant hanging around his neck, took out a leather bag and stuffed it into it.
This leaf-shaped pendant that had been with him for five years was an absolute curse.
Although wearing it can significantly improve strength, the side effect of answering every question and telling the truth always makes Schliemann extremely embarrassed.
Twenty minutes later, behind the Crescent, three smaller flying ships had become small dots that appeared and disappeared. It was impossible for them to catch up with the Crescent.
"Such a small island actually has a garrison fleet..."
After Schliemann sighed, he gave the order to the crew to return to port at full speed.
For the crew, the order to return is undoubtedly the order they most want to hear. There are not only warm beds in their hometown, but also everything soft about the girl.
And Schliemann didn't like to return, because for him it was equivalent to giving up exploring the direction of the return place, and it was getting further and further away from his home.
Before returning, Schliemann had to inspect the cargo, which he was willing to risk at the stake.
When he and Anthony arrived at the second-floor cargo hold, a slight murmur made him stop.
Schliemann opened the bag and took out the leaf-shaped pendant and tied it to his chest. He took out his homemade musket and moved forward carefully from the piles of goods.
Following the dim light from the oil lamp, Pato's vague back appeared in front of Schliemann. He was kneeling there, shoulders hunched and murmuring in his mouth.
Next to Pato, the old wooden box with several tentacles carved on it has been opened.
"Yelina, take me away...Yelina, take me away..."
The voice was vague, like the subconscious murmuring of an extremely frightened person.
Schliemann immediately stopped. He stopped Anthony, who wanted to probe, and began to retreat until the two left the second-floor cargo hold.
"Didn't you tell him that he couldn't open it and look at it?"
Anthony's hands were trembling, the lantern was swinging back and forth, and the shadows of the entire cargo hold were shaking, as if a group of evil spirits were wandering back and forth.
"I told him...but who knew he..."
Anthony's eyes fell on the pendant on Schliemann's chest, and he grabbed Schlieman's wrist as if it was his only life-saving straw.
"Captain, let me ask you, are we all going to die?"
Schliemann raised his head from his thoughts, his brows knitted together.
"What we have to do next, if one of us gets scared, the entire spaceship will die."
Anthony nodded solemnly, his hands no longer trembling. He knew that the captain was telling the truth, and based on his three years of sailing, the captain's judgment was always correct.
A few minutes later, Schliemann handed the pendant and homemade musket to Anthony. He himself was tightly dressed and wore two pairs of thick gloves.
"Before I cover that damn thing, you must not go up. Just take one look and we will look like Pato."
After Schliemann finished speaking, he raised the sheet in his hand. After briefly taking a look at Pato's position, he closed his eyes, then raised the sheet and rushed forward.
In the chaos, Schliemann touched a hard object and pressed it firmly under his body with both hands.
After a shrill howl, Pato attacked Schliemann like crazy, roaring incessantly.
"Give it back! Give it back!"
The sound was extremely shrill, as harsh as scraping glass with an iron blade.
Schliemann curled up to bear Pato's fist. He closed his eyes and pulled the sheets to wrap the hard object as tightly as possible.
"Anthony! I'm covering it! Come on!"
Anthony was stunned, not because of Pato's crazy attack, but because he saw Pato's face.
The position of the eyes on that face had become two deep holes, and blood gushes out. Pato's originally dark and handsome face disappeared, turning into a bloodless, weird, distorted face.
After glancing at the shapeless thing wrapped in Schliemann's arms, Anthony quickly looked away and bumped into Pato.
Anthony, who was blessed by the pendant, knocked Pato away. He hit the wall of the boat on the side of the cargo hold, his neck clicked, and his whole body slid down the wall of the boat.
Schliemann had already wrapped the hard object, stuffed it into the wooden box together with the sheets, stood up, and let out a sigh of relief.
"I, I, I... didn't want to kill him..."
"I know, sometimes it's hard to control your strength..."
Before Schliemann finished speaking, Pato's body twitched a few times, and he climbed up unsteadily, his head hanging on his shoulders, and the blood in his eyes was still flowing.
"Give me back...Give me back...Yelina...Take me away...Take me away..."
