Captain – Chapter 325 – The Siren’s Decision

The Siren was not a deity.

She was neither omniscient nor omnipotent, and thus often felt bewilderment, just as she did in the ice tower when hearing the completely unfamiliar Auran language.

Nor could she control emotions in any absolute sense, unable to block out feelings like loneliness, emptiness, and desolation. So when gazing at that familiar, intimate sea, her eyes that reflected a dull light were filled with vulnerability.

The sea was the homeland of the Siren race, while the sky and land were their paradise.

Having left the lighthouse, she naturally regained her freedom and returned to her home. By all logic, she should have appeared happy and excited, or at least felt relieved.

But she did not.

Earlier, the lighthouse had dimmed because she was extinguishing the lights, preparing for a long journey.

Yet when she came before the sea, ready to plunge in and feel the long-missed embrace and affection of the water, she involuntarily halted her steps.

Because the sea now seemed unfamiliar to her.

This unfamiliarity wasn’t due to the long span of time, nor had it anything to do with apprehension upon nearing home. It was simply because in that ocean, there were no longer any of her kind, not even those souls the devil had mentioned, trapped and suffering within.

Is a home without people still a home?

No, at most it’s just a lifeless dwelling.

Only now did the Siren suddenly realize that when leaving the lighthouse, she had casually extinguished those faint blue specks of light, putting out the lamps, because she had already come to regard that prison as home, and that crystal coffin strewn with petals as her most comfortable bed.

Such careful preparation meant she was planning to return.

It was sad, but also reasonable.

Because that pact with the devil, and the mission she had shouldered for hundreds of years, were what gave her the courage to keep living. They were the meaning of her life, and this lighthouse was her anchor in the river of history.

Now it was proven that the pact was false, and her sisters had long since departed.

The mission was also false. The devil had only taken her song, and the fuel that lit the lighthouse fire was the blood of the devil’s descendants. Whether she lived or died had no meaning at all.

So why continue living?

Rеαd oո КαtRеaԁіnɡСafе

The Siren stood on the shore, thinking silently.

Because she was earnest, and also because until now, she remained voiceless, unable to produce even the simplest sounds, let alone sing.

This meant the devil’s curse had not been completely broken.

The chains binding her ankles had been broken, but the collar around her neck had not been removed. Thus, she was still that devil’s slave, the most humble prisoner.

But now she wasn’t thinking about these things, only pondering the meaning of life and death.

Sea spirits were naturally intelligent, and unlike those either great or foolish philosophers, they were not troubled by questions of origin and destination. So in an extremely short time, she understood everything, and the notion of death in her heart scattered with the wind as if it had never existed.

She was the last Siren in the world, the final ember of this race, and naturally had to live on, and live well at that.

The Siren race had incredibly long lifespans, even appearing endless within finite time, so they rarely considered questions of reproduction, and besides…

They couldn’t reproduce.

Sea spirits were children of the gods, with a fixed “population” from birth that couldn’t naturally increase. It was precisely because of this that they were so easily found and killed by that devil.

But didn’t this mean the Siren race was destined for extinction?

After all, no matter how long a lifespan, without the ability to reproduce, it would eventually end. There were legends from ancient times of sea spirits passing away.

The Siren gazing at the sea didn’t think so.

Though she was the youngest child, raised by her sisters from infancy, she had still felt her mother’s love. Those innate abilities and talents, the world’s acceptance and kindness toward her, were concrete expressions of that love.

Through her sisters’ stories, she knew her mother had gone to a distant shore.

All departed deities had gone there and, in principle, wouldn’t return, but… who could truly guarantee that?

This hope was also one of the spiritual pillars supporting her desire to live.

Having understood this question, the Siren naturally wouldn’t waste more time dwelling on it, and began thinking about other matters, such as where to go next and what to do.

Reаԁ оո КαtReaԁіոɡСаfe

Living requires a reason, but equally must be given meaning.

This is what all intelligent life relies on to escape nihilism, and the Siren was no exception. Therefore, she thought even more seriously than before.

No one knows how many possibilities she considered in that brief time, how many choices were born and extinguished. After a long while, the girl finally stopped her endless search, focusing her thoughts and attention on a few sentences.

Those were the words Roy had spoken when they first met.

At that time, the captain had used Auran and many other languages, but without exception, she couldn’t understand them or their meaning.

Incomprehension sparks curiosity.

This holds true whether for Roy with her cat-like curiosity, an actual cat, or a Siren – there isn’t much difference.

Thus, she decided to find that captain and get clear answers to these questions.

As for whether other reasons existed in this decision, such as the goodwill Roy had shown her, the captain’s painstaking efforts to rescue her, or the sentiments expressed when releasing the raven – that’s known only to the Siren herself.

Having made her decision, the sea spirit hesitated no more and lightly leaped toward the sea surface.

“Splash.”

A barely audible sound of entering water rose.

The girl transformed into a shadow, swimming toward deeper, more distant waters.

Her speed was astonishingly fast; not only warships but even the fastest fish in the ocean world were far slower than she.

In those ceaselessly churning waters, amid the splashing white foam, fine blue-green scales flashed momentarily. But they were no longer covering pale skin, but rather… growing on a tail as beautiful as in fairy tales, as if that was how it was always meant to be.

The Siren had countless names.

She was a sea spirit, and also a mermaid.

“Thud.”

Rеаⅾ оո KatRеаⅾіոɡСafe

A muffled sound spread out.

Under the pirates’ eager gazes, Roy returned to the Mermaid, and unlike when she assassinated Robert and fled his residence, she wasn’t in a sorry state. Instead, she safely landed on the bridge, touching down with consummate grace and elegance.

Because she wasn’t the one who was tired.

The young dragon wobbled down and collapsed in its position from before departure, looking somewhat droopy and clearly exhausted. The raven, as usual, perched on its head, head held high and chest puffed out, proud as a general returning victorious.

“Are you alright, Captain?”

No sooner had she greeted the crew than the concerned question sounded in the girl’s ear.

Roy turned to look at her first mate, smiling and shrugging her shoulders, asking as if it were obvious: “What could possibly happen to your captain?”

As she spoke, the girl glanced at the white fog behind her, raising an eyebrow slightly.

She was somewhat surprised to discover that the distance between the Mermaid and their pursuer was even greater than she had initially estimated, naturally giving them no chance to exchange fire.

“Your decision was correct, and decisive enough.”

Roy withdrew her gaze and couldn’t help patting Caine’s shoulder, her tone full of appreciation, though also containing some undisguised astonishment.

The directive she had given before leaving was to avoid engaging the Death Silence in combat until her return, and Caine had mentioned the words “depart first” in his question.

She hadn’t expected him to actually do this.

If it had been Ben, or even the more resolute Harriet making the decision, they would likely have chosen to linger in the waters near the ice tower, maneuvering against the Death Silence as much as possible. Even if they departed, they wouldn’t have gone at full speed, just waiting for her return before making further decisions.

Such a strategy wouldn’t have been wrong either.

Given the Mermaid’s agility in storms, dancing a “social dance” with the Death Silence in these waters wouldn’t have posed much risk.

But anything can go wrong.

The captain was neither deity nor devil, unable to calculate everything.

Rеаd οո КatRеаⅾіոɡСаfе

She could estimate the approximate time it would take for the Death Silence to catch up with the Mermaid in the storm, but hadn’t anticipated Vivian appearing at the lighthouse, delaying her for some time.

This delay wasn’t long, but if the Mermaid had truly been circling the coastal waters, it might have been tailed closely by the Death Silence, with little chance of shaking it off.

That would have been a very dangerous situation.

But Caine hadn’t waited for her.

Even before the lighthouse light ignited, perhaps even earlier, he had already guided the Mermaid some distance away. This allowed them to seize the initiative when that intense golden light beam cut through the eternal night, leaving the Death Silence a considerable distance behind.

This truly surprised and delighted Roy.

It must be understood that this seemingly simple decision would have faced considerable resistance.

Leaving the captain behind and sailing ahead with full sails – if not for their special relationship, Lance and the crew members who had been loyal to her previously might have thought this was another mutiny, and at that point, everyone would naturally have objected.

It seemed this relationship still had some use after all.

Thinking about this privately, Roy gestured for the young man to step aside, naturally taking over the helm, saying: “I’ll take it from here.”

Watching the confident profile of the girl, though knowing it might not be the right time, driven by some emotion, Caine gazed at the increasingly close fog behind the Mermaid and asked: “So, Captain, would this count as an achievement?”

When saying this, it wasn’t clear if he was trying to break the somewhat gloomy atmosphere or thinking about the awkwardness they had encountered before parting.

Roy knew it was the latter.

She glanced at the seemingly absent-minded young man, deliberately raising her voice a bit, asking: “Is this the time to talk about such things?”

Caine didn’t react, as if he hadn’t heard.

The captain pursed her lips, her gaze following that beam of light toward the distant horizon, somewhat reluctantly adding: “Fine, I’ll credit you. As for the reward…”

“We’ll discuss it when we have time.”

As she said these four words, there was no reluctance in Roy’s eyes, only some amusement. The fatigue and gravity hidden in the depths of her eyes also dispersed somewhat.