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Duncan, who had summoned this unusual group, required each for different purposes. Morris, with his vast knowledge, was invaluable for understanding the layout of the labyrinthine city and pinpointing the elusive “Scott Brown.” Vanna, known for her relentless pursuit of enemies, was essential for trailing the cultists and potentially forging ties with the local church. Alice’s inclusion, however, was a bit of an oddity…

While Duncan did not particularly need Alice’s assistance, her interest in this adventure was so fervent he couldn’t dissuade her. Besides, given that she wore the disguise of the Frost Queen, he figured her presence could add a dash of unexpected entertainment.

With the eerie spectral flames of the gate dissolving abruptly into thin air, Ai, the faithful dove-like companion, settled onto a branch of a nearby tree. The chill of the chilly wind seemed to seep through Morris’ coat, causing him to draw it tighter around him as he studied the city’s brightly lit expanses. Alice wore an expression of curiosity, inspecting the unfamiliar surroundings, while Vanna, with her sharp instincts, had already spotted the ominous figure lurking in the shadows.

It was a figure that defied nature – a body that shouldn’t have been able to stand, yet did so with calm assurance. The faint remnants of its former attire suggested an identity lost to time. An inexplicable sense of connection welled up within Vanna’s heart, and with an uncanny certainty, she concluded that this figure she encountered for the first time was indeed the captain.

Approaching Duncan, Vanna scrutinized him again, her brow furrowed in worry. Though she knew Duncan used “avatars” to navigate city-states, she found the state of this body unsettling, “Your body…”

Dismissing her concern with a quiet voice, Duncan replied, “In truth, it’s in pretty decent condition – the appearance is just a tad disturbing. Locating an appropriate and compatible avatar is a game of chance. This one’s definitely an improvement on that ‘sacrifice’ you saw in the sewer.”

His words spurred an unpleasant flashback, causing Vanna’s eyes to twitch involuntarily. Whispering, she said, “… I’d prefer not to recall that.”

With a chuckle, Duncan turned his gaze to Alice, still engrossed in surveying their surroundings. “Quit gawking and lend a hand – have you brought everything?” he asked.

Snapping back to the task at hand, Alice scurried over to Duncan, brandishing a small box she had been carrying, “I have it, I have it! There’s clothes and bandages… Oh my! Captain, your face looks dreadful…”

Ignoring the puppet’s dramatic reaction, Duncan accepted the box, revealing its contents: a black trench coat perfect for hiding any physical aberrations, a large collar capable of covering the face and neck when raised, gloves, shoes, a matching black wide-brimmed hat, bandages, a stash of cash, and a meticulously folded city map. The contents were more extensive than he had anticipated.

Absorbed in acclimating to his new body, Duncan had allocated most of his focus here, neglecting the situation on the ship. When he’d sent the message to Alice through Goathead, he only mentioned the necessity of clothes and bandages. The additional items, including the cash, did not seem like something Alice would have thought of on her own.

Before he could voice his thoughts, Alice explained, “Mr. Tyrian assisted with the preparations. He found out you were venturing into the city-state and asked me to bring these along. He also said the map is updated and marked with the Mist Fleet’s covert contact points, and something about lines… oh, what did he call them…?”

“Those would be informants. Individuals on the periphery of the Mist Fleet still living in the city,” Duncan added with a touch of nostalgia in his tone, “He may have said he wouldn’t set foot on Frost again… but he can’t tear his gaze away from this city; it’s as if he’s here in spirit.”

Upon Duncan’s clarification, Alice nodded in understanding, “Right, informants. Will these things be of any use?”

Affirming her question, Duncan responded, “Indeed, they will be. Tyrian has been very thoughtful.”

Handing the bandages to Vanna, Duncan asked her for help. Vanna had predicted Duncan’s intentions from the contents of the box. With a hint of apprehension, she still asked before attending to Duncan, “Is this really alright? You still stand out…”

“The intention is mere camouflage; I don’t plan to make a life in Frost with this facade,” Duncan said, cooperating with Vanna’s actions, “As long as I don’t draw unnecessary attention from city guardians on the streets, it’ll suffice. In circumstances where my mobility is restricted, I’ll rely on your assistance and Morris’s.”

After ensuring Vanna was up to the task, she skillfully began to wrap the bandages around Duncan. Her adept hands demonstrated her familiarity with the job; dealing with injuries was an inevitable part of life on the front lines of their struggle.

Meanwhile, Alice watched Vanna’s work with eager eyes, “May I assist?”

Evaluating the height disparity between the petite puppet and the towering Vanna, Duncan then looked at his own stature, which exceeded six feet. He chuckled at the notion, “I’m afraid not. Your head might tumble off from looking up,” and then added a word of caution, “Remember, we are in a city-state, and Frost at that. Be careful with your disguise. Ensure your wig and head stay put, and don’t remove your face veil. Got it? Your appearance could startle anyone over fifty around here.”

Alice instantly obliged, “Understood!”

Duncan then turned to Vanna, who had altered her appearance for their mission in the unfamiliar city. Her usual eye-catching armor and giant sword were swapped for ordinary clothes, which was more fitting for moving around the city undetected. She wore a belted, long gray coat for women, coupled with black pants and boots. Her long, gray-white hair still flowed freely behind her, making her appear energetic as always, but without her armor and sword, she seemed somewhat softer.

Nonetheless, standing at a lofty six-foot-three, her current outfit may have deflected questions, but going unnoticed was still a tall order.

Before long, Duncan’s face was concealed beneath a layer of bandages, leaving only his eyes and a small area of skin near his left eye visible. He then donned the high-collared black trench coat, gloves, shoes, and wide-brimmed hat. Remarkably, these items fit him perfectly, mirroring his own robust build.

Duncan meticulously buttoned up his trench coat, envisioning his current appearance: a black trench coat enveloping him from head to toe, a wide-brimmed hat and high collar concealing most of his face, black leather gloves on his hands, and the bandages peeping out from the gaps in his clothes.

With a pause, he addressed the young inquisitor beside him, “Vanna, tell me honestly…”

With a sigh, Vanna responded, “Inexperienced city guardians or sheriffs might immediately stop you for questioning.”

Momentarily taken aback, Duncan asked, “… And the experienced ones?”

“They would likely call for reinforcements.”

Duncan was silent for a moment.

Vanna quickly added, “Actually, it’s not as serious as it sounds,” she broke into a smile, shaking her head, “The situations I mentioned would only occur in the high-security core city areas, which are heavily guarded. In ordinary urban areas, you should be fine. I’m basing my assumptions on experiences in Pland, but Frost should be similar. The only potential problem could be your bandages…”

However, before she could finish her thought, Morris interrupted, “The bandages might actually prove beneficial in terms of camouflage. They could help avoid a lot of unnecessary attention.”

Upon this statement, Duncan turned towards him, seeking an explanation.

Morris elaborated, “Frost primarily worships the god of death, hence symbols and customs related to death are commonplace here. Devout followers even intentionally add bandage-like decorations to their clothing, while the daily attire of priests incorporates similar elements. At most, you might be mistaken for an eccentric death worshipper.”

Vanna, surprised at this revelation, admitted, “I was not aware of this. I’m only familiar with the doctrines and taboos of the other three churches.”

Morris chuckled, “Understanding the unique customs and practices of each city-state requires in-depth study.”

Duncan directed his gaze at the elder scholar, “Is this knowledge from your ‘old friend’?”

A moment of silence ensued before Morris responded with a soft sigh, “Yes, indeed. Scott Brown, a renowned folklorist, spent his life traveling through the central and northern city-states, particularly Frost and Cold Harbor. He often sent me letters detailing the unique customs and practices found in these places.”