Chapter 17. Island

Charles and his crew boarded the Narwhale. Compared to the dilapidated S.S. Mouse, the Narwhale was undoubtedly much more spacious and clean. She was a sight to behold.

Charles ran through each cabin and inspected every corner meticulously to ensure nothing was amiss. As a captain, he had to be as familiar with every part of the ship as he was with his own body.

After confirming that everything was in order, Charles returned to the bridge. With a gentle wave of his hand, thick black smoke began billowing from the Narwhale's smokestack, and the ship slowly set sail toward the deep sea.

As the Coral Archipelago gradually shrank from his view, Charles walked up to the communication pipe and shouted, "Chief Engineer, how does the new ship feel?"

After a few seconds, James' low voice echoed through the pipe, "Captain, the ship is in great condition! The steam is coming out fast, and it's not hot at all down here; it's only 39 degrees."

"Engage the turbine at maximum capacity. Let's test its speed."

"Aye, Captain!"

As black smoke continued to pour out of the smokestacks, the Narwhale's speed began to climb. When it reached its peak, Charles felt as if he were driving a speedboat as he took the helm.

Charles estimated that the Narwhale was at least three times faster than S.S. Mouse.

Just then, he noticed something white on the surface of the water from the corner of his eye. "Chief Engineer, slow down!"

The speeding Narwhale gradually slowed, and the figure came into clear view. It was the corpse of a giant. It should have been lying in the water, while fish devoured it. But instead, its eerily still body stood on the water surface, while its eyes were fixated on the Narwhale.

Charles wasn't curious about the origin of this creature. He had witnessed even more bizarre things at sea. He simply wanted to provide a target for his new cannon.

Boom!

The recoil of the deck cannon jolted the ship.

Although Charles wasn't a skilled gunner and his accuracy was bad, after firing a dozen shots, the bloated corpse was obliterated by a string of explosions.

Whatever divinity it was that made it rise again, the cannonballs would make it lie back down.

Charles was certain that if he had been on the Narwhale when he encountered the navigational marker monster a while back, the outcome would have been completely different.

After testing the performance of the various components on the new ship, Charles directed his gaze to the nautical chart on the wall. It was provided by the Explorers Association, and it was a crucial tool along with the compass for finding their destination.

"Let's follow Route 6 for now, and when we reach Marker 68, turn south towards our destination," Charles said, sliding his finger across the chart.

"Understood, Captain!" responded the helmsman, Second Mate Conor. The redhead seemed somewhat excited as his eyes scanned the surroundings.

"Your name is... Conor, right?"

"Yes, Captain. That's my name. My mother chose it. Captain, is it true what Frey said? Have you really explored an island before? Can those creatures really alter someone's memory to create a non-existent person? How did you manage to realize the creatures' scheme back then?"

Charles slightly furrowed his brow. The second mate's words brought back an unpleasant memory. "Just focus on steering the ship. The first mate will take over when your shift is over."

Conor was confused as he watched Charles walk out of the room. "Did I ask something that I shouldn't have? I have even prepared words of flattery and all."

Days passed at sea, and the old and new crew members gradually got closer with each other. Apart from Dipp, who couldn't command deference from the other sailors due to his young age, the rest of the crew got along well with each other.

The Narwhale's speed was impressive, and within a mere seven days, they arrived in the vicinity of their target island.

Bright beams of light swept across the pitch-black sea in search for the elusive island.

The nautical chart and compass could only provide a general location, so they would have to rely on laborious methods like this to pinpoint the exact location.

At the bridge, Conor looked to Charles who was standing next to him.

"Captain, I've heard that some people at sea have special methods to locate islands. It's much easier than what we're doing. It seems to be some kind of magic. Do you know how to do it?"

"Stop the nonsense and just focus on steering the wheel," Charles replied. He found Conor's loquaciousness a little excessive.

""I... I have a method," interjected Bandages, who was sitting on a stool.

When both gazes landed on him, Bandages continued slowly, "Our... Covenant... has a ritual... to invoke the help of God Fhtagn. It requires a... human sacrifice."

Charles looked at Bandages with complex emotions. It seemed like his first mate had yet to completely free himself from the doctrine of the Fhtagn cult. Hopefully, time would lessen the indoctrination's influence on him.

"Forget about those disgusting things. We don't need those."

"Captain! Look!" Charles' gaze followed Conor's finger toward the direction it was pointing at. In the distance, a blurry island came into view. They had found it.

The crew members gathered in excitement on the deck as they stared at the distant island.

Having learned from past experiences, Charles didn't rush to get onto the island. Instead, he ordered the Narwhale to circumnavigate the island for observation.

The limited brightness of the ship's lights only allowed them to see the periphery of the island. It was a large landmass, and the Narwhale took three hours to complete one full circuit.

In the dim light, the island appeared desolate, and was dominated by peculiar and misshapen rocks. Some were as tall as three or four floors, while even the smaller ones were half the height of a person. The rocks were scattered in a seemingly patterned manner. For a moment, Charles had the misconception that he had arrived at a quarry.

"Can people actually live in this place?" Dipp asked hesitantly. However, it was a question that no one could answer.

Charles knew that regardless of whether the island was habitable or not, it surely possessed certain dangers. After all, it was classified as a Danger Level 5 island. That meant that five exploration ships had tried to explore this island but had never returned.

"Throw some live fish ashore and see if there are any carnivorous creatures on the island."

Under Charles' command, some sea fish were thrown onto the beach. The crew had even deliberately slashed the fish to create wounds and the scent of blood permeated the air.

Everyone watched in anxiety.

Deprived of water, the sea fish died soon enough. After half an hour, Charles suddenly saw a pair of eyes gleaming amidst the rocks.

Squeak squeak squeak!!

It was an ordinary mouse, with black fur, a slender tail, and small black eyes the size of mung beans.

Under the watchful gaze of everyone, the mouse scurried over to a dead fish and began gnawing at it.

Expressions of joy crept onto everyone's faces. The appearance of a normal creature was good news. If mice could survive on this island, it suggested that humans could too.

However, before they could celebrate, more eyes appeared from the rocks. Those beady eyes shone with anticipation and hunger. Waves of mice then surged towards the dead fish, transforming the white sandy beach into a blanket of black-brown fur.

The sounds of gnawing echoed along the shoreline, sending shivers down the spines of those on the ship.

"That's...That's... a lot of mice..." Second Mate Conor mustered a forced smile as he looked at Charles.

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