"Year 435, January 11th
We've finally arrived. May the Great Power bless us—as long as we retrieve the Holy Relic, I can undergo the initiation and become a true servant of the Holy Master!"
This was the last entry in the journal. From the titles used, it was clear that the captain was a believer of the Futan Sect. It wasn't hard to guess that the Futan Sect had sent their own devotees here before seeking out Charles.
Charles sent his crew to search the other ships, and they found that the situation was much the same on each one. The captains' journals all recorded their excitement in their final moments.
Just as Charles was trying to figure it all out, the skinny chef, Frey, handed over a diary. "Captain, take a look at this one. It's a bit different."
Charles took it and flipped it open. His pupils instantly constricted to pinpricks. The pale yellow pages were filled with chaotic words.
"Be careful! Don't go to the island, our own people!! They're not human!! They want to eat us! I don't want to be—! I have to go back to the island, it's safe! The island!"
The jumble of illogical phrases indicated that the writer's mind had snapped. A chill went down the spine of everyone who read it, making them wonder what on earth that captain had experienced.
GULP. Deep swallowed hard, recoiling and warily eyeing the companions he spent every day with. The diary said the danger came from their own people. Does that mean a monster is already hiding among us?
Charles knew what he was thinking and smacked him on the head with the diary. "Don't let your imagination run wild. We haven't even set foot on the island yet."
"Captain, are we still going?" Deep's tone was hesitant.
"Of course we're going." Charles's expression suddenly hardened. No matter what dangers awaited on that island, nothing could block his way home. Even if he had to die, he would die on the path to it.
The Rat slowly approached the beach. After its rusted anchor smashed into the water, the black smoke from the smokestack gradually dissipated.
A wooden boat was lowered, and all the men climbed in to head toward the island.
As the shadowy island loomed closer, Charles opened a wooden crate and distributed several Flintlock Guns and Revolvers. On the bottom layer were bundles of tightly wrapped dynamite. He had specially purchased a great deal of equipment for this mission. With weapons in hand, everyone felt much more composed.
Seven well-built, armed men jumped from the wooden boat, crossed the beach, and walked toward the distant forest.
Though it was called a forest, not a single speck of green was to be seen. The gnarled, twisted branches seemed coated in a thick layer of rust. The trunks of the trees were cancerous, some bulging grotesquely while others were suddenly concave. Walking through it gave one the strange illusion of moving through the insides of a living body.
The crew all knew their target was a golden Futan statue. By the light of their torches, they scoured their surroundings for anything that glittered, but they came up with nothing.
Before long, a set of scattered footprints appeared on the ground. Seeing signs of other people brought a small measure of relief; it meant others had walked this path, so it should be a bit safer.
Perhaps their guess was right, because they walked for nearly two hours without anything out of the ordinary happening.
After they gathered some branches and started a bonfire, the tense atmosphere eased slightly. The white bread was toasted to a crispy, fragrant brown, and as the crewmen ate, they speculated on the fate of the people who had disappeared.
"You think monsters ate them? Like those things from the sea?"
"Doesn't seem likely. Some of the people on those ships were from the Futan Sect, and you know how sea creatures rarely attack them. I think there's some other danger on the island itself."
Charles didn't join the discussion. He remained wary, scanning their strange surroundings. This forest was unnervingly quiet. Other than the sounds they made themselves, there was nothing—not the chirp of an insect or the call of a bird.
It was bizarre for an island to have no apparent danger. He had read the logs of many explorers, and not a single island in the Abyss-Sea was safe. The islands currently inhabited by humans had only been settled after the dangers were cleared through immense effort.
Take the Coral Islands. When humans first reached them, they discovered the main island was actually alive. A fleet of over twenty Exploration Ships waged war against the giant coral. It was said many died before they finally brought it down, effectively burying it under the wrecks of their own fleet.
"Enough chatter. Finish eating so we can get moving. The longer we stay in this place, the more dangerous it gets."
At Charles's words, the crew stopped talking and began to eat faster. After the brief rest to restore their strength, Charles and his men set out once more.
"Captain, I heard when we get back, we'll get a big ship. Is that true?" Deep sidled up and asked in a low voice.
"Mm."
"That's great! Then I can be a sailor chief on a big ship, in charge of a dozen sailors, not like now where I don't even have half a sailor to my name."
Charles glanced at the eager young man, a smile tugging at his lips. It's good to be young, always looking on the bright side. Still, we really do need more sailors. The Rat may not be large, but having no sailors at all is just ridiculous.
Charles and his men followed the path, but it seemed to stretch on endlessly. If not for the subtle changes in the footprints on the ground, Charles would have sworn they were just walking in place.
After nearly three hours of walking, their legs aching, the forest suddenly cleared. A stone structure entangled in brown vines appeared before them.
From the outside, the building looked dilapidated, and it was impossible to tell if it was a temple or a church. Where the large wooden doors should have been, there was now just a gaping, pitch-black hole.
Charles grabbed Bandages, pointing grimly at the dark opening. "Is the thing in there?"
Bandages hesitated before nodding. "It should be… I'm not… sure… Sorry… My memory's not so good…"
Regardless, Charles decided to go in and see for himself. At the very least, the footprints led straight to the entrance without any signs of a struggle. The danger hadn't appeared yet.
"Let's go," Charles said to his Chief Engineer and the chef. "The four of us will go take a look."
James and Frey both nodded and followed him inside.
Torchlight illuminated the interior. In stark contrast to its dilapidated exterior, the inside was immaculately clean and empty. The smooth, red stone floor was free of even a single speck of dust. What covered the walls, however, made their scalps tingle.
The walls were covered in layers of grotesque reliefs depicting malformed creatures beyond human imagination, all tangled together. One looked like a twisted hybrid of a starfish and an octopus, with a single eye embedded in the center of its bizarre body. From their body language, they vaguely appeared to be worshiping something.
But these strange reliefs didn't hold their attention for long. All eyes were drawn to the golden statue standing in the very center of the room. It was a freakish, humanoid figure covered in tentacles—unmistakably the Futan God.