A month passed quickly, and soon it was time to set sail again.
Black smoke billowed from the Narwhal's smokestack once more as Charles led the newly recruited crew onto the deck.
"Bandage, go assign the shift times for the new crew members," Charles said to the first mate at his side.
The silent first mate nodded, striding off on his newly regrown leg to lead the new crew members toward the deck.
Meanwhile, Charles brought Audric to the Captain's Room, where the massive, newly purchased sea chart lay spread open on the table. Islands, peril zones, and regions of darkness were all marked with utter clarity.
Charles said to the Vampire before him, "Where's Sodoma? Mark it."
"Uh, I can't see. Please tell me where Dark Crystal Island is."
Charles pressed his finger onto a thumbtack on the map. "This is Dark Crystal Island."
Tracing from Dark Crystal Island, Audric drew an arc on the chart with his finger, then jabbed gently with his sharp nail. "Here."
That spot isn't as far as I expected. "Sodoma is here? This close?"
"It sometimes appears here on the 6th and 25th of the month. That's when it shows up."
Charles was stunned. "Appears? Isn't it an island? Does it move?"
"Yes, Captain. To be exact, it's a ship—a massive vessel patched together from boats looted by pirates."
Staring at the dot on the chart, Charles swiftly calculated the voyage time and necessary supplies in his head. Even though Audric sounds so certain, that information is forty years old. If nothing is there, we'll at least have enough supplies to make it back.
"Did you pack enough Blood Plasma Bags?"
Audric nodded quickly. "Plenty. I've prepared a sixty-day supply."
"Reserve some. If we end up in heavy combat, I might need them."
"Understood. But Captain Charles, those are Blood Clan relics. You'd best use them sparingly."
"Got it. You may go."
Audric bowed, transformed into a bat, and darted out.
In the waters near the island, Charles purposely slowed their pace, allowing the new crew to find their rhythm. This time, most of the crew were locals from Coral Island—some had even met Charles before—and they got along relatively easily.
「On the eighth day after leaving port, the Narwhal slowly approached its destination. The pitch-black surface of the sea finally began to change.」
"Captain, there's a ship ahead!"
"I see it," Charles said, his eyes peering through the glass at the distant vessel.
It clearly wasn't Sodoma; it was far too small—only half the Narwhal's size, and it was a wooden ship. Wooden ships were rare in the Abyss-Sea. In most places where trees could grow, the land had been cleared to plant edible crops.
As the vessels drew closer, more details emerged. Unlike the Narwhal's turbine drive, this wooden ship was powered by sails. There is barely any wind in the Abyss-Sea. Even if there were, relying solely on sails to navigate would be a death wish.
"Captain, what are our orders?"
"I'll take the helm. Go out and use the signal flags. Tell them the standard procedure—port-to-port."
This was standard nautical protocol to prevent a collision in the absence of communication.
"Okay!" Wearing his bracelet, Deep rushed out with the signal flag.
The young sailor waved the red flag swiftly. The wooden ship started to turn, as if it had understood the signal. The two ships brushed past each other. Charles eyed the aging wooden ship, a sliver of doubt crossing his mind. Is that ship heading to Sodoma too?
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! Danger struck in an instant. The wooden ship's left gunports snapped open, revealing pitch-black cannon muzzles aimed at the Narwhal.
His every muscle tensed, Charles reacted instantly, spinning the wheel to expose as little of the ship as possible to the incoming fire.
Despite his rapid response, several shells still slammed onto the deck. The expected explosions never occurred. The projectiles seemed soft, sticking wherever they landed and beginning to emit a black-purple smoke. Soon, the mist had enveloped the entire Narwhal.
"Lily! Counterattack!" At Charles's command, the rats on deck scurried to the gun turret. The 125mm barrels began to swing toward the wooden ship.
At the same time, shadowy figures drifted out from the black-purple fog. Their bodies were as thin as paper and black as night. They had no facial features on their heads, and they wielded weapons made of the same strange material.
As soon as the bizarre, paper-thin figures materialized, they bolted for the deck gun, hacking wildly at the rats. The barrels' movement was forced to a halt.
The crew fired at these things, but bullets passed straight through them, not slowing them down in the slightest.
With his brow furrowed, Charles didn't dare hesitate. He pulled out the mirror, ready to smear his blood on it. These tricks of the gods don't scare me. The wooden ship out there is the real key; I have to stop it.
But just as he bit into his finger, a sudden pain shot through his abdomen. Stunned, Charles looked down to see a bloody knife tip jutting out from his chest.
He acted on pure instinct, snatching his pistol and pointing it behind him. Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, he froze.
His attacker was Deep, the sailor chief. A bizarre grin spread across Deep's face as a chilling voice slithered from his lips. "Shoot... Go on, shoot..."
The next second, Charles sucked in a breath and, gritting his teeth against the searing pain, slammed on the clown mask.
The moment the mask was on, he fired. The bullet thudded into Deep, sending him crashing to the floor.
Clamping his internal muscles around the blade lodged inside him, Charles stumbled out of the cockpit.
Outside, the crew was fighting the paper-thin figures but were clearly losing. Only a giant-sized James could damage them; everyone else's attacks were useless.
Clutching his wound, Charles grabbed the bat mirror and hurled it skyward. "Blind man! Blast his damn ship for me!"
The bat snatched the mirror in mid-air and winged its way toward the wooden ship.
Just as the words left his mouth, a paper-thin figure appeared behind Charles, its gleaming weapon swinging for his head.
Charles sidestepped sharply, closing the distance and crashing right into the creature. His Black Blade flashed up and down, shredding the paper figure to tatters.
"Tch, is that all?" Knife in hand, Charles prepared to charge back into the fray when his body suddenly seized up. Blood began to well from his wound again.
He didn't dare make another rash move. His body was on the brink; one wrong step and he'd bleed out on the spot.
Charles quickly found another solution. He crouched and scooped a handful of steel nails from a nearby barrel.
He hurled them with precision, pinning the paper-thin figures to the deck. But this was only delaying the inevitable.
The paper-thin figures kept coming, seemingly without end, as Charles's consciousness began to blur.