Shrouded Seascape

We're almost there. Everything is going smoothly so far without any issues.

But I've been feeling really uneasy lately. Usually, when things are too calm, and the closer we are to the end, the more likely something is to go wrong.

My diary has been writing all sorts of nonsense, but I've been pretending that I can't see them. The earlier event has proven that the future it has predicted can change.

Since both good and bad predicted events can still be altered, then reading any of its predictions is a complete waste of time.

The crew is getting impatient and restless. They have been showing signs of irritability, which is understandable given that four ships' worth of people are being crammed into just two ships.

To address the situation, I've implemented a bed rotation system on the Narwhale. One bed is assigned to three different people, each taking an eight-hour shift. This way, at least everyone has a place to sleep.

Sleep is important. Without ample rest, the energy levels of the crew will plummet.

Once we reach our destination, the first thing to do is—

A sharp, intense headache struck Charles, causing him to drop his pen. The pen landed on the diary and splattered black dots that rapidly disappeared.

He wasn't sure what was going on but excruciating pain had been hitting him recently every time he was halfway through writing a diary entry.

The intense and unusual throbbing was unbearable. It felt as though something had coiled around his brain and was tightening around it.

At first, Charles suspected it to be the doing of the numerous tentacles that Anna had placed in his skull—the same one that she claimed would prevent any entity from taking over his mind.

However, the protection was no longer Charles' priority; he feared that the pain would kill him first at this rate.

"No, this won't do. Once we're back, I have to get Anna to remove those tentacles from my brain..." Charles muttered.

The intense headache lasted for about five minutes before gradually disappearing.

Under such circumstances, Charles was no longer in the mood to continue writing. He hastily wrapped up his entry for the day and headed toward his cabin door to start another round of ship patrol.

Given the current overcrowded state of the Narwhale, the patrol was almost redundant. If there were an enemy, they would be spotted long before they could climb aboard.

Receiving the respectful glances of the crew, Charles moved from one compartment to another. From time to time, he would also chat with them and assess their mental states.

His final stop was the bridge. As soon as he entered the bridge, the casual conversation between Dipp and Nico ceased immediately.

"Any issues?" Charles asked as he peered into the dark expanse beyond the window. The bustling deck below was crowded with people as they pointed into the shadows beyond.

"No issues, sir. Don't worry. We haven't run into any dangers the entire journey. I think it's because this is 005-3's territory, and nothing dares to come close here," Dipp answered.

"The closer we are to the most critical moments, the more we must remain vigilant. Keep your senses up," Charles instructed in a low voice.

"Understood."

"How long before we reach our destination?"

"Hmm… thirty minutes at best. Probably. Given the distance, some error is expected."

"In that case, I'm too lazy to head back. I'll stay here and wait with you guys."

The short duration seemed to fly by, and soon, the Narwhale and the airship following it slowed down to a halt.

"We've reached? But I don't see anything." Charles leaned forward and squinted as he gazed at the darkness.

Nico double-checked the navigation records and affirmed, "Yes, this is the marked spot."

Charles' brows knitted together as he rubbed his chin and entered a deep thought. Reaching out a hand, he pulled a lever on the control panel and switched it to the lowest setting.

A series of clicks sounded; the Narwhale's searchlights lit up instantly. The illumination she provided turned her into a beacon in the darkness.

The desired effect that Charles wanted was achieved. There was a hazy figure at 30 degrees starboard of the Narwhale.

When the figure came into view, everyone aboard the ship froze. Although it was motionless, the figure's sudden appearance caused everyone to subconsciously breathe a notch quieter.

"Ahhhh!" Suddenly, Charles clutched his head in pain again. The intense pain had returned and was gripping his mind like a vice.

The excruciating pain made him feel like ripping his own skull open to reach into his brain and tear out the tentacles embedded within it.

"Captain, are you okay?" An anxious Dipp rushed over and quickly helped Charles up.

"Captain, we are at the most critical moment; you need to hold on," Nico said, walking up to Charles and supporting him by the other arm.

The tension was increasing by the minute; the spider tattoo on his neck, which Charles had almost forgotten about, sent a burning pain throughout his body.

Though he was in extreme pain, Charles didn't want to let it interfere with the important issue at hand.

"Don't worry about me. Steer the ship closer. We'll start right away," Charles commanded.

As the distance between the Narwhale and the hazy figure narrowed, the pain Charles was experiencing intensified. However, he endured the pain with a grim determination.

"Everyone, come help! Bring out the things from the infirmary," Linda instructed as she hauled a wooden crate onto the deck.

"Captain, your condition doesn't seem like a disease. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do," Linda said. Then, she pulled out a human rib bone from the crate and started drawing something on the deck.

With the help of the others, a complex three-layered magic circle appeared on the deck in no time. In between, Linda would occasionally discuss the details with Bandages to refine the details of the magic circle.

"Hurry up! Stop taking your sweet time!" Charles yelled in agony as he clutched his head with one hand. By now, he was drenched in sweat as if he had just been pulled out of the sea.

Under the watchful gazes of everyone, three crew members walked to the center of the magic circle before seating themselves in a triangular formation, and cross-legged.

Receiving a sheet of paper each from Bandages, they began to chant in low, solemn voices. The sheets of paper were filled with malicious incantations.

As their chanting grew louder and more fervent, their expressions became increasingly manic.

Just when their chanting escalated into hysterical, meaningless shrieks, Charles suddenly rushed to the middle of the circle. He raised his chainsaw arm and made a powerful swing around him.

Psh! Psh! Psh!

The heads of the three screaming men rolled to the ground, and hot blood spurted from their arteries, raining down a crimson red on the onlookers.

The blood splattered on the ground, on Charles, and on the faces of the watching crew members.

However, no one bothered to wipe the blood away. Collectively, they, Charles included, turned their gaze toward the colossal black figure standing like a mountain in the distance.

One minute… Two minutes… Three minutes passed, but the figure remained motionless.

Disappointment suffused everyone's faces while sighs and murmurs of frustration filled the air.

Still clutching his head in pain, Charles stumbled out of the blood-soaked magic array. "Don't… give up. We continue!"