Chapter 241: Change
There seemed to be a hint of relief in Kalytha's glazed eyes. The grief of losing both her husband and son at the same time had been too much for her to withstand, and she had decided to follow them.
Margaret walked over to Kalytha and sobbed all the way as she pulled her mother into an embrace. She wailed loudly; her trembling voice evidenced her unspeakable grief.
Having lost all of her family members, Margaret felt as though she had become all alone in this world. Margaret cried for a long time until her gaze fell on the revolver in her mother's hand.
She was the famous princess of Whereto; her father and brother resolved all of her problems for her, but now, she no longer had anyone to rely on.
Margaret reached out for the revolver with a quivering hand; she raised it slowly, pointing it at her temple just as her father and brother's faces flashed before her eyes.
"Oh, you actually brought me coffee? My daughter is such a good girl."
"Let's go! Don't tell anyone; we're going outside to play."
"I want you to remember this, my dear sister. I'm always on your side."
"If you continue such actions, don't blame me for sending someone to end that greedy lunatic!"
"I might as well tie him up in a room and let you play with him until you've gotten tired of him."
"Ah, my precious daughter. I heard from Jack that you have been doing exceptionally well at sea these past days."
"That's my sister. No Cavendish is a coward!"
Jack's last sentence to her echoed like a drum in her mind. Margaret put down the revolver in her hand, and the despair, as well as the grief in her eyes, slowly vanished.
She lay her mother down gently and lifted her skirt. A thirty-centimeter-long sheathed dagger was tied to her fair thigh.
Shwing!
The dagger was unsheathed, and the circular blue pattern on the blade proved that the dagger was forged using special ingredients rather than just ordinary steel.
Without an ounce of hesitation, Margaret lifted the dagger in her hand and slashed her own face.
A grotesque noise echoed, and a line of blood was carved from Margaret's right eyebrow to the left corner of her lips. Her stunning visage could no longer be seen, and her looks had become capable of instilling fear in just about anyone.
Blood dripped down incessantly from the wound on her face, and the droplets fell on her skirt, blossoming into eerie, crimson flowers.
Margaret's face throbbed in extreme pain, but the physical pain couldn't be compared to her tumultuous emotions, as well as the grief and despair brewing in her heart. Margaret's eyes were filled with extreme hatred.
"No Cavendish is a coward, and I will never use death as a means of escape! I'll take back everything the Cavendish has lost!" she declared solemnly.
***
"Something has climbed aboard! All crew assemble on deck!"
The sleeping Weister was awakened by the piercing cry. He was about to climb down the hammock when a cold hand dragged him down.
The hand belonged to Audric. The vampire sailor's face was solemn as he said, "Hurry up and go on deck. You're going to get shot if the Captain mistakes you as a creature from the sea."
Weister hurriedly ran toward the deck, and he wasn't alone. Hurried footsteps reverberated throughout the narrow corridor as the crew members gathered.
Upon reaching the deck, Weister was astonished to see the terrifying Governor holding a strange-looking revolver in his hand. The Governor was looking out at the sea, seemingly wary of something.
"State your names and positions! I'll go first! Charles. Position: Captain. Duty: Safe transportation and administrative management of the vessel. Ensures the utmost safety of the ship and crew's lives and property. Decisively and prudently handles all affairs, including emergencies!"
A tense atmosphere blanketed the deck even before Charles' voice could finish echoing.
"Bandages. Position:... First Mate. Duty: To assist the Captain in organizing work plans... and responsible for compiling... the cargo loading schedule. Helmsman covering the... 1200 to 2400 shift!"
"Feuerbach. Position: Second Mate. Duty: Guide sailors in the correct use and maintenance of nautical instruments. Responsible for the record-keeping of maintenance records and error logs. Helmsman covering the 0000 to 1200 shift!"
Starting from Charles, the crew members reported their names and positions.
Soon, it was Weister's turn to state his name and position. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come out of his throat. A sailor couldn't possibly forget their name and positions, but Weister's mind went white beneath the pressure and nervousness.
An audible click echoed throughout the crowd as the Captain's revolver pointed at Weister. Weister gulped unconsciously, and his bladder tensed up from the fear.
A cold chill ran down Weister's spine as his gaze met the Captain's cold and ruthless eyes.
With adrenaline pumping through his veins, Weister took a deep breath and shouted, "Weister! Position: O.S! Responsible for cleaning the deck and the routine maintenance of anchors, ropes, and equipment!"
The Captain's gaze turned to someone else, eliciting a sigh of relief from Weister. In the end, no creature from the sea had somehow managed to become a part of the crew. However, it meant that the creature had entered the cabins.
"Load your weapons. The Narwhale told me that three creatures had climbed aboard. Take it slow; clear one cabin at a time," the Captain declared.
Weister got himself a gun, but Feuerbach snatched his gun away after seeing him fiddling with it. Feuerbach replaced Weister's gun with a dagger he had been using to scrape off barnacles.
"I don't think you should hold a gun. You look too nervous to use one, and I'm afraid you'll hit your fellow crew rather than the enemies," Feuerbach explained.
Meanwhile, Charles said once more, "Remember, three creatures had climbed aboard. Every single one of them has to be eliminated, and I reckon they possess a special ability that allows them to avoid the Narwhale's detection."
Weister became nervous at the Captain's words. His heart beat madly against his chest. It was his first time in a situation like this. Fortunately, the crew members were around, and under the Captain's lead, they cleared cabins one at a time.
The group soon reached the fuel storage, and Weister gasped at the scene inside of it. A pitch-black jelly-like creature was squirming on a barrel filled with fuel.
"Hold your fire! We're in the fuel storage."
Before Weister could react, a figure dashed past him; the Captain rushed over to the creature with a black dagger in hand.
The creature awakened and let out a strange gurgling noise. It squirmed as it turned around, but it was greeted by a streak of cold light. Its bizarre body was torn open, but it seemed unscathed as it opened its big mouth to attack.
The other crew members came to their senses and ran toward the creature with cold weapons in hand. Fortunately, the creature didn't seem to possess much intelligence, and the crew members made quick work of it, cutting it up into dozens of pieces.
It was still squirming, seemingly alive, but it was no longer a danger to the crew.
Weister's eyes shone with relief and delight at the scene that had just unfolded before him. The skirmish just now was thrilling, and it filled him up with excitement.
Just then, something wet and sticky suddenly landed on his nape. Weister immediately went pallid, and he turned around slowly to find absolutely nothing behind him.
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