Chapter 80. Marshland
Jan 2, 9th Year of Crossing Over
We have been at sea for more than twenty days now. The target island for exploration is slightly further. Resources are running low on the Narwhale.
If the island that houses 1002 becomes a new island, resupplying there would be significantly easier.
When we set sail, I deliberately went close to that island to have a glance. Judging by the wreckage on the shoreline, it seems like the battle between Elizabeth and 1002 hasn't been smooth. Developing the island won't be easy.
It's a given, after all. 1002's peculiar power isn't that easy to deal with. I hope everything goes well for them.
Kord has also set sail. Regardless, everything is progressing in a positive direction. I wonder where's Anna now... perhaps she...
After the ink had dried up, Charles closed his diary and headed toward the deck to start his daily inspection of the ship.
Just as he was about to push the galley door open, an excited Dipp rushed past him with a fishing rod in his hand. A creature that resembled a jellyfish hung from the hook.
"Frey! Look! I've caught a crystal jellyfish! Do you know how to make soup out of it?" Dipp called out.
A fury growl sounded from the galley as Chef Frey roared, "Get lost! Stop reeling in some random creatures on board. If you want to cook something out of them, do it yourself! I'm not doing it!"
Charles entered the kitchen and walked past the two of them. He inspected the inside to make sure there were no abnormalities.
"Frey, weevils have started to infest the salty crackers. Watch out." Charles' words interrupted the conversation between the two crew members.
Frey hurriedly ran over to Charles and assured him that he would fix the situation soon. He also specially made it clear to Charles that the infested crackers were meant for the sailors and that the captain's food would be absolutely fine.
"What do you mean, for the sailors? Aren't sailors human too?" Dipp started an argument with Frey once more over the welfare of his subordinates.
Charles didn't intervene. Compared to the tense and fearful atmosphere that shrouded the crew when they had first entered the unchartered waters, they now had the mood to quarrel over mundane matters. Indeed, humans had a remarkable capacity to adapt.
Exiting the galley, Charles made his way to the other compartments in the ship. Patrolling the ship wasn't merely to inspect if any unwanted creatures had climbed aboard, he also had to examine all other factors that could possibly affect their journey. Be it their food supply, fuel resources, or the mental states of the crew, a single gap in any of them could turn the ship into a floating coffin, and death would claim all lives on board.
Charles meticulously inspected each area—deck, cockpit, turbine chamber, crew quarters, kitchen, cargo hold, and water tank. Other captains might have different rules, but on his ship, Charles preferred to do the inspections himself. Details determine success or failure, and his meticulousness was the trait that had kept him alive at sea for so long. These tasks, simple and tedious yet crucial, made up the bulk of a captain's duties.
"Captain! There's an island!" Charles froze momentarily in surprise while he was doing the stocktake on their fuel supplies. According to his calculations, they should still be three days away from their destination.
He hurriedly rushed to the deck, and his eyes picked up the faint silhouette of an island in the distance under the illumination of the Narwhale's searchlights.
Unlike the past few islands they had encountered, this island was "tall" in the sense that it resembled a flat-topped mountain more than an island. Its surrounding rock walls were bare and devoid of any vegetation. They couldn't get a good look at the flat summit either because of its imposing height.
Looking up at the ominous landmass ahead, Charles gestured for the sailors to drop the anchor. He then turned to his vampire sailor and instructed, "Audric, fly up there and take a look."
Audric nodded in affirmation before morphing into a bat and soaring into the air.
While Charles was waiting for Audric to return, Dipp approached him with a puzzled expression.
"Captain, the anchor's not reaching the seabed," Dipp reported.
"But we are right beside the island. How is that possible?"
Following Charles' lead, they arrived before the anchor machine and confirmed that the entire chain had been lowered into the abyss.
The Narwhale's anchor chain measured over a hundred meters, and it couldn't even reach the seabed.
What exactly is the structure of this island? A vertical telegraph pole?
After pondering for a brief moment, Charles decided and said, "Then don't anchor. When we go ashore later, Frey and the sailors can stay on the ship."
Audric returned soon but with an odd expression.
"Captain, it's a marsh up there."
"A marsh?" Charles questioned. Audric's words caught Charles by surprise. He had never expected a marsh to be on top of the island. "Regardless, let's go take a look. Perhaps, this island is a resupply point for 'King'."
Under the assistance of the flying Audric, a rope ladder was quickly laid against the rock wall. Charles and his party of sailors carefully scaled the wall and ascended to the summit. It was indeed as per Audric's words— a marshland sat upon the top of the island.
This marsh differed from those found in forests. There were no trees, flowers, or any sign of life. Only damp soil, stale water, and a thick layer of fog greeted them. There were, however, rocks of various sizes scattered within the sludge.
They threw some fish meat into the mud, but there were no signs of any living creatures that surface to feed on it.
Charles carefully walked toward the sludge and realized that it wasn't deep. The deepest part reached only to his thighs. Pressing his right foot down, he discovered that the ground was solid underneath the mud.
"Bro, don't you think this place resembles a hot pot? Look, those stones are just like meatballs floating in the broth!"
Charles ignored Richard's ridicule about the place. He scooped up a handful of the muddy water and placed it close to his nose to take a sniff. The distinctive scent of the sea hit him first before a stench of decay assaulted his nostrils.
The water in this marsh was just seawater with no value for use.
Charles gestured to his crew to follow him. Everyone's brows were pressed together. No human liked filth. Walking through the sludge felt like stepping into a sewage pit.
Lily's party of brown mice had all turned as black as coal nuggets the moment they stepped into the muddy water. Witnessing this, Lily clung onto Charles' neck tightly, refusing to let even a speck of black stain her white fur.
Despite his enhanced night vision, the thick layer of white fog obscured Charles' line of sight. He could barely see anything in this place.
The environment reminded him of the first island they had explored. He was determined not to let history repeat itself. In periodic intervals, Charles would do a headcount of his party and cross-check with the number written on his armband. This was to ensure that no one had mysteriously appeared or vanished.
The torches in their hands pushed back against the fog like a dragon's flames as they trudged toward the island's center.
The murky water held an unnatural chill. They had walked for barely half an hour, but Charles could hardly feel his toes by then.
Not willing to take any risks, Charles instructed his crew members to find rocks to stand on. They would resume their journey after everyone could feel their toes once more.
With an opportunity for a brief respite, the crew members stuffed their mouths with food. Even if they weren't hungry, they needed to eat to fuel themselves with energy.
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