CHAPTER 78: CHAPTER78-THE SAILOR ADRIFT AT SEA

"Oh, do tell me more," Owen responded, not wanting to dampen the spirit, playing the role of a straight man in their banter.

"Ahem," Berkeley cleared his throat, "The hull of the ship is forged from a rare metal known as ’crimson gold copper.’ This metal naturally possesses two properties. When incorporated into a weapon, even in small amounts, it can significantly enhance the weapon’s toughness and strength. And this ship, it’s largely composed of crimson gold copper."

"Therefore, the defense level of the Delicate Miniature Ship is extremely high. It fears no attack from a master-tier. Even a full-force strike from a grandmaster-tier would hardly make it flinch."

"That powerful?" Erin chimed in, playing along enthusiastically.

Berkeley, feeling quite pleased, continued with a bit of affectation, "That’s not all there is."

"There’s more?" Erin asked, her face brimming with curiosity.

Berkeley, even more gratified, replied with a smile, "The ship’s sails are made from a precious material known as ’phoenix feather.’ These feathers can increase the speed of the ship by three to five times."

Erin, now even more excited, clutched her fists to her chest and asked, "Is there anything else?"

"We must mention the compass then. It’s called the milescompass. Simply input our desired destination, and the milescompass will guide us there."

"That amazing? What else?"

"Uh..." Berkeley’s expression turned awkward.

That should be enough, he thought.

How much more could a young girl possibly want to delve into the details?

Owen, finding the situation amusing, shook his head slightly and said, "Alright, let’s prepare some food. We might need to stay on the ship for a few days."

"Right," everyone responded.

...

Gosa Waters stretched boundlessly, its azure waves shimmering with silver glints under the sun’s embrace.

On the distant horizon, clusters of white clouds floated like cotton sheep, merging seamlessly with the blue sky, creating a vision akin to a celestial realm.

The sea’s surface was a tumult of surging waves and rolling breakers, as if the ocean itself was recounting endless tales to the travelers.

Owen stood on the deck, his demeanor calm and collected.

The scenery of Gosa Waters was breathtaking, yet even such splendor could become monotonous with prolonged viewing.

Seven days had passed.

The Delicate Miniature Ship had been sailing tirelessly for a week, now gradually nearing its destination.

Berkeley emerged from the cabin and approached Owen, saying, "Sir, we’re about a day’s journey from Heartstealer Island. We need to start preparing early."

With that, he handed a scroll to Owen.

Owen unfurled the scroll, which detailed the novice magic spell, the Hydrophobic Spell. This spell had no other purpose but to repel water simply.

Closing the scroll, Owen nodded, "I understand."

"What are you pondering, sir?" Berkeley asked, noticing the deep contemplation on Owen’s face.

Owen let out a long sigh: "Neither of us have heard of the Heart of the Ocean, not even Finn. Don’t you find that strange? Such an artifact surfacing should be known worldwide."

"Is that so," Berkeley replied, his expression easing. "Are you afraid we’ve been misled, sir?"

"Yes."

A smile spread across Berkeley’s face as he gazed into the distance, "You needn’t worry, sir. There’s a good chance this information is accurate."

"Why do you think so?"

"Think about it, sir. If you knew of a secret realm opening, offering untold treasures, would you share that information with others?"

"No, I wouldn’t."

Berkeley clapped his hands and spread them wide, "Exactly. The news of the Heart of the Ocean’s emergence is likely being suppressed by many. The Laine Kingdom is inland, so it’s normal for them to be unaware of such news."

Owen looked at Berkeley, a smile appearing on his face.

Berkeley was thinking too simply, but Owen decided not to voice his deeper concerns, not wanting to burden those around him with his worries.

Berkeley, believing he had alleviated Owen’s concerns, wore an even brighter smile on his face.

"Eh, look over there, is that a person?" Owen suddenly pointed towards the sea, his eyes narrowing into slits.

Berkeley rubbed his eyes and then exclaimed in surprise, "Yes, it really is a person! We’re deep into the middle layer of Gosa Waters, and there’s someone adrift in the sea."

The person in the water seemed to have spotted Owen and Berkeley too, frantically waving at them.

Berkeley looked at Owen with a solemn expression, "Sir, should we save them or not?"

Rescuing someone at sea was often considered a foolish act.

Many sea monsters were known to disguise themselves as drowning sailors to exploit the sympathy of the crew.

Once these creatures were brought aboard, they would reveal their true nature and kill the sailors.

Such stories were all too common.

Therefore, sailors were usually indifferent and unsympathetic, with a norm of not saving lives at sea.

Owen, curious to learn more, said, "Pull them up. I want to know what happened ahead."

"Yes." At Owen’s command, Berkeley reluctantly proceeded with the task.

A rope was thrown down from the ship.

The stranded sailor grasped it, and Berkeley hauled him up.

The rescued sailor collapsed on the deck, gasping heavily: "Huff--huff--thank you--thank you--if not--for you--"

Berkeley found the sight distressing: "Wait a bit before you speak."

Owen gave Berkeley a meaningful look.

Understanding, Berkeley went to prepare some fresh water and food.

"What’s your story?" Owen crouched beside the rescued sailor.

Like someone in a trance, the sailor muttered, "From the Deepsea Trade Association."

"The Deepsea Trade Association?" Owen pondered briefly, finding no recollection of it. "What happened out there?"

By this time, the sailor had already started to snore, his brows deeply furrowed.

Clearly, his ordeal at sea had drained all his strength.

Owen’s hand glowed faintly with arcanergy, intending to awaken the sailor, but after a moment’s thought, the energy dissipated.

Berkeley arrived shortly after, noticing the sailor’s deep slumber.

He shook the man gently, but the sailor merely stirred, snuggling into a more comfortable position without waking.

"Let it be," Owen said. "Let him sleep. We’ll ask him once he’s regained his strength."

Above, the stars twinkled with faint light, scattered across the dark tapestry of the sky, like countless gems strewn across the cosmos.

The moon hung high above the sea, casting a silvery glow that rendered the entire oceanic expanse dreamlike and surreal.

Under the moonlight, the waves took on a faint blue sheen, shimmering gently in the night.

The surf softly lapped against the shore, producing a series of pleasant sounds, as if the sea were performing a beautiful nocturnal symphony.

Occasionally, seagulls skimmed over the water’s surface, their sharp cries piercing the tranquility of the night.

A pungent smell of blood invaded Owen’s nostrils. His nose twitched, and he opened his eyes.

Rising to his feet, he gazed into the distance where a battered ship creaked under the assault of the waves.

Floating nearby were barrels and planks, and, more ominously... corpses.

Many birds and beasts perched on these bodies, watchfully scanning their surroundings before casually snatching pieces of flesh from the remains.

The sea around the ship was a ghastly red, the crew’s blood not yet fully diffused into the water.

The scene of bloodshed, wreckage, and violence only served to heighten the chilling atmosphere.

Owen licked his lips, his thoughts drifting to the sailor they had found adrift.

Footsteps sounded behind him.

They were light, neither belonging to Erin, Finn, nor Berkeley.

Owen remained motionless, yet the arcanergy within him began to stir.

His muscles tensed, ready to unleash a thunderous strike at a moment’s notice.

"There’s no need to be tense," the sailor approached Owen, his eyes filled with deep pain as he observed the grim scene before them, yet his tone remained calm.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Morton Sebastin from the Deepsea Trade Association. You can call me Morton. Thank you, sir, for rescuing me from peril."

"I was adrift at sea, thinking I’d never see the sun again."

Owen raised an eyebrow slightly, "I’m Owen. Tell me, what happened?"

Morton ran his fingers through his hair, which hung past his ears, and spoke gravely, "I should’ve woken up earlier to advise you to change your course."

He was visibly upset and didn’t address Owen’s question directly.

"What happened?" Owen asked again, his expression cool.

Morton glanced at Owen and sighed, "We were attacked by sea monsters. They assaulted our ship."

"Why would they attack your ship?" Owen probed further.

"Our ship was loaded with goods. They’re like pirates, isn’t it common for them to plunder merchant ships?"

"As far as I know, merchant ships don’t travel this sea route," Owen’s eyes twinkled.

He had no knowledge of merchant sea routes; he was merely bluffing.

Morton’s expression briefly stiffened, then quickly returned to normal, "Mr. Owen doesn’t seem to be in maritime business, yet you’re quite informed about these routes?"

Owen forced a smile, though it was somewhat icy, "Actually, I don’t know anything about the routes. But there’s one thing I do know. I am your savior, and you should tell me everything you know without reservation."

"Is this moral coercion?" Morton asked.

Owen’s smile grew wider, his eyes shadowed, "You could say that. You might even say I’m threatening you."

"Mr. Owen," Morton’s voice faltered, "I thought you were a good man."