Chapter 833
The thick, fog-like darkness was slowly dissolving.
Miguel, leaning against the starboard deck railing, kept his eyes fixed on the dim sea.
The seasickness that had plagued him right after departure had vanished without a trace. Whether it was due to the tension and fear or the unnaturally calm waters, he couldn’t tell—and it didn’t matter.
Swoosh...
What still lingered were the ominous blue glimmers flickering beyond the darkness, along with those eerie cries blaring like war horns.
Fortunately, they hadn’t turned the ship in that direction.
Even so, Miguel had spent the entire night wide awake, bracing himself for a possible attack.
With his personality, if this weren’t a doldrums, he might’ve gone after them... damn it. This is exactly why you need to know your limits.
Miguel sighed again.
The endless sea, sunk in a dull, oppressive darkness, stirred in him a kind of fear he had never known before. With Ian having put him in charge, he couldn’t simply retreat inside.
It left him more than enough time to dwell on and regret past decisions, and to think of the one he had left behind in the North—the one he cherished like his life.
And not knowing any of this, she’s probably envying me back at the temple right about now.
A faint, dry chuckle escaped him, and his gaze dropped to the right. Something had nudged his foot.
It was Lily, fast asleep where she had curled up beneath the railing.
"You’ll catch a cold sleeping out here."
Clicking his tongue, Miguel bent down and draped the hooded cloak back over her.
She had stubbornly refused to go inside, staying by his side until exhaustion claimed her a couple of hours ago. After staring into the darkness with those eerily glinting eyes the whole time, it was no wonder she was exhausted.
"Hey, Captain."
A rough voice brushed past Miguel’s ear just then.
It was Terua, the Crimson Coral Reef’s first mate—a barbarian from the archipelago, his face covered in tattoo-like markings.
"Captain. The wind’s picking up."
Miguel frowned slightly and glanced up at the main mast. He couldn’t feel any wind at all. As expected, the square sail still hung limp and lifeless.
"Captain. Hey, Captain."
However, Terua’s low voice continued.
Miguel’s gaze drifted downward.
At the center of the deck, beside the thick main mast, he spotted a strange canopy draped with fluttering strips of cloth. It seemed to serve as a cover for a chair piled high with furs.
"The wind’s coming. Open your eyes."
Standing beside it, Terua was nudging the scrawny captain sprawled deep in the chair.
At last, the Kurdish captain, Yalo, stirred and pushed himself upright.
"Yawp, what wind?" He stretched lazily, yawning as his thin, bracelet-laden arms rose overhead.
Miguel’s eye twitched at the sight.
While he’d spent the night taut with tension, this slippery bastard had apparently slept through it all without a care.
"The wind. Waves will follow soon."
Only then did Yalo get to his feet at Terua’s words, idly glancing around as he wrapped the long, trailing sleeves of his patchwork clothes around his neck.
"Hmm, I see."
Nodding to himself, he walked toward the railing where Miguel stood. He slowly raised both arms, the gold ornaments clinking together, then drew a deep breath.
"Ah, yes. You’re right..."
At last, he stopped before the railing, let out a long breath, and slowly lowered his arms before turning to Miguel, idly stroking his thick, curly beard.
Despite the coiling tension, Miguel met his gaze directly, making no effort to hide the irritation written plainly across his face. To him, the old man looked every bit like a desert-born heretic.
"Fortunately, it seems the doldrums don’t stretch all the way to the archipelago, Priest," Yalo said casually as he stepped closer, paying no mind at all to Miguel’s expression.
"That’s good to hear," Miguel answered flatly, though his reaction wasn’t driven by his distaste for the man alone.
If what Terua said was true, then the sea would soon turn rough again—and with it, that hellish seasickness would return.
"I suspected it wouldn’t be a peaceful night, yet it seems the heavens are watching over us. Or perhaps it is the demigod’s protection."
Yalo came to a stop beside him, a knowing smile tugging at his wrinkled, bearded face.
Miguel’s eyes narrowed further. It wasn’t something a man who had just been sleeping so soundly should be saying.
"Of course, it’s still too early to let our guard down. Especially—"
Cutting him off mid-sentence, Miguel asked, "How much farther to the archipelago?"
His mind was already dulled with exhaustion; he had no desire to entertain a long conversation with the sly man. Besides, it seemed likely Sanford hadn’t disclosed everything about the job, and Miguel had no intention of getting entangled as an accomplice.
Yalo paused, then let out a low, amused chuckle. "Oh, so you truly spent the whole night watching this side, didn’t you?"
As Miguel tilted his head slightly, Yalo turned away and leaned against the railing, raising an arm to gesture ahead. "Why don’t you take a look over there, Priest?"
Though frowning, Miguel complied and turned.
The dim deck stretched out before him, littered with sprawled beastfolk, fairies, and exhausted rowers.
Pointing past the opposite railing with a ring-laden, bony hand, Yalo continued, "We had to circle around a bit... but in any case, we’ve already entered the waters of the archipelago...."
Only then did Miguel’s eyes widen.
Rising slightly onto his toes, he peered past the railing into the faint darkness beyond.
"Those are rocky islands?" he murmured, walking toward the center of the deck to get a clearer look at the shadowy outlines rising in the distance.
"That’s right. They say that in ancient times, there were far more islands here, and much larger ones at that."
Yalo naturally fell into step beside him, lowering his voice as he continued, "What you see now are merely the remnants—what remained after the tidal waves stirred up by an ancient evil god swept everything away and dragged them beneath the sea."
A low chuckle followed, as though he knew the true reason they were headed for the archipelago.
Without stopping, Miguel deliberately ignored him, turning his attention toward the front. Not far ahead, the smuggling ships leading the way blocked much of the view.
"Give it a few more hours, and you’ll be able to see the archipelago clearly from here as well," Yalo added, as if reading his thoughts.
Miguel finally stopped and turned back toward him. "If we’ve entered the archipelago waters and left the doldrums, can we stop rowing soon?"
"Of course, Priest." Yalo stopped as well, that same wrinkled smile lingering at the corners of his mouth.
Then he brought his hands together before his chest and dipped his head slightly. "From here on, leave the rest to us. You’ve already done more than enough..."
"Alright." Nodding, Miguel turned and walked past Yalo without another word, not forgetting to glance over at Lily, still lying in the corner of the deck.
"Terua. Wake the rowers. And get ready to raise the black flag."
"Understood."
At Yalo’s command, the first mate, who had been standing beside the chair, turned, his gaze slowly raking over Miguel from head to toe as if sizing him up.
Figures. I must look like a prize to him.
Snorting inwardly, Miguel made his way toward the stairs leading below deck. His abdomen tightened on its own, knowing full well what awaited him wasn’t something he was eager to face.
"Grrk... rrgh!"
"Damn... can’t!"
"Kuhh..."
The stench of sweat mixed with a beastly odor and the sound of ragged breathing filled the air. Beastfolk and fairies sat in pairs or trios, pulling at the oars in strained rhythm.
It hadn’t been long since their shift change, but the fatigue from the previous rotation clearly hadn’t worn off yet.
Taking in the dim interior, Miguel stepped down the last stair and called out, "Alright, that’s enough! Everyone, stop! We’ve passed the doldrums!"
As if waiting for it, the fairies let go of their oars and slumped over.
"Ha... shit."
"Phew... phew...."
Curses and heavy breathing filled the space. The beastfolk, pushing their oars back in, also released their grips one by one, growling faintly as they sucked in air, their sweat-soaked fur glistening.
Unlike the fairies, though, none of them cursed. If anything, they looked almost relieved.
"You’ve all done well. Head up, get some food in you, and rest. Looks like we still have some time before we reach the archipelago," Miguel added, looking over them.
He smacked his lips awkwardly, feeling discomfort, embarrassment, and guilt.
If I’d known how to handle the sacred flame, I might’ve been able to help.
Clank, clatter—
From further inside, two beastfolk and a fairy rose from their seats. Turning, they staggered into the central passage, scanning the surroundings as they went.
"Take it slow getting up..."
"Grab your gear... and follow."
They spoke quietly, even gesturing to the others to move, their manner far more natural and practiced than Miguel’s.
It was only to be expected.
They were Diana, acting head of the House of Erenos, along with Nehat and Palmer, the lieutenants of the beastfolk chieftain.
They were also the ones who had made Miguel’s already miserable seasickness even worse.
After leaving them in charge for barely half a day, they had nearly come to blows on the deck.
Recalling the reason for their fight, Miguel clicked his tongue again.
Honestly, when you think about it, Brother is completely out of his mind too...
From his perspective, the fight had been more than justified. It was almost a miracle it hadn’t escalated into a full-on bloodbath.
Still, the moment Miguel intervened, they stopped immediately, even accepting the punishment of rowing together without protest.
"Uh, good work out there...."
Even so, Miguel had spent the entire night wide awake, bracing for a possible attack.
As Miguel forced an awkward smile, Diana, who had been wiping the sweat from her chin with the back of her hand, gave a small nod in response.
"Are you alright? You don’t look well," said Palmer, who had been following Diana. He adjusted the leather eyepatch covering one eye with a hand clad in relic-grade plate armor.
Miguel let his gaze drift over the gold-engraved patterns on the back of the gauntlet before giving a small shrug.
"I didn’t do any rowing, so I’m fine. That might change once the waves pick up again, though."
"Then you should go get some rest before that happens. We’ll take over for the time being," Palmer added as he came to a stop beside Diana.
Diana, her brows slightly furrowed, didn’t even bother to acknowledge him.
Miguel nearly nodded without thinking, only to catch himself and click his tongue.
"I appreciate the concern, but...."
His gaze shifted unconsciously, then dropped at once. He had locked eyes with Nehat, who had just arrived.
A thick, jagged scar ran across her waist, and a heavy plate cuirass engraved with a golden wing pattern filled Miguel’s view.
As if reading his thoughts, Palmer said, "Don’t worry. That kind of problem won’t happen again."
Diana let out a quiet sigh and gave a small nod, while Nehat added, "Making a spectacle once was more than enough, Priest."
Miguel hesitated, glancing past their shoulders.
The beastfolk and fairies, now freed from rowing, were slowly getting to their feet. They didn’t look particularly friendly with one another, but at the very least, they didn’t seem to have the energy to fight.
"I hate to say this." Smacking his lips, Miguel looked back at the three of them. "But if you cause trouble like that again, I’ll have no choice but to report it to the demigod. Don’t make me a snitch."
"Understood," Palmer answered, while Nehat and Diana dipped their heads slightly. Even then, they didn’t forget to cast each other a brief, cold glance.
"If that’s settled..." Feigning ignorance, Miguel nodded to himself and turned, heading back up the stairs.
His body felt heavy as lead.
After lifting Lily and carrying her into the cabin, he collapsed onto the stiff cot and closed his eyes.
"Priest. Priest."
Palmer’s voice came almost immediately, accompanied by a firm shake of his shoulder.
"Wake up, Priest."
Without even opening his eyes, Miguel frowned. "Don’t tell me... you’re fighting again already? I just lay down...."
"No. And you’ve been asleep for nearly half a day, Priest."
"What?" Miguel’s eyes snapped open at that, disbelief written all over his face.
Looking down at him with his lone eye, Palmer added, "You should come out. We’ve got another problem."