Our Family Has Fallen

Although there was no stable formation, for the sake of operational safety, the large ships were separated by hundreds of yards, while the smaller boats were scattered.

And among this fleet, the strongest ship was not in the lead position, but rather at the very end.

And the captain of this ship was none other than Redbeard.

Redbeard lived up to his name, with a thick and conspicuous red beard that needed to be braided to keep it from completely covering his mouth, yet, middle-aged as he was, his hair had mostly fallen out, only a captain’s hat covering his head.

His face had narrow eyes and a wide nose, resembling a lion or tiger, making him look even more fierce. His many years of sailing as a pirate made him appear much older, with dark tanned skin.

His build was not tall, but very sturdy, which was more suitable for life at sea since space on a ship is quite limited.

Some said he was discriminated against because of his Barbarian Tribes’ lineage, which is why he went to sea to become a pirate. Redbeard neither confirmed nor denied this.

At sea, no one cares about your lineage; the only certain thing is that to reach his level, he could not be an ordinary person.

His capability to rally people was evident from the fleet; it must be known that apart from the six main ships, the rest were crew he recruited in a short time.

But for some reason, the closer the fleet got to Hamlet, the more unease Redbeard felt.

Everyone knew of Hamlet’s past glory, but why had there been no movement until now?

Was he reminded of past events? Or recalled the ship that disappeared near Hamlet? Too many strange things surrounded Hamlet...

Looking at the nautical chart on the table, he suddenly felt a bit sentimental. Could it be that he was truly getting old?

And it was at this moment a crew member came up to report.

"Captain, we have entered a fog, and we have lost contact with the other ships."

These words instantly intensified Redbeard’s unease. He hurriedly went out onto the deck.

The course and timing were calculated, deliberately choosing nighttime.

Because only at night could they safeguard their tracks, reduce the time those guys had to react, and launch an attack to seize the docks immediately, blocking their escape routes.

If you’ve experienced shore raids as pirates, often when they rush in, they’d find people still sleeping in their beds when the risk is lowest.

According to the plan, it was indeed night now, with the sky and sea pitch-black.

Yet, at sea, messages were mainly conveyed via semaphore, using torches at night, but the issue now was their isolation.

The suddenly appearing thick fog completely obscured visibility; even the light from the torches couldn’t fully illuminate a person within three yards, let alone hundreds of yards away.

And trying to navigate by the stars was now impossible; looking up, nothing was visible as if all was consumed, isolating the entire ship from reality.

Compared to storms or tsunamis that provide tangible sensations, thick fog is absolutely one of the most eerie conditions at sea.

Among pirates, there’s a classic story where a ship lost its course in the fog, and three days later, when the fog cleared, it was only found half a day’s sail from its departure point.

When the sailing log was checked, it recorded that they sailed at full speed for three days, yet saw nothing else, losing all reference points, feeling abandoned by the world, as if sailing on a course to hell.

All of them eventually broke down, leading to fighting, jumping overboard, and suicide, with not a single survivor.

However, investigations revealed that after the ship departed, it traveled a while without passing through the fog and then attempted to return.

This decision caused them to lose direction, ending up wandering within the fog without external attacks, leading to an internal breakdown.

That’s why those making a living at sea would avoid fog, preferring to take longer routes.

Among older pirates, there’s even a saying.

It’s better to plunge into a storm than into the fog.

Because storms have a chance of escape through skill, and even if death comes, it’s clear and understood.

But entering the fog, you better pray it dissipates quickly, or you haven’t veered off course.

Unfortunately, sometimes avoidance isn’t a choice; the night gives them a black veil, also providing the fog’s cover.

Once inside, they were already lost.

"How could this happen? Who was on watch?"

"It wasn’t that we entered, but rather the fog blew in, and it came too quickly, during the night; by the time the watch reacted, it was already like this."

"Damn it!"

Redbeard cursed several times but was helpless in the matter, even fearing to alter the course lightly, as by navigation, they should have soon reached Hamlet.

Everything would work out...

As for the other ships? They were all veterans; there shouldn’t be any issues, was the only thought he could muster.

"Fog is actually good; Hamlet will react even slower. By then, we’ll charge in and raid fiercely; there are countless gold coins, fair-skinned women, and..."

Sometimes confidence matters more than anything; seeing the pirates on deck about to fall into unease, Redbeard immediately shouted, using that kind of hyperbole every leader must master.