Shrouded Seascape

Chapter 108. Boarding the Ship

A droplet of inky water with a leech within landed on the Third Engineer of the Narwhale. He stumbled to the floor and reached out a desperate hand toward Charles. However, it was a fruitless struggle as his body rapidly disintegrated into a black, viscous liquid.

The horrifying sight sent a chill down everyone's spine. Driven by primal survival instincts, the humans dashed into the nearby market to take cover. Almost simultaneously, the dark rain finally landed.

Everything outside was covered in a layer of black. The writhing leeches crawled across the streets. Charles knew that they couldn't wait here for long. The leeches multiplied at a rate beyond their imaginations. They had to leave this cursed place as soon as possible.

Charles scanned the interior of the supermarket and arrived at the clothing aisle. He reached out to feel the clothes. They looked like regular clothes on the outside, but the texture reminded him of plastic.

"Put these clothes on! Bring multiple hats with you, too! Quick!" Charles roared.

With a resounding crash, the humans, wrapped in multiple layers of garment, charged through the glass doors and sprinted toward the towering wall in the distance.

Despite the layers of protection, the leeches would score another victim every now and then and leave a black puddle of liquid in their place. At this point, no one dared to stop—Stopping here meant dying.

Three hundred meters.

Two hundred meters.

One hundred meters!

The persistent dripping overhead ceased as Charles led the exhausted group of humans into the passageway of the massive wall.

The colossal wall shielded the party from the black rain. They were finally safe. Without even taking a breather, the humans swiftly removed all their protective clothes, just in case the leeches hitched a ride and squirmed into them through the seams of the garment.

"Take half of the people to your boat! I'll take the other half to mine. Hurry!" Charles shouted to the female follower of the Divine Light Order.

Even in their extreme fatigue, everyone efficiently boarded the wooden boats and skillfully handled the oars. Filled to its full capacity, the boat steadily approached the Narwhale.

With the echoing sound of the Narwhale's horn, the once-stagnant ship began on her journey once more.

Catching his breath on the deck, Charles leaned against the railings. His intense gaze was fixed on the island in the distance.

Under the illumination of the bright searchlights, he watched the black leeches scale the colossal walls, consuming everything in its path like a devil's hand.

The various events on the island flashed past in Charles' mind like watching snippets of a movie. He had only been on the island for a few days, but it felt like an eternity.

"This island is gone; the Meeh'eks within have been annihilated as well. They won't be able to capture anyone for their twisted opera anymore," Richard parted his lips and said.

Charles ignored his alter ego. He had another important matter to attend to. Grabbing Dipp next to him, he dragged the young lad into his captain's quarters.

The oil lamp flickered to life with a click. Charles tossed a notebook, ruler, and pen into Dipp's hands while the latter wore an expression of confusion.

Charles proceeded to remove his jacket with trembling hands.

"Sketch the map of the wounds on my back, hurry!" Charles ordered as he turned his naked back toward his boatswain.

"But Captain... there are no wounds on your back," Dipp remarked.

"What?!" Charles felt an invisible hand clutching his heart. He frantically reached out a hand to trace where the scars should have been to find that the inscriptions Salin had left on his back had completely healed.

He was instantly reminded of the strange capsule that the white-robed Meeh'ek had forced him to ingest. It seemed to be a drug that could heal all wounds.

Were my efforts all in vain? Charles instantly felt a wave of desolation washing over him, and his knees buckled under the weight of it.

"Captain, there are no wounds on your back, but there are some scars," Dipp continued. He had no idea how close he was to receiving a harsh beating from Charles.

Charles sent a furious glare toward Dipp.

He turned around and instructed, "Draw according to the scars. Hurry up."

Soon, a replicated nautical chart was placed into Charles' trembling hands.

Matching the details with the one imprinted in his mind, Charles suddenly let out a laugh. His laughter grew louder and heartier, much to the discomfort of Dipp.

"Captain, are you alright?" Dipp asked, his face tinged with worry.

"I'm alright, absolutely alright!" With a delightful glee, Charles abruptly hugged Dipp before he opened the door and forcefully pushed the young lad out.

Closing the door behind him, Charles' gaze was fixated on the map in his hands.

"We found the exit! We can finally go home!" Charles muttered to himself.

No matter how much torment he had suffered or how much despair he had undergone on this journey, he found it all worthwhile when he stared at the map in his hands

"Ah! I've yet to start writing my book 'Twenty Thousand Miles into the Subterranean Sea.' I'd better start on it immediately, or it would be too late once we get back up there." Richard's voice resonated in Charles' head.

Hearing Richard's voice, the smile on Charles' face slowly faded. He carefully placed the nautical chart away between the pages of his diary.

"Now that things have come to an end, we should have a proper talk about the mess you got us into," Charles commented.

***

Lying on the plush bed, Anna hummed along to the latest melody from the phonograph. It was the latest hit popular track in the Isle of Whereto. With her svelte figure exposed for all to see, she supported her head with one hand as she flipped through an art book filled with illustrations of grotesque monsters.

The bathroom door opened with a click as a muscular young man emerged from within. His modesty was shielded by a mere towel wrapped around his waist. His voice quivered with a hint of excitement as he said, "Miss Anna. I'm done with my bath."

Anna cast a nonchalant glance at him. "Did you wash yourself properly?"

"Ye...Yes! I made sure I covered every spot. You can check for yourself," the young man answered as he enthusiastically moved toward the bed.

He was just a mere hooligan wandering the harbor area, so being taken in by a renowned socialite of the Isle of Whereto was a reality beyond his wildest dreams.

He couldn't even dream of it happening. If he boasted about his one-night endeavor with the lady, his comrades would surely die of envy.

With lust washing over him, he eagerly reached out his left hand toward Anna's porcelain skin while his right hand removed the towel around his waist.

Almost immediately, the lascivious grin on his face morphed into one of sheer terror, and his blood-curdling screams echoed in the room.

The tentacle monster swallowed its prey whole while standing in a pool of blood before reverting to the beautiful Anna as if nothing had happened. She clapped her hands softly, and three women dressed in black and white maid uniforms entered the room.

They silently and meticulously cleaned up the aftermath and reverted the interior to its previous pristine state.

Anna lay down on the bed again and resumed her distracted perusal of the art book.

"Any news from the Coral Archipelago?"

"No, my mistress," her head maid answered with a deferential bow.

Anna let out a sigh and playfully twirled a strand of her hair. She rolled to the other side of the bed, where a portrait of Charles was placed on the nightstand.

Her left hand turned into a tentacle and wrapped around the photo frame to bring the portrait closer to her.

"Mistress, who is he?" her head maid asked.

"Him?" The corners of Anna's lips curved into a smile. A hint of wistfulness flashed across her eyes. Tenderly caressing the glass over Charles' portrait with a tentacle, she answered, "He's my man."

Ding dong!

A doorbell chime interrupted her thoughts. Without moving, Anna signaled with a slight tilt of her chin for the maid to open the door.

The head maid swiftly laid out the carpet and rushed to answer the door.

"Mistress, it's the Governor's dau—"

Before the maid could finish her words, Margaret eagerly dashed in with her gown trailing behind her.

"Anna, has Mr. Charles replied?" Margaret asked.