The military administrative region of Frost's eastern port was restless, with many having been awake all night.
Ever since the Sea Swallow lost contact, more than twenty-four hours had passed. Even the port church's clerics had attempted to reach out to the shipboard priests with spiritual energy calls, but no response was received.
The only clues and traces were pointing towards terrible possibilities.
In the harbor office, a middle-aged man in the uniform of a Frost Navy commander, his hair thinning, sat grim-faced behind a desk. A few other officers sat in chairs around the room, which was not large but filled with a heavy, oppressive atmosphere, as if a storm was brewing.
"We still haven't found any trace of the Sea Swallow. We have searched three times towards the direction of Frost mainland from the last known signal of the Sea Swallow. There's nothing on the surface," said a civilian military officer with light brown short hair, shaking his head.
