A month passed quickly, and soon the day to set sail arrived.
The smokestack of the Unicorne was billowing black smoke once again as Charles led the newly recruited crew onto the deck.
"Bandage, go and assign the new crew their duties," Charles said to the first mate standing beside him.
The silent first mate nodded, stepping forward with his newly grown leg leading the new crew towards the deck.
Meanwhile, Charles brought Audric into the Captain's Room, where a newly purchased, large sea chart lay unfolded on the table, clearly marked with islands, danger zones, and dark regions.
Charles turned to the vampire in front of him and said, "Where is Sodoma? I want you to mark it."
"Uh, I can't see it, please tell me where Dark Crystal Island is."
Charles pressed his hand down on a pin, indicating, "This is Dark Crystal Island."
Following Dark Crystal Island, Audric traced an arc on the sea chart with his finger, gently poking it with his sharp nail, "Here."
To Charles's surprise, the place wasn't as far as he had imagined. "Sodoma is here? So close?"
"It appears here sometimes, on the 6th and 25th of every month."
Charles was taken aback. "Appears? It's not an island? It moves?"
"Yes, Captain, to be precise, it's a ship, a large ship assembled from vessels plundered by pirates."
Looking at the distance to that dot, Charles quickly calculated the sailing time and supplies needed in his mind.
Although Audric spoke with such certainty, the information was from 40 years ago, after all. If there was nothing there, they would have enough supplies to return.
"Are there enough blood plasma bags?"
Audric quickly nodded, "Yes, I have prepared enough for 60 days."
"Set some aside in case we engage in intense combat; I might need it."
"Understood, but Captain Charles, it's, after all, a relic of the Blood Clan; you should use it sparingly."
"Got it, you may go now."
Audric bowed and turned into a bat, swiftly flying out.
Near the island waters, Charles deliberately slowed down to allow the newly joined crew to adjust to each other.
Most of this trip's crew were locals from Coral Island, and some even had a brief acquaintance with Charles, making their interactions relatively harmonious.
On the eighth day away from the harbor, the Unicorne slowly approached its destination, as the pitch-black seas finally began to show some change.
"Captain, there's a ship ahead!!"
"I see it." Charles's gaze pierced through the glass toward the distant vessel.
It was obviously not Sodoma; the ship was too small, only half the size of the Unicorne, and it was made of wood.
Wooden ships were rare in Earth Sea; usually, the areas capable of growing wood were mostly cleared to grow edible crops.
As the vessel slowly drew nearer, more details emerged in front of Charles. Unlike the Unicorne's turbine drive, this wooden ship was surprisingly powered by sails.
Not to mention that there's basically no wind in Earth Sea, even if there was, relying on sails for navigation would be akin to courting death.
"Captain, what should we do?"
"I'll take the helm, you go out and signal with flags," he instructed, "Tell them to approach port side to port side as per the usual protocol."
This was basic maritime procedure, designed to prevent the two ships from colliding due to miscommunication.
"Got it!" Deep, with his bracelet, grabbed the flag and dashed out.
The red flag waved rapidly in the young man's hands, and the wooden ship began to turn, as if it understood the flag signals.
As the ships brushed past each other, Charles glanced at the old wooden ship with a flicker of suspicion in his heart. Was this ship also heading to Sodoma?
*Clap Clap Clap!* Suddenly, a crisis emerged. The gun ports on the left side of the wooden ship swung open, revealing the black muzzle of a cannon aimed directly at the Unicorne.
Charles tensed up and acted decisively, spinning the wheel furiously, trying to minimize the target area for the incoming cannonballs.
Even with Charles' quick reaction, several cannonballs hit the deck. But instead of the expected explosions, the cannonballs seemed soft; they stuck where they landed and began to emit a black-purple smoke that soon enveloped the entire Unicorne.
"Lily! Counterattack!" Charles's voice rang out, and the rats on deck quickly charged toward the cannon, the 125mm cannon muzzle turning toward the wooden ship.
Meanwhile, dark figures slowly drifted out of the black-purple smoke. Their bodies were as thin as paper and featureless where their faces should be, wielding weapons made of the same material.
The eerie paper figures had barely steadied themselves before they charged at the deck gun, wildly slashing at the rats above, forcing the movement of the cannon to halt.
The crew fired rapidly at these beings, but the bullets passed right through them without affecting their movement in the slightest.
Charles, with furrowed brows, didn't dare delay; he pulled out a mirror and was about to smear blood on it.
The ghostly tricks of the supernatural wouldn't scare him; it was the distant wooden ship that was critical, and he had to stop it.
Just as he was about to bite his finger, a sudden pain erupted in his stomach. Shocked, Charles looked down only to see the bloody tip of a blade protruding from his chest.
Without a moment's hesitation, he drew his pistol and pointed it behind him, ready to pull the trigger but abruptly stopping.
The person who had stabbed him was the sailor chief, Deep, who bore a chilling smile, and a cold voice emerged from his lips, "Go on... shoot..."
The next second, Charles took a deep breath, endured the severe pain, and promptly put on the clown mask.
As soon as the mask was on, Charles pulled the trigger, and Deep, hit by bullets, fell to the ground.
Controlling the muscles in his body to clamp the blade inside him, Charles staggered out of the cockpit.
Outside, the crew was already fighting the paper figures, clearly at a disadvantage except for the enlarged James, whose attacks were the only effective ones.
Clutching his wound, Charles grabbed a bat mirror and threw it with all his might at the bats overhead. "Blind them! Shake their ship to pieces!"
The bat, gripping the mirror, swiftly flew towards the wooden ship.
As he spoke, a paper figure appeared behind Charles, its shiny weapon raised to strike his head.
Charles quickly stepped back, crashing into the assailant, his Black Blade twirling, shredding the paper figure into confetti.
"Is that all?" Charles, gripping his blade ready to plunge into battle, suddenly stiffened, his wound beginning to bleed again.
He dared not make any sudden movements, his condition growing perilously unstable; any further chaos could lead to a severe hemorrhage and death.
Quickly, Charles found an alternative solution; he slowly crouched down and picked up a steel spike from a nearby barrel.
He threw the spike, pinning the paper figure accurately to the ground, securing it firmly, but this was only a temporary fix.
More and more paper figures appeared, seemingly endless, and Charles's consciousness began to blur.