Translator: Cinder Translations
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As they prepared to leave, Stanford arranged for two members of the exploration team who were proficient in linguistics to stay behind. Their task was to learn the local language and serve as translators, preparing for further communication in the future.
The entire fleet continued to sail north. During their subsequent land explorations, the team encountered many indigenous tribes, including orc tribes that were open to communication and trade, as well as human tribes that immediately attempted to attack them for plunder. This slightly eased the exploration team's negative impression of foreign races.
Continuing further north (technically, their course was northwest), the temperature began to drop, influenced by both geography and the season. If their records were correct, they had entered winter.
Finally, the exploration team faced something terrifying for many members—daylight began to dwindle increasingly, until they reached a point where there were twenty-four hours of darkness.
"O Father in Heaven, may Your power protect us, these sinners!"
The crew was anxious, and from time to time, some would kneel on the deck, praying to the divine.
Faced with the rising panic in the crew, Commander Stanford had no choice but to gather everyone for a "science lesson."
"In our Northwestern Bay, the year is divided into four seasons. It's common knowledge that summer has longer days and shorter nights, while winter is the opposite. Many of you have likely traded in the south in recent years and experienced this difference firsthand. A clear example is found at Horns Bay to the south of Alden, where the length of day and night changes little throughout the year. Conversely, as we head further north, the difference in day length should become more extreme. Thus, I surmise that this phenomenon of twenty-four hours of darkness is a natural occurrence."
Upon hearing the commander's explanation, some seasoned sailors began to calm down, recognizing the truth in Stanford's words based on their own experiences.
Although there were still many skeptics, the fleet finally stabilized.
After nearly a week of exploring in the dark, they witnessed a breathtaking sight they had never seen before—the sky seemed to be covered by a massive, tangible light curtain composed of green, purple, and blue colors interwoven. It resembled cotton fluff or light gauze, adorning the night sky with unmatched beauty, with countless bright spots forming a vast sea of stars above, revealing the splendor of the universe and the supreme power of the Creator.
"O Father in Heaven!"
Stanford, who had just been giving a "science lesson" to the crew, was momentarily awestruck as he stepped out of the cabin, collapsing to his knees on the deck.
His eyes welled up; at that moment, he was utterly devout, clasping his hands together in sincere prayer.
If not for that omniscient and omnipotent Lord of Light, what power in the world could create such a miracle?
No one laughed at his behavior; the other members were similarly overwhelmed, and a large crowd knelt on the deck.
A miracle! Indeed, this was a true miracle!
Sadly, the miracle lasted only thirty minutes before disappearing, yet no one immediately recovered from the immense shock.
Stanford solemnly recorded the miraculous event in the day's nautical log with clear, precise handwriting.
Following the miracle, many voices in the team began calling for a return, as many believed they were in a sacred place and that continuing the voyage would blaspheme the divine.
Though he had just been filled with a sense of piety, Commander Stanford was not swayed by these remarks; he still remembered his mission.
Under his command, the fleet continued sailing in the land of eternal night—this was the name the exploration team had given to this body of water and land.
However, misfortune soon struck. The flagship that Stanford was aboard struck a reef and sank.
The talk of blasphemy could no longer be suppressed, especially combined with the unbearable cold, and the crew strongly insisted on returning home.
"Ah, if only we had divided the lower holds into smaller compartments, then even if one compartment flooded, it wouldn't affect the entire ship. That would have been a great idea; I'll have to mention it to the shipyard when we get back."
As Stanford transferred to another ship, he was not thinking of divine punishment but rather how to improve the vessel.
Unfortunately, over a dozen members of the exploration team did not manage to make it to the surface and perished in the frigid sea.
In this situation, he could no longer ignore the crew's opinions. Moreover, with the flagship's sinking, they had lost nearly half of their supplies, prompting Stanford to order the remaining two ships of the exploration team to turn back.
Yet their misfortune seemed far from over. During the return journey, illness quietly gripped them.
At first, it spread only on one ship, but soon cases appeared on the other vessel as well.
In the resource-strapped exploration team, this illness was lethal; almost every day, a crew member succumbed and returned to the sea.
The team increasingly believed they were cursed for blaspheming the gods.
This put immense pressure on Stanford. In truth, the misfortunes they faced were not uncommon in long voyages, but in this unfamiliar, far-flung sea away from human civilization, negative emotions were amplified many times over, and mysticism prevailed.
Finally, the Northern Exploration Team stumbled back to the Deer Tribe (a name they later learned), the same tribe with which they had previously traded.
Originally setting out with three hundred members, only about a hundred remained, shocking the two who had stayed behind to learn the language.
After offering a portion of their belongings as payment, the exploration team was allowed to rest in the Deer Tribe.
However, just as they had regained their strength and prepared to set off again, they discovered their misfortune had not ended— the natural harbor they had been using to temporarily dock their ships was frozen overnight.
Stanford reasoned that the exploration team might as well spend the winter with the Deer Tribe and wait until spring thawed the area before sailing south.
But losing their means of transportation made some people long for home even more intensely.
The earlier miracle they had witnessed, combined with the subsequent shipwreck, illness, and the harbor freezing over, led them to believe that they bore the curse of blasphemy, and that they would never be able to overcome this hurdle. Even if they were lucky enough to escape one disaster, another awaited them.
Given this, they hoped that in their final moments, they could perish on land closer to the Northwestern Bay of their hometown.
Thus, some of the members disregarded orders and insisted on returning to Alden overland.
"Alright, since you insist, I will set out with you," Stanford decided.
Long ago, Stanford had been an adventurer skilled in wilderness survival, and he believed his experience could help these men, whose minds were nearing despair.
He felt a sense of responsibility as the commander for the exploration team's predicament—regardless of whether he was directly responsible.
After ordering his first mate to remain behind and command the fleet, he, along with thirty subordinates, set off on foot with ten reindeer exchanged from the tribe, bringing food and dressed in thick fur garments, embarking on the journey south.
In their path lay an endless expanse of primitive forest and countless unknown indigenous tribes.
(End of the Chapter)
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