After the Only Cook on Board Took the Helm

The restless sea wind swept across the mirror-calm ocean, whipping the shipboard flags until they snapped in the wind. An escort fleet composed of numerous large warships sailed through the night, and within its formation, a massive phantom was gradually emerging from the air.

Upon an ark base the size of a small city-state stood a magnificent cathedral with soaring spires. Lights between the multiple pinnacles illuminated the nearby sea, while rows of towers and covered bridges guarded the cathedral's main structure like giant sentinels standing at the ark's edge—this was the Deep Sea Church's Pilgrimage Ark. After lingering in the southern waters for many days, it had finally returned to the central Boundless Sea.

Helena stood on the terrace atop a tower of Storm Cathedral, gazing out at the tranquil sea in the night. A middle-aged priest stood quietly beside her, his head slightly bowed.

"The Goddess's condition seems to be worsening," Helena suddenly said. "Within the Boundless Sea, no one can hear her voice clearly anymore."

"The Church of Death has sent similar reports," the middle-aged priest said with a nod. "And it is said that incidents of the dead growing restless have appeared in many city-states that have remained in darkness for a long time—not only city-states protected by the Church of Death, but others as well."

Helena listened quietly. After a long while, she sighed softly and traced the emblem of the Goddess of Storms over her chest—a pattern of rises and falls with some mysterious meaning, yet with no corresponding explanation or record in The Storm Codex. "...The order of death and storms is fading from the entire world."

The middle-aged priest said nothing, merely standing quietly at her side.

Helena glanced back at him. "Are there many who are wavering?"

"...More people have recently