"Malak! You bastard, get up! The ship is flying!"
"Did sleeping turn your brain to mush? How could a ship fly? It's not some Feysac airship..."
"Shit! If you don't believe me, come see for yourself!" Hearing his companion's furious roar, the passenger called Malak forced back his drowsiness and pushed himself up from the bed. But the instant his gaze met the porthole, he fell into deep self-doubt—
"Michel, are we still dreaming?"
Slap! Michel swung his arm and slapped him awake, then grabbed his collar and said:
"You idiot, we're not dreaming! This ship really is flying! And it's going at least two hundred knots! No, maybe three hundred! Damn it! Could this ship not be the Maryvis, but the Future? Did the Admiral of Stars disguise her ship as a passenger vessel?"
"Calm down, calm down. The Future's sails have obvious spell formations on them. There's no way we boarded the wrong ship. No, that's not right. To begin with, suspecting that we boarded the Future at Darmir Harbor is ridiculous!"
Malak broke free of Michel's grip, rubbed his slightly swollen cheek, then quickly threw on his clothes and rushed out of the room.
The moment Malak and the Michel who chased after him left their room, they were swept up by the crowd. They could only follow the packed passengers onto the deck. The once-spacious deck had become crowded with over a thousand people gathered upon it, but no one cared about that now. Even without anything on the sea to serve as a reference, everyone could clearly tell that the ship was being lifted by some force and flying low through the air at an astonishing speed.
Even stranger, despite the ship's tremendous speed, there was no headwind at all on the open deck. There