Hurry and Fetch Miss Aleister!

It was still far too early for the passengers to go to sleep.

Although there were hardly any people visible on the damp, dimly lit deck, the bar inside the cabin was at its liveliest.

The Lizardman dealer was shaking the dice, surrounded by a large crowd. In the corners, some card players and chess players who looked like experts had gathered, with groups of onlookers standing behind them with their arms folded.

The cold-faced Half-Elf bartender was shaking the shaker in his hand at a steady rhythm. Behind him stood row after row of small oak barrels.

The travelers who had never met before had drinks and late-night snacks set out before them at the bar. They chatted about what they had seen, or boasted until their faces flushed red.

The only regret was probably the lack of dancing girls... Yet having no dancing girls aboard a ship was perfectly normal.

"Let me tell you," a red-faced, heavily bearded man said. "The new Pope is quite famous over in Avalon..."

Just as everyone was listening intently to the gossip—

A sudden, violent impact from outside made the ship rock violently, interrupting the man.

The swaying lamps inside the cabin either went out or flickered. Someone, swaying drunkenly, carried his drink toward a card table. But the sudden rocking threw him off balance, and the Black Beer in his hand, topped with coffee-colored foam, flew out and splashed over someone's head, soaking the nearby card table as well.

"Hey, you—"

An angry shout rang out. The crowd shoved against one another, and the arguing suddenly grew louder, drowning out the laughter and conversation.

The next moment, the ship rocked violently again—but this time, it was far more than a simple sway.

The ship abruptly lurched hard to one side. The