When Brando returned to the upper deck, the ship was sailing out of the channel between Tevid Island and Gusell Port with all sails billowing. The two ships ahead belonging to Tagus had also slowed down to wait for them. On one side of the sea, Tevid Island's jagged rocks looked ghastly pale beneath the moonlight. The wind blew from south of Gusell, and the ship swayed slightly with the waves. Since Tymiss had passed through the clouds, visibility over the sea was exceptionally high. He could clearly see the wall of fog on the eastern side of Wagtail Strait slowly moving.
There seemed to be countless ships within the dense fog, stretching endlessly. The ships had somehow formed a wall, while their forest of masts appeared and disappeared in the mist. No one knew whether there were hundreds or thousands of ships inside. What made Brando's expression turn grim was that this wall of fog was slowly approaching the western coast of Wagtail Strait—in other words, the direction they were in. It seemed intent on merging with the fog spreading out from Gusell Port.
That alone would not have been a problem, but the issue was that their three ships were caught right in the middle.
The deck fell utterly silent. Those who had been celebrating earlier were now speechless. They still had confidence that they could pass through the thin fog inside Gusell Port, but the wall of fog before them stretched for hundreds of miles. On the broad sea, neither its northern nor southern end could be seen, making it completely impossible to sail around.
When Brando emerged with Delphine and Instaron behind him, everyone instinctively turned their eyes toward him. He had led them out of Gusell Bay earlier, so everyone had subconsciously come to regard