Aboard the Winter Grama, almost everyone was sprawled across the decks, gasping for breath. Cold sweat streamed down their faces, and their pupils still trembled violently, as if they had yet to recover from the shadow of Natural Disaster.
Just as everyone was gradually coming to their senses and preparing to celebrate their survival, another change occurred.
The Winter Grama, which had been stranded on the sea under the protection of the wind barrier, began to move slowly, then picked up speed as time passed.
Many Revolutionary Army soldiers were caught off guard and flung into the air, crashing heavily against the ship's interior. At the same time, those who had managed to get back on their feet heard the roar of churning waves echoing all around them.
"What's going on?!"
"Quick, protect the food! Don't let it spill!" Amid the chaos, someone shouted and lunged toward the sacks of food beside him.
Meanwhile, on deck.
Ivankov and the others watched the surging sea spinning rapidly before their eyes, their faces pale. They clung tightly to the railing to keep from being thrown off the ship as it spun faster and faster.
"Quick, hold on to the railing! If you get thrown overboard now, you're done for!"
Ivankov shouted to his comrades stranded on deck. At the same time, he reached out and grabbed several people by the legs to keep them from plunging into the deep sea.
Looking up, they saw an enormous whirlpool rising from the sea. The Winter Grama floated along its edge, caught in the churning waves and swept into a rapid spin.
Step by step, it was drawn toward the very center of the whirlpool.
The hollow, shadowy Vortex Core filled the sea, swallowing huge quantities of seawater and anything thrown overboard from the deck with every passing second.
Everyone knew that if the ship was pulled into the core, it would be destroyed and all aboard would die in an instant.
As the Revolutionary Army desperately tried to stop the ship from being dragged in, one after another, enormous icy hands made of seawater burst through the surface, seized the vessel, and pulled it toward the ocean floor.
"!!"
"What the hell is this?!" Ivankov was on the verge of breaking down. He couldn't understand why the other side would go this far over a mere accidental discharge—especially when the shot hadn't even hit anyone.
"Talk about being petty!"
As soon as he finished speaking, one of the giant hands released the ship and swung straight toward Ivankov.
"Death Charm!"
"Boom..." The hand exploded, and seawater rained down across the deck.
"How did they hear that?!" Ivankov widened his eyes and muttered under his breath. Then he fell silent, smashing one giant hand after another.
Just then, an invisible storm rose again.
Whirling gusts surged forth, carving a huge wind tunnel nearly a hundred meters wide across the sea, stretching farther than the eye could see.
Then Dragon took control of the hurricane and lifted the entire Winter Grama out of the whirlpool, rendering its furious spin useless.
He raised a hand and sent the ship straight into the howling wind tunnel. Propelled by the gale, it soared across the sea and gradually disappeared beyond the horizon.
Seeing his comrades and the life-saving food already far from the storm, Dragon breathed a sigh of relief.
Then, after taking a long look toward the distant, unnamed powerhouse who hadn't even shown his face, Dragon too stepped into the wind tunnel and vanished into the storm.
Perhaps twenty years earlier, Dragon would have turned around and fought the unknown powerhouse in the distance.
But now, his ideals had reached a critical juncture. He didn't want to risk a death match with the other side when no one had even been hurt.
Even though he was entirely confident he could defeat his opponent, Dragon didn't want to take that risk.
The lives of his Revolutionary Army comrades and the food they desperately needed could not be put in danger.
The Revolutionary Army's soldiers should fall while liberating the oppressed and persecuted people across the world—not lose their lives over a small mistake in some forgotten corner of the world.
Elsewhere, Louis gazed in the direction the Revolutionary Army had disappeared, deep in thought.
But he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he turned and walked deeper into the Island Cloud.
"Let's go. They've already left."
Behind him, Uta asked without thinking.
"Did they run away?"
"No. They left."
Uta's expression went blank for a moment.
Then she lowered her head and fell silent, lost in thought.
Yelena, by contrast, turned to look into the distance, pondering.
At dawn, a vast, pristine-white Island Cloud descended from the sky. It fell until it nearly touched the sea, then gradually slowed to a stop.
A moment later, the Island Cloud rose again, leaving a warship behind on the boundless sea.
Beneath a parasol, Louis leaned back in a deck chair, studying a Children's Textbook in his hands.
After his long-distance clash with Dragon, Louis had picked up the book again, ready to create an even better vessel for the future killing machine.
"Tap tap tap..."
"Bang..."
Uta came running and pushed open the cabin door.
"Good morning, Louis!"
Dressed in pajamas, her two-toned hair flowing down her back, Uta radiated youthful, sunny cheer. She raised a slender, fair hand and waved at Louis.
Then, without waiting for Louis to answer, she stretched.
"Another bright and sunny day!"
With that, she ran off again, apparently looking for Yelena.
Louis shook his head, silently turned to the next page of the Children's Textbook, and immersed himself in a sea of knowledge.
After a long while, Yelena came out of the cabin carrying breakfast, accompanied by a petite shadow who had milk in one hand and a piece of bread in her mouth.
Uta dropped into the seat across from Louis. She washed down a bite of bread with milk, then blinked her big eyes and asked, "Louis, when will we reach our next stop?"
"About half an hour." Louis pointed behind Uta and gave her the answer.
"Are we almost there?..."
Uta puffed out her cheeks, her words muffled.
Hearing that, Yelena slowly set down her milk and looked thoughtful.
"Hmm..."
"We do need to restock some supplies..."
Yelena's voice was gentle, as soothing as a spring breeze.
Uta drained the milk Yelena had prepared for her, tilted her head, and drew out her words. "We~ don't seem to have any money, though?"
"Should we find some lucky pirates and rob them?" As she spoke, a hint of eager anticipation appeared in her purple eyes.
"No, there's money in the private safe in the warship's office." Yelena shook her head and explained. While cleaning up the trash, she'd stumbled across a private safe in the office. She had smashed it open and found quite a lot of Beli inside.
Uta raised an eyebrow. After a moment's thought, she tentatively asked, "Secret stash? Embezzlement?"
Her attention always wandered to the strangest things, making Yelena laugh.
"Who knows..."
Leaning back in his deck chair, Louis listened to Uta and Yelena chatting as he gazed into the distance, at an island faintly visible on the horizon.
"Frost Moon Village..."
"The Frost Moon Family..."
Then he glanced at the Seven Star Sword on the table, its demonic, ominous aura hidden away. At the other end of the deck lay the Long-Handled Warhammer, covered in scratches and fine cracks.
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