"Sacrifice it?" Anderson lowered his head and glanced at the enormous sailing ship beneath his feet, which was over two hundred meters long.
"What sort of being would accept a ship as an offering? Unless it's a ghost ship."
Or you're the illegitimate son of some evil god.
Cyril glanced at Klein, whose eyes were practically shaking their heads, then said:
"Then let's leave it here. Traces of Mother Earth's aura linger in these waters. Perhaps after some time, this ship will come alive and turn into a different kind of ghost ship."
Recalling the Future that had produced milk earlier, as well as the floating island pieced together from countless corpses on the sea, Anderson sighed from the bottom of his heart:
"That really isn't good news. There'll be one more danger along the safe routes through these waters."
While they talked, Nina and several pirates returned to the deck with some of the surviving crew members from the Black Tulip.
There were even fewer living people aboard this ship than Cyril had expected: only the cook, the navigator, and a handful of sailors.
Most of the crew's duties had been taken over by undead. Admiral of Hell Ludwell seemed to have kept these few people aboard more to maintain his quality of life and ensure the ship would not get lost at sea.
It took little time for the professional pirates of the Future to strip the Black Tulip bare and return to their own ship.
After the Future set sail again, Cattleya reminded the still-excited crew:
After lying quietly in his room for a while, meditating with his eyes closed and restoring his spirituality, Cyril flashed into the hold.
He immediately saw Anderson sitting quietly on the stairs leading into the hold.
Anderson sat there alone, drinking