The noon sun hung in the middle of the northern sky, without a trace of cloud. Against the deep blue backdrop, only a large black bird spread its broad wings and soared between sea and sky.
The vicious sunlight fell upon the glittering sea, reflecting captivating colors.
This was an open stretch of sea. From before their eyes all the way to where sea met sky, there was not a single abrupt or unusual thing to be seen—only richly painted blue.
The gentle sea breeze brushed across the water, drawing schools of flying fish from below. Facing the sun, they flapped their broad fins with a crackling patter.
What startled these little creatures was not some vicious marine predator, but a hundred-meter-long three-masted sailing ship.
A black sailing ship that lay quietly asleep upon the sea.
Its hull was black and gleaming throughout. The pitch-black shell seemed glazed, shining brilliantly beneath the sun.
Five dim square sails hung from the first two main masts, while a large triangular fore-and-aft sail hung from the last mast. The canvas was fully spread, yet the Black Ship stood eerily still, not moving an inch. The sea for miles around was without a ripple.
On the stern deck stood a storm lantern. Its flame was feeble and greenish, yet even beneath clear skies and blazing sun, that lamp radiated a dazzling glow, shrouding the entire ship in its faint light.
Several thick ropes were tightly fastened to the mast that slanted forward from the bow toward the sky. They ran the length of the Black Ship and bound firmly around the thick central mast.
Beneath the bow's slanting mast stood a siren figurehead with her hands pressed together in prayer.
The siren's scarlet eyes glimmered faintly. She looked almost alive, her body white as jade, standing in stark contrast to the black ship. She wore only a thin veil, yet a thick crimson iron chain coiled around her neck and arms, winding about her body.
Dozens of large, fine-scaled snakes as thick as a child's arm coiled atop her head. At this moment, these cold-loving cave dwellers hung listlessly beneath the blazing sun, flicking their tongues as they dangled from the spear-like mast at the bow.
Warm days always made people feel lazy.
Laziness bred a drowsy atmosphere.
The deck was empty. Not a single diligent sailor could be seen scrubbing it; even the ropes hanging from the masts were too lazy to sway.
A rough canvas lounge chair sat atop the cabin.
A black-haired young man in a pink polo shirt and white-and-green floral beach shorts lay in it, an open copy of "Miss Dodo" covering his face. Faint snores drifted from beneath the magazine.
On the main mast directly behind the sleeping young man hung a bald, burly man in coarse cloth shorts. His head drooped, and he did not move, without the slightest sign of life. With his arms spread wide like a suffering Jesus, his muscular body was covered in scars.
Leaning against the forward section of the port rail was a tall Blond Youth. A thick cigar hung from his lips as he squinted motionlessly at the fishing rod before him.
Perhaps he was the only one awake on deck.
The black sailing ship lay alone upon this tranquil sea. As far as the eye can see, there was nothing but rolling waves. Other than fishing, the awake fellow could find no other amusement.
But even that bit of amusement slowly melted away beneath the fierce sunlight.
"Damn it!" the Blond Youth cursed irritably.
His fishing rod had not had a single chance to reel anything in since morning. The quiet sea was like a sheet of blue glass, without the slightest ripple. The piece of intestine hanging from his hook had not even attracted a single green-headed fly.
"Have these wizards been conducting too many toxic experiments lately? Even flies hate their flesh and blood now?" the Blond Youth maliciously speculated as he boredly raised his head.
Then he saw the black dot circling high in the sky.
"Damn feathered brute!" The young man took a deep drag from his cigar.
It was all that big bird's fault.
He lifted his eyelids and cast a glance at the black dot in the sky with scarlet eyes, then exhaled a thick smoke ring.
At the center of the smoke ring, the large bird stretched its wings as though nothing had happened.
Ever since the captain had discovered a pair of wizard's eyes hanging overhead, he had ordered everyone to raise the sails and drop anchor.
So the Black Ship had stopped in this godforsaken place where only one bird came to shit.
At this hour, they should have been on the white beaches of the Mediterranean, listening to sirens sing little tunes, slaughtering a couple of Minotaurs raised by the Under the Moon Council, and praising the beautiful moon.
Who would have thought it would all be ruined by a single big bird?
"Harry!" The Blond Youth threw the half-finished cigar in hand into the sea, glared at the lounge chair atop the cabin, and shouted angrily, "You really haven't been stealing bird eggs lately? That feathered brute has been circling over our heads for three days!"
The snoring beneath "Miss Dodo" paused. The young man in the pink polo shirt covered his ears with his hands, mumbled a few words, turned onto his side, and pointed his backside toward the Blond Youth by the rail, continuing to enjoy the ease beneath the sun.
The Blond Youth narrowed his eyes again.
A trace of blood-red flashed through his pupils, and a violent smile curled his lips.
Three days of pent-up fury needed only a baseless excuse to explode.
Perhaps after they started fighting, the captain would beat them senseless and hang them from the mast to dry in the wind.
But if he did not act, he feared the flames festering in his heart would burn him into ash.
The Blond Youth rubbed his palms together, producing a string of fine pops of compressed air.
With his backside toward him, the young man in the pink polo shirt tensed every muscle. The snoring beneath "Miss Dodo" vanished without a trace.
As though sensing something, the fine-scaled snakes hanging from the bow's slanting mast raised their necks one after another and hissed at the Blond Youth and the young man in pink, flicking their tongues.
The smooth bald head of the burly man hanging from the mast swayed slightly.
For a moment, the deck fell into a strange silence.
Then, with a pop like a bubble bursting, a faint sound came from the bow and shattered the quiet on deck.
A slender figure flickered into view at the tip of the bow's slanting mast along with that soft sound.
The rapid clack of high heels rang out as the figure moved with a catwalk stride, jogging along the mast.
As she passed the base of the mast, she gave a cold snort and stomped hard. The fine-scaled snakes coiled around the mast saw their companion crushed into two pieces beneath her foot, shrieked in terror, scattered in all directions, and rolled back atop the siren figurehead's head.
"Nikita, it's only been a few years, but your temper has grown quite a lot." The Blond Youth followed the severed piece of snake flesh with his gaze as it fell into the sea, his tone distinctly unfriendly. "Since when have the Lich King's people been allowed to run wild at sea?"
The tranquil sea began to churn. A school of tiny white fish engulfed the piece of snake flesh like foam. Before a drop of blood could spill out, the snake flesh melted into that snow-white foam.