For high-ranking demons, eating was more an instinct driven by their bloodline. They could not restrain their inner craving for flesh and blood. Although a bloody life greatly harmed their capacity for artistic creation, nearly all demons were fervent lovers of art. Many great demons were discerning connoisseurs, while only a very few became outstanding artists.
The reason Sir Ulrich liked Nikita's cooking was that her dishes had begun to possess an artistic quality. This was also one reason she had ultimately survived within the Lich King's territory.
"Weren't we setting out? Why are we putting away the sails?" The banshee looked contentedly at the diners showering praise upon her food and asked.
This time, no one gave her a hard time.
"We have to put away the sails before we can set off! Leaving them spread wide means we're stopping the ship!" Ryan took a great gulp of the bright green drink and praised it. "A demon ship like ours naturally can't be like those stupid mortals' ships."
Nikita thought that method was even stupider, so she wisely changed the subject.
"The captain said we were heading north. Do you know where we're going?"
"The North Sea," Ryan answered simply.
To wizards, the North Sea was a very broad concept; the entire Arctic Ocean fell within its scope. But in the demons' vocabulary, only one place could be called the North Sea.
That was the territory of the Great Ice Mountain Demon.
"Why are we going there?" The banshee's lovely slender brows drew together. If the sea monsters aboard the Mist were merely somewhat rough in their ways, then the demons on the iceberg were outright barbarians.
The liches privately said that the legendary Great Ice Mountain Demon had gone berserk during his advancement, and something had gone wrong with his mind. That was why the demons under his command had all become stupid as well.
"That should be my question to you." Ryan glanced at the banshee.
"A beauty doesn't need to answer any questions from crude men." Harry's voice was muffled, his mouth still stuffed full of pastries. Demons all had enormous appetites. The afternoon tea Nikita had made for a hundred people had been crammed into the stomachs of these two energetic young men.
Nikita noticed several spots of meat sauce on Harry's pink polo shirt.
"We were originally heading to the Black Triangle next, but after you came aboard, the boss changed his mind." Ryan set down the knife and fork in his hand and looked at Nikita with a miserable expression. "The tickets I reserved a month in advance for the Siren concert are wasted, and I won't get to taste Havana's chef's Minotaur trotters in sauce either. What exactly did you say to the captain?"
He pulled a piece of green hide from his pocket and waved it vigorously before the banshee. Nikita saw several Sirens sprawled lazily on a reef, twisting their bodies. Above their heads hung a jade coin like a bright moon, surrounded by three or four Gold Beans.
"One jade coin and four Gold Beans." Ryan slapped the leather concert ticket heavily onto the table.
"The north is very far away. How long will it take us to get there?" Nikita ignored the blond young man's complaints. Holding that bright green drink, she took small sips and raised a new question.
Harry's mouth was still full of food, and he glanced at Ryan.
"What is our ship called?" Ryan put away his ticket without interest and asked in return.
"The Mist!"
"Then look around us. What do you see?"
Nikita looked around and suddenly understood. Though she could still feel the blazing sun in the sky, a hazy layer of mist had unknowingly closed in from every direction. The fog grew thicker and thicker, and within only a few minutes, visibility had dropped to three or five meters.
"Quiet." The old shipwright's furious growl rang beside everyone's ears.
Time trickled by second by second, yet the dense fog before them showed no sign of dispersing. Nikita could only hear the gurgling water by her ears, along with unsettling roars coming from within the fog.
Gradually, threads of coldness closed in from every direction. The banshee raised her head and quietly gazed at the misty sky and misty sea, unable to tell where the chill was coming from.
As the cold grew stronger, the fog slowly thinned. The afterglow of the setting sun began to shine through the heavy veil and fall upon the deck.
Nikita blinked, shook her head, and shock suddenly burst into her scarlet eyes. She raised her head and stared fixedly at the sky.
Overhead stretched a brilliant river of stars.
The banshee leaped up and ran to the rail.
Not far from the Mist, a pristine white iceberg slowly drifted past her eyes. On it, a lazy polar bear lay atop the ice, patting its belly as it brazenly watched the black ship that had suddenly appeared before it.
The Mist had crossed thousands of miles of ocean and arrived at the North Sea.
Crossing ten thousand miles of sea was as swift as flight. Those words abruptly surfaced in the banshee's heart.
"You were just asking how long it would take to get north, right?" Harry strolled up beside her with a smug grin. He raised the Pocket Watch in his hand and put on a solemn air. "After this lord's careful measurements, it took roughly five minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Mm, with an error of about five minutes and thirty-six seconds either way."
"Error?" Nikita very much wanted to kick him, but she was even more curious what that error meant.
"It was the time we spent entering and leaving the fog, of course."
The banshee said nothing, merely expressing the excitement in her heart through her trembling breath.
Ryan looked with satisfaction at the new crew member's reaction and comforted her. "Don't get excited. This is only a small scene. Stay aboard long enough, and you'll learn what a true miracle is."
"I'm not excited. I'm just freezing!" The banshee's teeth chattered as she spoke.
Harry scampered into the cabin and returned carrying a brand-new white fine-fur cloak, which he draped over the banshee's shoulders.
The banshee shot him a sidelong glare but said nothing.
"That was my new coat!" Ryan roared, then threw himself into a brawl with Harry.
On the distant iceberg, the white bear stood upright with a large fish clamped in its jaws. Its little red eyes stared curiously at the tangled spectacle on deck.
Nikita paid no attention to the two men's fight. Her gaze had been drawn to the sea nearby.
Compared to the waters of the warm region they had been in before, the North Sea's waters were a deeper color. The dark navy surface gleamed with rippling light, dotted with ice floes of all sizes. Compared with that iceberg, the floes seemed fragile and desolate. Only a few tired seals lay atop them, resting their tails.
Not far from the Mist, ripples spread across the calm sea. The seals resting their tails raised their heads alertly and stared at the ripples, their tails uneasily slapping the ice beneath them.
In less than a minute, a huge whirlpool appeared before Nikita's eyes. Its deep center resembled the legendary sea eye, unfathomable in its depths.
The seals screamed and leaped from the ice floes like dumplings dropping into a pot, swimming desperately away from the whirlpool.
But it was already too late.
A massive gray ship, covered from top to bottom in seaweed and shells, spewed seawater as it emerged from the deep sea eye. The seals caught in the whirlpool struck the seaweed and shells like chicks smashed against rocks, leaving behind only dark red stains.
Nikita looked at the two young sea monsters beside her, who had stopped fighting.
"The Whirlpool, another great ship that can rival ours!" Harry explained to Nikita with a proud expression. "The boss is probably meeting that old fellow from the Whirlpool this time."
"It's not just him." Ryan's startled voice came from behind them.
Turning around, Nikita followed Ryan's somewhat rigid figure and saw a hazy image.
It was like the mirage mortals spoke of. Within it, a broad, squat five-masted ship lay peacefully moored in a scenic harbor. Nikita could even see a drunken sailor on the dock in the distance being stripped of all his valuables by several thugs and thrown onto the ground.
"This mirage is so clear. It looks real!" she could not help exclaiming.
"Because it is real." Harry's voice had lost its earlier slickness and sounded somewhat grim.
Nikita looked at him in astonishment, only to find Harry staring solemnly at the mirage.
"This is the Sea God, a massive tower ship that dominates the eastern seas." Ryan quietly explained.
Nikita understood, then was stunned again.
"The Mist, the Whirlpool, the Sea God, and that steady iceberg." Harry counted on his fingers and smacked his lips. "Something huge has really happened."
"Iceberg?" Nikita turned dizzily and looked toward the iceberg nearby.
It truly was an iceberg, a genuine iceberg. The polar bear atop it seemed rather displeased by the successive intruders and let out an angry roar.
"I originally thought it was an iceberg too. But seeing legendary sea monster ships appearing one after another around us, I couldn't help recalling the northern legend."
"What exactly did you tell the boss?" Harry looked sternly at Nikita.
The young banshee looked utterly bewildered.