Three full days of patrolling the Outer Sea had yielded nothing.
Rowan put on a stern face, tied Talanji up again, and ran through every interrogation method he had-threats, coercion, promises, and bribes-yet still failed to get anything useful out of her.
"The mist shrouding the sea cannot be eroded by natural elements or dispersed by energy. It is ancient witchcraft intertwined with souls, its power drawn from De Other Side. Even if Zandalar's royal army became trapped in the sea fog, there would be nothing I could do."
Talanji spoke the truth.
Bwonsamdi had merely struck a bargain with her. He had not explained how to break the sea fog.
Rowan stroked his chin and mused, "You mean no one can dispel the mist except the god who created it?"
"The witchcraft knowledge passed down through generations of the Zanchuli Council centers on sustaining divine power. Since the god who created the mist can dispel it, your two archmages should theoretically be able to do the same. But first, they must find the key sustaining the sea fog spell," Talanji explained to Rowan.
Rowan had already heard all of this from the two archmages. The problem now was not how to dispel it, but how to find the center sustaining the sea fog's power.
"You mean we have to send the fleet into the mist before we can find where it's being created?"
Rowan's smile was stiff, his expression plainly asking whether she took him for an idiot.
Talanji knew how absurd that answer sounded. Wouldn't sailing into the sea fog willingly just mean trapping themselves?
The Combined Fleet had already spent months trapped in the mist. Now they were supposed to throw themselves into the same trap to rescue it? The mere thought was idiotic.
"You let me