A shout from the masthead tore through the quiet on deck.
The sailors in their assorted headscarves stopped what they were doing and looked where the lookout pointed, confusion spreading across their faces.
Was this a joke? These waters near the Calm Belt were warm all year round. Where had ice come from?
"Could it... have drifted over from that 'Grand Line'?"
The first mate stroked his thick beard and muttered.
Everyone knew that legendary sea route lay on the other side of the Calm Belt.
But no one dared consider crossing the Calm Belt.
Without wind, a ship could not move; never mind the mountain-sized Sea Kings roaming those waters. Encounter one, and not even your bones would remain.
"Captain, shall we get closer and take a look?"
The man holding the spyglass did not answer immediately.
Through the lens, the outline of the floating ice gleamed coldly in the sunlight.
Opportunities at sea often hid within the unusual.
He was just about to speak when his pupils abruptly contracted.
There were... figures on the ice.
As cold sweat slid down his temple, the spyglass slipped from his fingers and struck the gunwale with a dull thud.
The outline of the floating ice still swayed at the edge of his vision.
Several figures stood along its edge-the sheen of dark blue uniforms, the hems of white coats tugged by the wind, and a motionless patch of pure white.
The shadow of a hood swallowed the upper half of that face, leaving only the curve of a chin.
"Turn the ship."
The words squeezed out of his throat, dry and strained. "Immediately."
The uproar on deck erupted half a beat later.
Someone pointed at the sea and cried out, his finger trembling.
He did not need to look to know