The chaotic magic turbulence and fierce winds and waves are like a colossal forest, stirring a wide swath of the sea with terrifying power. Yet, every forest has its boundaries—in the curtain woven from towering waves and energy turbulence, a ship shrouded by a powerful barrier crashes through the layers of waves. It is lifted by a suddenly rising sea current, then stumbles and collides on a tumultuous sea surface, finally arriving at a relatively calm sea area.

The bright sunshine and gentle sea breeze gather together, welcoming this challenger who has overcome countless hardships.

A sailor crawls out from hiding and then casts a flying spell to reach the upper deck. He gazes towards the stern of the ship, seeing a wall of gray-black clouds swiftly receding from view. The radiant sunlight bathes the sea around the Courage, creating a stark contrast akin to two different worlds.

"...Goddess of Magic..." the sailor murmurs, "This is far more frightening than the magic turbulence I saw in the Mage towers..."

"We need to recalibrate our course," another sailor reaches the upper deck, gazing up at the clear sky. Suddenly, multiple layers of pale blue light rings appear before his eyes. In the lens formed by the overlapping rings, the light of stars flickers continuously. Moments later, the sailor furrows his brow, "Tsk... We have indeed deviated from our course, but fortunately, not by too much..."

In the Courage’s command room, the floating control mage looks at Owen Dyson: "Captain, we are recalibrating our course."

Owen Dyson nodded: "Return to the correct direction as quickly as possible—the Chaotic Turbulence at sea can reappear at any moment. The longer we linger in this area, the more dangerous it becomes."

Strong magic energy flows between the various cabins of the ship, and the all-encompassing magic circles and the crew stationed throughout have begun operating at maximum efficiency. Due to extensive equipment damage, even the trial Magic-Powered Engine suffered significant malfunction during the previous storms. Currently, this advanced exploration ship can almost only rely on manpower for navigation, but fortunately, the amplifying array of the ship’s main body remains intact, and the sturdy anti-magic hull protected the casting crew during the encounter with magic turbulence. The ship can still proceed with its mission in relatively good condition—this is the only good news among all the bad news.

"We need to reevaluate the ’Chaotic Turbulence’ in the ocean," with the situation becoming slightly safer, Owen Dyson couldn’t help but reflect on this voyage. He looked at the first officer beside him, his tone serious, "It’s not simply a mix of wind and waves with magic turbulence—it appeared without any warning before, that’s the most dangerous part."

"We created a ’warning Astrolabe’ modeled after the relics of the Storm Church, but now it seems to not have worked—at least not stably," the first officer shook his head, "It frantically agitated after the Courage fell into the storm, but only caused distress and agitation."

Warning Astrolabe...

Owen Dyson couldn’t help but look at a long table near the porthole. On that long table, adorned with complex magic symbols, a complicated magical device is fixed in the center of an array. It consists of a core sphere and numerous tracks and small spheres orbiting the core sphere, resembling an astronomical instrument used by Astrologers to deduce the stars. However, the core sphere does not symbolize the earth, but rather is filled with the azure shimmer like seawater.

This is an ancient "Storm Church Relic" restored by analyzing ancient artifacts and technical materials. Seven hundred years ago, Storm Clerics used such instruments to predict environmental changes at sea and find safe routes. Since the headquarters of the Storm Church was located in the Typhon Empire, and the Dyson Family had close ties with the Storm Church, a substantial amount of related technical documentation was preserved in Mobius Port. After investing a certain amount of human and material resources, the Empire’s scholars successfully recreated this thing—however, in this voyage, its effectiveness was disappointing.

"The conditions in the laboratory are ultimately different from reality; the real ocean is far more complex than we imagined, and this sacred object... evidently requires the complement of Storm Divine Arts to truly function," a scholar accompanying the ship couldn’t help but sigh lightly, "Mages’ Mana cannot directly control Divine Arts devices... In this era, where can we find a sane Storm Cleric?"

Owen Dyson didn’t answer but merely watched the magical illusion projecting the outside scene of the ship, his tone low: "Just to break through the first storm zone near the coast, the Courage was pushed to such a state—facts have proven that the plan to forcefully break through the storm relying on barriers and anti-magic hull is infeasible, at least we don’t have that capability at present. The only safe way... is still to find a safe route within the storm."

"But safe routes change at any moment; the farther we go towards the open sea, the more complex the Chaotic Turbulence becomes, and safe routes become harder to control," the ship’s scholar said, "Currently, we don’t have effective means to observe or predict them."

"Then continue striving in this direction," Owen Dyson said in a deep voice, "Although the warning Astrolabe did not perform as expected, at least it activated after entering the storm zone, proving that the Storm Church’s technology wasn’t entirely beyond outsiders’ control. The Cecil Clan could transform the Druids’ alchemy into industrial technology; there’s no reason the Typhon Empire couldn’t achieve something similar."

After hearing this admonition, the scholar’s expression became serious: "...What you said is very true."

Owen Dyson took a gentle breath and turned to the Mage monitoring the ship’s condition: "What’s the status of the Magic-Powered Engine?"

"The water ingress and elemental corrosion in the Machinery Cabin have been cleared, and the maintenance personnel are assessing the situation," the floating Mage surrounded by magic symbols replied immediately, "...The core does not seem to be damaged, just the transmission device got jammed during the turbulence. If we can dock in a safe area, there’s an opportunity to repair them."

"Repair the engine as much as possible," Owen Dyson said, "This ship needs engine power—sailors must reserve their physical strength to handle the dangers on the sea."

"If only we could get hold of the Cecil people’s engine technology," the first officer beside couldn’t help but sigh, "It’s said that they’ve already built engines that can run stably on large ships, and they know how to make machines resist harsh elemental environments..."

"They build riverboats, not sea ships," Owen Dyson shook his head, "Of course, their engine technology is indeed more advanced; after all, magic-conducting machinery initially developed from them... But they wouldn’t kindly give the real good stuff to the Typhon Empire."

Just then, the Mage responsible for observing external conditions suddenly shouted: "Captain! Land sighted ahead!"

"Get me the nautical chart!" Owen Dyson immediately said to the first officer beside him.

The first officer quickly fetched the nautical chart—a newly drawn chart composed largely of ancient book records from hundreds of years ago. Former Typhon colonial islands near the coast are marked amid the crisscrossing lines of the chart, and a shimmering red line snaking across the paper. At the end of the glowing line floats a lively, magically condensed ship projection—that’s the Courage.

The Astrologer among the sailors and the ship’s own star formation jointly confirmed the Courage’s position on the ocean. This position was then projected in real-time by the Mage controlling the ship’s core onto the bridge. The specially enchanted nautical chart situated within the bridge’s magic-pervasive environment marked the Courage onto that pale yellow parchment—Owen Dyson’s task on this voyage includes verifying whether the markers from seven hundred years ago on this chart are still applicable, and confirming whether this new ship positioning technology at sea is feasible.

Considering the risks involved in this task, the Courage did not stray too far from the continent. The target island for exploration this time was the closest colonial point to the Typhon mainland back in the day. However, everyone underestimated the ocean’s danger, and even at this position that can almost be called near the coast, Courage still faced enormous challenges.

Owen Dyson’s gaze slowly moved across the magic parchment, the dimly glowing little ship gently swayed among the ancient coordinates, perfectly recreating the current state of the Courage, and ahead of it, the outline of an island was emerging from the parchment.

"If our course has returned to the correct position... that is Tasos Island," the Typhon aristocrat lightly tapped the table with his fist, his tone a mix of excitement and a hint of heaviness, "territory we once had to abandon..."

"It is our destination," the first mate said beside him, "It is said that for hundreds of years after the Age of Sailing ended, the Sons of the Storm occupied that island and the surrounding reefs..."

"Those dark cultists should now have reached places further from land, into the deep eastern ocean," Owen Dyson gently shook his head, "Yet perhaps there are still some traces left by them on Tasos Island... this could help us understand what those insane cultists have been through all these years."

With that, he raised his head and ordered loudly:

"Urge the sailors to give it their all, full speed ahead to Tasos Island— the waters near the island are safe, we can repair the engine and anti-magic exterior there!"

...

Far from the Loren Continent, in the depths of the open sea, a large archipelago lay dormant, quietly amidst the waves and gentle breeze.

On the largest of the islands, a human-built town bathed in sunlight, with an orderly distribution of high and low buildings, port facilities, lighthouses, bell towers, and a pyramid-shaped Great Temple at the center watching over each other.

However, this settlement, which was supposed to be bustling and prosperous, was shrouded in an unusual stillness—

The streets were deserted, the port facilities unattended, the bell towers and lighthouses stood lonely in the sea breeze, and fallen leaves on the ramp leading to the Great Temple had remained unswept for days.

In the deathly still streets and alleys, only a few terrified and dazed eyes occasionally flashed by in the doorways of some still un-abandoned houses, the island’s remaining inhabitants hiding in their homes, offering little sense of security, as if awaiting the impending doomsday, waiting for fate’s end.

A gust of sea breeze blew through the street alleys, lifting scattered sheets from the corners—these papers, exuding a seaweed fragrance and made from an extremely peculiar material, floated up, some sticking to nearby walls.

Written on the papers, using the common human alphabet and some wave-like undulating script of another race, in places covered in grime, only some parts could be vaguely recognized:

"... According to authoritative scholars’ studies, mutations are harmless, please do not panic overly..."

"The Queen has decided to accept the mutated humans, we will help you get through these difficulties..."

"Do not recklessly walk towards a dead end, the deep sea is actually friendly..."

"Beachfront houses near Sunshine Beach can be rented or sold, the first one hundred newly transformed Naga can enjoy down-payment-free move-in..."

"Limited processing for Antawen city residents’ identity..."

"... Sea Trench City urgently recruiting construction workers, the Queen promises free vocational training and job assignments for deep-diving aspirants, High-Frequency Resonance Excavator technology taught and assigned..."

These things are invitations from sea demons, are temptations from the deep sea, and are the terrifying whispers from those unnameable ancient sea domains.

Since a month ago, those sea demons have used some flying device to scatter these "letters" across the entire archipelago, and now, they waited openly near the island, waiting for the last humans on the island to transform into horrifying deep-sea creatures.

Initially, the Sons of the Storm still had the capacity to clear these flyers and soothe people’s hearts, but now, there wasn’t a single healthy resident who could step forward to do these things—instead, more and more people left the island completely transformed, now surpassing half of the former residents.

The remaining ones only struggled to survive before they were entirely eroded and transformed by the deep sea.

At the edge of the island, beneath the calm sea surface, shadows flitted lightly through the water, moving between the changing lights and shadows cast by the sunshine.

The sea demons are waiting.

Patiently waiting.