CHAPTER 254: CHAPTER 254: EYES IN THE WAVES

"Quick, go to the cabin and plug that hole, or we’ll all die here!"

The First Mate, with bloodshot eyes, gritted his teeth and gave the order, his eyes still fixed on the white whale that was now rapidly diving. The rope at the end of the whaling harpoon was tightly fastened to the sturdy main mast of this two-masted sailing ship.

Even at this moment, he had not given up on hunting that white giant whale.

The rope "whoosh whoosh whoosh" swiftly shortened...

"Be careful, hold onto the ship!" the First Mate reminded the crew to brace for the imminent impact.

The next moment, the entire sailing ship was violently jerked by a tremendous force.

It tilted almost 45 degrees to the left, but fortunately, the barrels of whale oil at the bottom of the hold served perfectly as ballast, preventing the whaling ship from capsizing directly.

However, before Fisher could feel relieved, he heard a loud crack in his ears.

The main mast of the "Fish Spear" had been... snapped!

The last section of the rope tied to it was inevitably dragged into the water, and the white whale, which had broken the main mast of the sailing ship, regained its "freedom" with the whaling harpoon on its body.

Moooo—

At this moment, the faces of the sailors on the whaling ship were full of despair.

Losing the main mast was tantamount to losing most of the ship’s power, and would this already insane whale give them a chance to repair the mast?

Without keeping them waiting long, the giant whale soon gave its answer.

The sea beneath the ship churned and roared violently, rushing to both sides along the ship’s sides.

It seemed even they had gained consciousness, foreseeing the imminent danger, desperately trying to flee the whaling ship.

And the giant whale, already deeply submerged, began accelerating from hundreds of meters underwater. Its robust body stirred the water, and the over two hundred-ton giant beast surged towards... the bottom of the "Fish Spear" like an arrow off a bowstring!

The massive sea above its head was easily parted, posing no obstacle to it.

The next second.

Boom!

Amidst the explosive roar, the sailors on the ship, regardless of whether they held onto the ship or not, were swept away by an irresistible mighty force in an instant.

"Ah!"

"Help—!"

The "Fish Spear," bearing the brunt of the impact, had its keel snapped directly. With a tail flip, the giant whale broke it into two, toppling it with a crash.

In an instant, all the gains from a year at sea were gone!

However, the surviving sailors from the collision should not worry about the year’s harvest, but their own... lives.

A whaler emerged from the water, struggling to swim towards a nearby broken plank.

But before his fingertips could touch that plank, a giant mouth with rows of sharp teeth had already come crashing down behind him!

"Ah—!"

The terrified scream abruptly stopped.

The unknown type of white giant whale was evidently more vengeful than normal animals, even catching up to and directly killing the sailors who had already fallen into the water.

When the "Storm Horn," en route to the Tyrone Kingdom, passed by.

They witnessed such a bloody massacre!

Even from a considerable distance, the group, noticing the commotion at sea, had already gathered at the bow.

"It seems to be a ferocious demonized creature!

The whaling ship is truly unlucky to encounter an opponent they can’t possibly resist.

Just unsure if this large white whale has achieved stable reproduction, becoming a new species of demonized creatures?"

Milan’s streak of bad luck was about to end in a few days, and his mental state had improved significantly recently, already recovering from the shadow of the "Angel Descent."

Of course, he wasn’t gloating over others who were worse off than him, just voicing his conjecture to himself.

"This might not be a coincidence."

Ambrose, still in full armor beside him, spoke with a slight frown.

Actually, Aiven’s seabirds had already sent back images of whaling ship activity from dozens of kilometers away.

But since the "Storm Horn" was already sailing at full speed, even if Aiven wanted to save the whalers, he was helpless.

At this time, hearing Ambrose seem to know some secrets, he couldn’t help but be curious: "Is there something weird about this?"

Ambrose didn’t deliberately hide anything either. Although it was internal church information, it didn’t involve secrets exclusive to the church and wasn’t confidential.

"This sea is called the Atreid Sea and is the favored domain of the ancient Black Sea Sea God Hipponeo...."

The Atreid Sea is somewhat special in the entire Black Sea, with very good climate and abundant fishery resources.

Moreover, it is not controlled by any modern country, so fishing boats from all nations can freely come and go. Logically, it should be a very famous fishing ground.

But on the contrary, very few fishing boats dare to come here to fish.

Legend has it.

This is actually the birthplace of the ancient Black Sea Goddess Hipponeo, who is capricious, and it is protected by Her divine power, allowing it to eternally enjoy peace and prosperity.

However, because the residents who once lived here (mainly fishermen) committed acts against the Divine Spirit (see Chapter 239 Sea Witch), this sea area was blessed but simultaneously cursed!

Any act of fishing here would anger the Goddess, and the final result is inevitably to be swallowed by the sea and eaten by fish!

So the residents living nearby, no matter how hungry, would never fish in this sea area.

Only desperate gamblers and outsiders who see nothing but whale oil would dare to challenge the ancient legend, regardless of their lives.

Of course, looking at the current situation, they obviously lost their gamble....

"It’s just unexpected that this ancient Sea God, though sealed, still possesses the minimum power to maintain the curse."

Ambrose related to Aiven the past and legends of the Sea Witch, recorded in ancient church documents.

Her origins, the eight-hundred-year span submerged in the Black Sea..., until she was sealed over three hundred years ago, leading to the arrival of the Great Navigation era!

"For this former Black Sea Sea God.

Suffering such a tragic past, there indeed is reason to take any retaliatory actions.

Yet... ultimately she blocked the path of human exploration."

Though the listeners felt sympathy for the ancient Sea God Hipponeo’s plight, standing from a human perspective, if they were decision makers, over three hundred years ago, they would certainly have made the same decision!

Witnessing such a myth-like story firsthand was indeed fascinating for Aiven, who had never been beyond Ilya and Phaletis’s borders.

Strictly speaking.

This cross-country mission marks Aiven’s first step beyond his home’s basin, and many mysteries like the Atreid Sea await him in this splendid, magical ocean.

As they spoke, the "Storm Horn" had already sailed into the sea area where the "tragedy" had just occurred.

Just when Aiven hesitated whether to interfere with what might be divine Punishment, perhaps realizing this battleship was not to be trifled with,

Moo-howl—

With a long wail, the white giant whale, sensing trouble, plunged into the water and disappeared.

Ultimately, it spared the remaining survivors.

Uh, more precisely, only two people.

One was Fisher, the First Mate, deeply affected, with vacant eyes, having lost companions, relatives, and career.

The other was Pipps, a gambler who, even after being rescued onto the ship, kept mumbling incoherently, crying out, "Forgiveness! Hipponeo! Great! Goddess!..." and other words.

Seeing their state, Aiven lost interest in questioning.

No matter the reason they came to this blessed yet cursed sea area to hunt whales, it had nothing to do with him, so he dismissively ordered:

"Prepare them a place to stay, and let them disembark once we reach Nisk!"

Aiven’s words brought a spark of life to Fisher’s eyes.

The former First Mate seemed only now to realize he was saved, and with slow movements, he bowed deeply in Aiven’s direction, then followed the sailor away like a puppet.

The "Storm Horn" set sail again, continuing its journey towards Tyrone Kingdom.

The Atreid Sea once again returned to its usual serenity and harmony.

Just after a long time.

Amidst the rolling waves, a pair of extremely beautiful eyes suddenly opened within the snowy white spray, gazing coldly and mercilessly in the direction of the "Storm Horn" and the Tyrone Kingdom.

.....

The following journey was smooth and peaceful.

Most of Aiven’s time was spent in a specially modified laboratory aboard the ship, engaged in apprentice-level study and research.

Occasionally, he would come out to interact with Milan and the others, do some fishing, practice swordsmanship, and sometimes, when in high spirits, personally showcase his culinary skills.

Take swordsmanship sparring for example.

Even among the most basic sailor group, three Lucky Ones each week could receive swordsmanship guidance from the captain.

And thanks to Aiven’s substantial experience with concocting potions during this period, he often casually offered a few bottles as rewards for outstanding performance.

Upon experiencing the rate of progress before and after boarding the "Storm Horn," the newly joined members realized with surprise:

The crew qualification aboard the "Storm Horn," the most valuable thing might not be a bright future but a chance to genuinely become Extraordinary!

This was something they wouldn’t even dare imagine before becoming official officers.

The already extremely positive and proactive attitude and cohesion soared unprecedentedly.

Aiven’s most direct feeling was that the ship’s crew members not only did not slack off like on other ships.

But were also as if energized, activating every bit of their initiative, making Aiven’s command of this battleship seamless, as if it were alive.

Such a situation was easy to understand, no matter which world, employees’ thoughts are simple: "Don’t talk to me about ideals, my ideal is not having to work, so let’s only talk about money!"

Therefore, Aiven never discussed ideals with his crew members (uh, occasional Spirit interference doesn’t count).

Aiven had concluded that every captain has their own command style.

Some turn every crew member into a machine part, simple and efficient; others boldly delegate authority, allowing professionals to fully exercise their roles.

And Aiven naturally has his own.

Generous distribution of spoils, swordsmanship guidance, personal rewards (potions, etc.) are uniquely his strongest management methods!