The capsized ship contained a large amount of sea salt, but as it gathered into People of Salt and rushed outwards, the quantity of salt inside the ship rapidly diminished.

There was no need to dig, because after waiting a few minutes, the armour could easily access the lower deck. Inside, the space was vast, with many empty barrels scattered across the floor. It was unclear what they once held.

Suna, in control of the armour, searched room by room and found several aged provisions: dried meat, dehydrated vegetables, and even mummified humans, all as brittle as dead leaves. 

The deceased individuals had seemingly different roles. Some wore faded cloth garments, while others were clad in rusted armour, weapons still in hand. There were unnatural wounds on many of the bodies, some beheaded, others cleaved at the waist, or missing limbs. It was clear that a battle had taken place aboard the ship.

Both sides of the vessel were outfitted with cannons, but all were rusted and likely no longer functional. There was also a large hole over two metres wide in the bottom of the ship, this must have been where the flooding occurred.

Suna crouched with the armour and discovered a desiccated strip of flesh in the thin salt layer on the deck. It clung tightly to the hull and even penetrated into it. Though only about as thick as a baby’s arm in its dried state, if fully hydrated, it could easily be several times larger.

“Something came in through the breach,” Suna muttered.

Her search continued, and she soon found a special room with a shattered crystal container. Had it been intact, it would’ve stood half a metre tall, with four ridges adorned in gold. Crystal shards were still fastened to hooks on the wall, it had clearly once been some sort of crafted device, now destroyed.

Inside the same room, she found several severely desiccated human corpses. Along with the broken-down door, it all pointed to one conclusion: a mutiny had occurred aboard the ship. Then the hull was breached, seawater flooded in, and some dangerous foreign entity made its way inside. The final survivors took refuge in this room, but under the influence of the Salt Wedge, they all dried up into husked corpses… That was Suna’s assessment.

Suddenly, the armour’s visual feed vanished entirely. 

Yang Yi was on the move, he had finished preparations and was descending to the lowest level of the cavern. With the distance growing, Suna could no longer access the armor’s vision, let alone control it.

"I’ve lost the signal!" Suna messaged him privately.

"Yeah, I’m almost at the bottom too," Yang Yi replied.

"Make sure you bring everything back from the armor, especially the books."

"Got it!"

"And hey, if you die, drop me a coordinate. I’ll come fish you out and turn you into a specimen."

"You won’t get the chance!"

Yang Yi closed the message window and leapt down, slamming into the surface like a meteor. It was actually the interior of the decaying whale.

A fierce wind greeted him, carrying traces of sea salt, but it had little effect on the soaked, werewolf-transformed Yang Yi. After all, standing three metres tall and gripping the massive Ironbreaker greatsword, he was far too heavy for a mere gust to move.

Large swathes of sea salt were swept away.

Once the wind had died down, only a few Salt People remained around Yang Yi. As long as he didn’t get too close, the Salt People would instead turn their attention to the flesh-covered walls, attacking them like miners digging in a tunnel.

Even if he was unfortunate enough to catch one’s attention, Yang Yi only needed to smash it apart with his Ironbreaker or flintlock, then leave. By the time the Salt Person reformed, he’d already moved on.

They didn’t pursue specific targets.

As long as their numbers weren’t overwhelming and there was space to manoeuvre, Yang Yi could move freely through the decaying whale’s interior using his agility.

Before long, he reached the capsized ship and slipped in through the large hole in its hull, reuniting with the armour. Since there was little sea salt left inside the ship, it could serve as a temporary safe zone.

Yang Yi assessed his condition. All his vital stats were healthy, both stamina and blood were above 90. His weight, however, had dropped slightly. Running all the way here had inevitably caused some salt to accumulate on his body, drawing out moisture.

His wolf fur was nearly dry, and salt crystals had formed along it. He patted off the salt, drank a large quantity of freshwater, and rehydrated his body before peeking deeper into the cave. That time, he switched from his blindfold to the Third Eye, dramatically expanding his field of vision, it was crystal clear. Roughly 300 metres ahead, there were five branching paths, and one of them had a noticeably higher concentration of Salt People!

Yang Yi directed the armour forward and followed closely behind.

At first, he could still charge through, the Salt People were mostly preoccupied with attacking the flesh-covered walls on either side. But as they delved deeper, the density of Salt People grew. Using precious freshwater to drive them off was no longer viable.

Each gust of wind carried copious amounts of sea salt. Yang Yi had to ration his freshwater to avoid dehydrating to death and took out the Crystal Greatshield to block the salt-laden airflow.

“This isn’t going to work much longer,” Yang Yi assessed.

The path ahead was completely coated in salt. Even if the wind cleared it momentarily, new salt would reappear at an alarming rate. If he stepped onto it in his physical body, he’d likely be instantly drained of moisture, and with the Salt People multiplying rapidly, while the flesh of the tunnel walls was beginning to shrivel, Yang Yi decided to change tactics.

During the brief lulls when wind dispersed the Salt People, he climbed up to the ceiling of the tunnel. The walls were made of fresh, living flesh. When his wolf claws pierced the surface, white fluid oozed out.

The salt and Salt People were confined to the ground and walls, the ceiling was largely untouched, and thus safe.

As long as he dug his claws into the ceiling, Yang Yi could crawl upside down and continue his advance. The only danger was the oncoming wind — if he got blown off, things could get dire.

The armour sprinted across the salted ground below. 

Yang Yi, inverted, climbed steadily above, gripping the ceiling flesh with claws.

His speed began to slow.

The airflow was intensifying.

Several hundred meters deeper in, the surrounding walls, whether shrivelled or blood-red, began to pulse, expanding and contracting rhythmically.

Finally, Yang Yi saw the exit not far ahead. 

It was a closing and opening tunnel, mostly kept sealed. He could faintly sense the whale’s body swelling like it was being inflated. Then the hole would open, unleashing a chaotic torrent of wind and sea salt into the tunnel.

It likely marked some kind of pressure chamber, and the whale’s core was probably beyond it. But pushing through the final hundred metres would be brutal, as it meant he would have to charge into the gale head-on, which was close to impossible.

Yang Yi hesitated for just a moment, then drew his Roaring Flintlock.

‘Don’t get stuck in rigid thinking. If there’s no opening... make one.’

He waited for the tunnel to close, then pulled the trigger, activating Roar Mode!

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