Chapter 295. Island Crisis
At this moment, the sight of the Fhtagnists, clad in their black robes and surrounded by the terrifying Deep Dwellers, created a bizarre yet strangely harmonious scene.
How did those people turn into that? Are you still considered humans? Dipp pondered to himself.
Just as he was deep in thought, black, tainted bubbles suddenly appeared in the waters, and three elders appeared before him.
Under the watchful gazes of the naked Deep Dwellers, the two groups stopped and began their negotiation.
"Humans, what do you want?" an elder asked. His voice was hoarse yet ear-piercing, and that was even after being filtered once by the water.
The voice of the Fhtagnists sounded no better. As usual, there seemed to be a mouthful of thick phlegm stuck in their throat. Through the water, their words became even more indistinct. Emerging from n0v@lbin☆, this material harbors clandestine details.
"We've run into some trouble, and we now need your help."
"What kind of trouble?"
Hearing the elder's question, visible anger surfaces on the face of the leading Fhtagnist.
"Some deluded cultists falsely accused us. They claimed that the destruction of the Albion Isles was done by our God," the leader said.
"Ridiculous! If the Great One really awakened from His slumber, the existence of the entire sea would be dependent on just a single thought of His!" another elder exclaimed.
"Those heretics must pay for their actions!" the Fhtagnist leader shouted.
"Are you planning to attack the Divine Light Grand Cathedral? Are you trying to instigate an endless divine war?"
"It's not that significant of a problem. I don't want a direct confrontation with them at this point, which is why we've come to you."
"Sea monsters attacking islands are rare, but they have happened before. If it just so happens to be the territory of the Divine Light Order, it could be considered purely coincidental," the Fhtagnist leader hinted.
"Where?"
"My spy on Hope Island told me that the supposed Light God up there is nothing but a fake. Take over Hope Island first, and then annihilate that light source."
"As fellow brethren of the Great One, we can assist you. But what would be our compensation?"
At this point, Dipp wasn't listening any longer. His mind was a tumultuous sea of shock and disbelief.
No!!! Newbound City lies right above Hope Island. Captain and I went through so much hardship to discover that island. I can't just let them destroy it! Dipp thought as he clenched his fists tightly.
Tobba suddenly sprawled out and laid his head on Charles' table. He looked up at Charles with his eyes wide and glittering like that of a child.
"One story for one question! You promised me that before," Tobba reminded.
Initially, Charles didn't want to entertain him, but Tobba's persistent nagging annoyed him to no end.
"You just want a story, huh? Listen up. This is a story about a woman named Anna..."
As Charles concluded the brief story, Tobba's face had turned pale, and his facial features were scrunched up in fear.
"That's so terrifying..." Tobba muttered. "This story is too terrifying."
In a state of panic, he clutched the mouse tightly to his chest and ran away.
Charles took out a bottle of liquor from one of the drawers and took a deep swig. Even since he watched the video on the tablet, Tobba's words had been like a thorn in his side. He wanted to pry out more information from Tobba himself, but he had failed every single time.
"Why couldn't you speak properly?! What's with the mystery?!" Charles cursed with a hint of frustration and slammed the bottle down on the table.
Although he and the Pope were mutually suspicious of each other, they were still in a cooperative relationship with no direct conflict of interest.
He couldn't possibly be overly cautious of the Pope just because of a cryptic warning from Tobba, could he? What if Tobba from the past era had ulterior motives? Bad people wouldn't have the words I'm bad stamped on their foreheads.
Many different speculations entered Charles' mind before they flickered into oblivion a few moments later. He felt extremely agitated by the unclear situation and couldn't decide how to deal with it.
Feeling restless and troubled, he headed toward the deck for some fresh air. Upon reaching the deck, he noticed that someone was already there. It was one of his sailors, Weister.
Weister was squatting down and coughing intermittently as he smoked.
The moment Weister spotted Charles, he quickly stood up.
"Governor, sir!" Weister greeted with respect.
"Why are you smoking that?" Charles asked as he gestured with his index finger toward the cigarette pinched between Weister's fingers.
"I heard from the other sailors that smoking this can help alleviate fatigue, so I was trying it out," Weister answered.
Charles looked at the dark circles under Weister's eyes and understood instantly. The young man was probably suffering from insomnia.
Being a crew member on a ship presented its unique set of challenges.
The first hurdle was always seasickness. Seasickness was an extremely unpleasant sensation, but one could only endure it, and the symptoms would gradually lessen over time.
The second one was the mental strain. Before even talking about the monsters lurking in the dark waters, just spending one or two months confined to a ship only sixty-five meters long was unbearable for most people.
This was precisely why sailors needed a way to vent their psychological stress.