Chapter 297. Attacked
The blip on the sonar vanished, and everyone heaved sighs of relief. The identity of that colossal creature didn't matter at all. What mattered was the fact that it was gone. Every crew member didn't want to encounter anything beneath the surface, especially when they were so close to the enigmatic and eerie seafloor. Embark on a quest to the commencement at n0v#lbin★
"Turn the lights on and keep moving forward," Charles ordered.
The Narwhale's propellers soon came to life. This time, the sonar remained quiet until Charles finally found the pitch-black chasm. The chasm was directly behind the stairwell Charles had once explored. It could be seen if one were to just turn a corner, but Charles obviously hadn't noticed it until now.
The ballast tanks were flooded to the brim, and the Narwhale sank slowly into the chasm. Soon, the Narwhale arrived at the location where Charles' diving suit had succumbed to the pressure.
Charles could even see the space beneath Door 15, which was now filled with seawater. A variety of items from beyond Door 15 floated out as the Narwhale went deeper, eventually entering the massive dark tunnel.
"Captain, this hole looks like it was dug out by something," Feuerbach pointed out.
Charles looked out and saw huge claw marks on the tunnel walls that he hadn't noticed last time.
"Get your sharks to spread out and act as our sentries, just in case," Charles ordered.
Feuerbach nodded and ran toward the decompression chamber. Soon, the red sharks orbiting the submarine spread out to surround the Narwhale. The sailors also took their posts at the periscopes.
They were both curious and afraid as they vigilantly looked around for things the sonar couldn't pick up.
The air within the submarine felt so oppressive that it was palpable, but the Narwhale remained steadfast in its descent into the depths of the dark tunnel.
Weister decided to rest his strained eyes for a bit. He glanced at the second-hand pocket watch he had bought and saw that it had only been a few minutes since their descent.
"Really? It felt like it has been at least thirty minutes since we started our descent," Weister muttered to himself. He turned and found the First Mate staring intently at him.
Startled, Weister hurriedly returned to the periscope and focused on keeping tabs on the water outside.
Boom!
A muffled noise echoed, and everyone trembled as the explosion swept past them.
Charles looked up and found that the gaping maw had vanished as if he had imagined it.
Was I imagining it? Charles frowned. No, it can't be. It's not just me. Everyone else saw it, so it can't be just a figment of my imagination!
Charles quickly moved the searchlights around, and he smiled coldly upon seeing a cloud of red mist in the distance. He hadn't imagined the attack; the unknown creature simply had the ability to move instantaneously, similar to teleportation.
The attack had scared everyone witless. They all gasped heavily for air, especially the sailors who had launched a desperate run for the hatch, afraid that even getting into the ship a beat slower meant getting captured by the creature.
"Calm down, everyone. That thing has gotten injured by our torpedoes. It probably won't come back, so let's keep going. I'm coming along this time. My life is worth more than yours, and I'm not even scared, so don't be afraid. Let's go."
Charles quickly donned a diving suit and entered the sea with Feuerbach. Since even their captain was unafraid, the sailors had no choice but to go back.
Charles had made the decision to join the sailors because he knew that there was no way the terrified sailors would go back to the sea unless their captain were to lead them himself.
Indeed, the sailors' fear and nervousness were assuaged by Charles working alongside them. The seven sailors and Feuerbach's sharks resumed their search among the purple mycelium.
Perhaps the creature had truly been wounded by the torpedoes, as the group encountered no anomalies even after an extended period of time. After their lunch break, the seven sailors went back into the water in the afternoon.
Their afternoon search went swimmingly. A sailor was waving at Charles, and Charles rushed toward the sailor. They brushed the mycelium aside and saw a dilapidated steel box covered in rust.
Charles recognized it at first glance—it was a safe. He promptly told the others to stand back using hand gestures before pulling out his Dark Blade from his drop leg holster. He then thrust his Dark Blade into the safe in an attempt to open it.
An ear-piercing shriek echoed, and even the seawater couldn't muffle the noise, prompting the nearby sailors to move even farther away.
Charles didn't mind their retreat and focused on cutting the safe open.
All of a sudden, the shadow of a hand loomed over Charles, and the hand moved quickly toward the crown of Charles' head.
Charles' hand went up reflexively, and he thrust the Dark Blade toward the oncoming hand.