Chapter 199

Chapter 199

Evan nodded, understanding the key point. The risk of uncertainty is often tougher to handle than a clear, known danger. "So how do you usually handle it?"

"Simple, just use the cannons and the ship's speed," the old sailor said confidently. "This ship is equipped with four cannons, the Empire's latest models, and they pack a real punch. Those skeletons may not feel pain, but their bones can't withstand a cannon blast—one shot can blow a bunch of them to pieces. And as long as we pick up speed, they can't catch us in the water. Once we get out of the Dead Spirit Sea fast, we'll be safe."

"Do these skeletons have any special abilities? Like ranged attacks?" Evan pressed on, needing as many details as possible to get ready.

"No, none at all," the old sailor shook his head. "They just swing their bones around up close. Some don't even have weapons—they just claw at you. And they can't move well in the water—they just float on the surface. As long as we keep our distance, use the cannons to clear out the ones that get close, and speed through, we'll make it through safe and sound."

He paused and added, "I've been running this route for years and run into those skeletons a few times. We've always handled it this way, no problem. And with you two Supernaturals on board this time, even if something comes up, we can deal with it more reliably. Mr. Gray probably hired you as a precaution—escorting the young lady, an extra layer of security never hurts."

Evan understood.

The employer's caution wasn't over the top; the uncertainty of the Dead Spirit Sea was a real hidden danger. He looked out at the sea, which had seemed calm and harmless moments ago but now felt full of unknown danger. "How big is the Dead Spirit Sea?"

"Not too big, just about ten or so nautical miles," the old sailor said. "If the ship's fast enough, we'll cross it in no time. We usually keep an eye out—if we spot black fog up ahead, we speed up early to blast through it."

Just then, a maid's voice came from the deck, announcing that lunch was ready. Lillian had finished her picnic and was instructing the maid to pack up. Evan stood up and thanked the old sailor, "Thanks for all the info."

"Don't mention it. Out here, we've got to look out for each other," the old sailor said with a smile, picking up his fishing net again. "Don't worry, with us old salts and you two Supernaturals, this trip'll go smooth."

Evan nodded and turned to walk toward the center of the deck. Laura noticed him and approached, asking quietly, "Done with your rounds? How's the ship looking?"

"The ship's in great shape, and the crew's all seasoned pros," Evan replied, then lowered his voice to share what he'd learned from the old sailor about the Dead Spirit Sea.

Laura's face turned serious right away. "The Dead Spirit Sea? I didn't expect to run into something like that on this route."

"But don't worry too much," Evan said. "Those skeletons aren't strong, and the ship has cannons. As long as we prepare in advance and stay alert, we should get through safely."

Laura nodded slightly. "Yeah, better safe than sorry. I'll keep a closer eye on the water from now on, and you be ready to handle any emergencies."

With that understanding, they took positions on opposite sides of the deck, their eyes fixed intently on the sea ahead.

The sun was still bright, the sea breeze still gentle, but the atmosphere on the deck had subtly shifted. The relaxed mood was replaced by a quiet alertness. Lillian seemed to notice the change in their expressions and asked curiously, "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Nothing, miss," Laura said, turning with a gentle tone. "It's just that the waters up ahead are a little unusual. We're being extra careful to ensure your safety."

She didn't go into detail about the Dead Spirit Sea so she wouldn't scare Lillian.

Lillian nodded, half-understanding. Though curious, she didn't ask further. She walked to the edge of the deck and gazed at the distant sea, sunlight playing on her face, still carrying a hint of innocence.

Meanwhile, Evan and Laura stood like guardian statues on either side of the deck, their sharp eyes scanning every corner, awaiting the trial of the Dead Spirit Sea.

The sailboat continued to glide smoothly across the sea, cutting a white wake through the water. Seagulls still circled behind the ship. In the distance, a faint wisp of black fog began to appear on the horizon—the Dead Spirit Sea was drawing closer.

Captain Hock had shed his earlier ease. Standing in the wheelhouse, he called out loudly to the crew, "Everyone, listen up! The Dead Spirit Sea is ahead! Gunners, take your positions and be ready to fire! The rest of you, check the rigging and get the ship up to full speed!"

The crew sprang into action. The previously relaxed atmosphere vanished, replaced by a tense, orderly bustle.

The gunners rushed to the cannons, checking the gunpowder and shells to ensure they were ready to fire at a moment's notice. Those handling the rigging pulled hard on the ropes, adjusting the sails to the optimal angle. The ship's speed gradually increased, and the waves crashing against the hull grew more turbulent.

Evan prepared himself as well. A faint spiritual fluctuation rippled at his fingertips, his mental focus sharpened, ready to condense his control threads at any moment.

If those skeletons got close to the ship, he could strike directly with his spiritual threads, shattering their bones. Laura, meanwhile, gripped the hilt of her sword at her waist. Her silver knight's uniform gleamed coldly in the sunlight, her eyes sharp as an eagle's, fixed on the black fog ahead.

Startled by the sudden tension, Lillian instinctively hid behind Laura. "Miss Laura, what is that place?" Her voice trembled slightly, clearly frightened.

"Don't be afraid, miss. We're here," Laura said softly, shielding her. "It's just a special stretch of sea. We'll pass through it quickly."

The sailboat drew closer to the black fog. The faint mist flickered in and out of view under the sunlight, and scattered white fragments floated in the water—upon closer inspection, they were bones.

Evan's expression grew more solemn. He could sense a faint aura of death emanating from the black fog, not strong individually, but abundant in number.

"Prepare to fire!" Captain Hock's voice rang out again.

Just then, dozens of white skeletons emerged from the black fog. Some wielded bone swords, others bone clubs, floating on the sea surface and closing in on the sailboat. A sudden fight had broken out.