January 11, Year 435

We have finally arrived. All honor belongs to the Great One. Once I bring the sacred artifact back, I will be able to go through baptism and become a true servant of our Lord!

This was the last diary entry. Judging from the contents, it was clear that the captain was a follower of the Fhtagn Covenant. It was not hard to guess that the Fhtagn cultists had sent their own members before seeking assistance from Charles.

Charles then instructed his crew to search the other ships, and the situation was more or less the same. The captains' diaries all recorded their last moments of excitement.

Just as Charles was stumped and could not figure out this weird situation, the skinny chef, Fred, handed him a diary—the last piece of the puzzle.

"Captain. Take a look at this. It's a little different."

Taking the diary in his hand, Charles flipped the pages, and his pupils shrunk to the size of a needlepoint. Disordered words filled the pages of the cream-colored diary.

Careful! Don't go to the island! Own crew!! They are not human! They want to eat us! I don't want to be eaten! I want to go back to the island! Safe! Island!

The illogical phrases mixed in a chaotic manner indicated the writer's abnormal state of mind. Everyone who saw the diary entry felt a chilling sensation down their spine as they wondered what this captain could have experienced.

Gulp.

Dipp swallowed down his saliva and retracted his head. He warily scanned his companions whom he had spent days and nights with. The diary spoke of dangers from their own crew. Did that mean there were monsters lurking among them now?

Charles knew what Dipp was thinking and tapped the latter's head with the diary. "Don't overthink things, we haven't even set foot on the island."

"Captain, are we still going?" Dipp's voice was laced with hesitation.

"Of course." Charles' expression became resolute. No matter what dangers awaited them on the island, they could not block his path home. Even if he had to face death, he would rather die on the way back.

S.S. Mouse slowly approached the sandy beach, and the rusty anchor was thrown into the water. The black smoke from the smokestacks slowly dissipated.

After lowering the wooden pinnace[1] into the water, the seven men on board steered it toward the island.

As they approached the increasingly ominous island, Charles opened a wooden crate and distributed flintlock rifles and revolvers. At the bottom of the crate were bundles of tightly wrapped gunpowder packs.

He had specially procured more firearms in preparation for this mission. With the weapons in their hands, everyone felt more composed.

The seven muscular men armed with weapons leaped off the boat and walked across the beach toward the distant forest.

Well, they called it a 'forest,' but that was only for lack of a better word. There was no single green leaf in sight. The gnarled branches seemed to be covered with a thick layer of rust, and the tree trunks appeared swollen and diseased in places, with some bulging out while others abruptly caving in. Walking through it gave them the eerie sensation that they were traversing the inside of a human body.

The crew members knew that their mission objective was a golden Fhtagn statue. Using the fire torches in their hands as illumination, they searched tirelessly for anything that glimmered in the surroundings, but to no avail.

After walking for some time, they came across a scattered trail of footprints. The sight eased their anxiety slightly. After all, a traveled path meant a safer path.

Perhaps their instincts were right. The group of seven walked for nearly two hours without any unusual occurrences.

Feeling hungry, they decided to stop and fill their stomachs first. They gathered a bunch of branches and lit a campfire. The tense atmosphere gradually eased.

The smell of toasted white bread filled the air as the crew members ate and speculated about what might have happened to the missing individuals.

"Do you think monsters ate them? Monsters like those in the sea?"

"Doesn't seem likely. Some of those on the ship are Fhtagnists. You know as well, creatures from the sea rarely attack them. I think it's something on this island itself."

Charles did not join the discussion. Rather, he was on guard and vigilantly scanning the surroundings. This strange forest was incredibly peculiar. Apart from the sounds they produced, it was absolute silence. Not even the chirping of insects or the calls of birds could be heard.

The absence of any danger was also strange in itself. Charles had read many recorded accounts from Explorers. They all shared the same understanding: There is not a single safe island in the Subterranean Sea. The current islands inhabited by humans had been conquered and secured by eliminating the inherent dangers with great effort.

Taking the Coral Archipelago, for example—when humans first came into contact with the archipelago, they realized that it was a living island. More than twenty exploration ships formed a fleet and waged a fierce battle against the gigantic coral. Stories had been passed down that many lives were sacrificed in the war before they managed to kill off the island.

"Enough talk. Hurry up and finish eating, and we continue our search. The longer we stay here, the more dangerous it becomes."

Hearing Charles' words, the crew members ceased their idle chatter and hastened their eating speed. After a brief respite to regain their strength, Charles and his group resumed their journey.

Dipp ran up to Charles and asked in a low volume, "Captain, I heard that when we get back, we will be getting a bigger ship. Really?"

"Yeah."

"Awesome! Then I can be like the boatswains on other big ships and be in charge of dozens of sailors. No more being in charge of less than half a sailor like now."

Charles threw a smirk at the enthusiastic young lad. How great to be young when one could always envision the most positive outcome in every situation…. But indeed, he ought to recruit more sailors when he returned. S.S Mouse was a small ship, but it was still rather absurd for her to have no sailors at all.

Charles and his party continued on the same path that seemed to stretch with no end in sight. If not for the ever-changing patterns of the scattered footprints, Charles would have thought that they had been going in circles.

After another nearly three hours of walking, just as their legs were growing sore from fatigue, the forest suddenly cleared and revealed a stone structure entangled in brown vines before them.

The building appeared dilapidated from the outside, making it difficult to discern if it was a shrine or a church. The wooden door that should have been there was nowhere to be seen, with only a dark hole in its place.

Charles pulled Bandages over and pointed at the gloomy entrance.

"Is it in there?" Charles asked.

Bandages hesitated for a brief moment before answering with a nod, "It… should be… I'm not… certain… Sorry… My memory is not very good…"

Regardless, Charles decided to enter and take a look. At the very least, the footprints on the ground led straight to the entrance and were not the least bit sporadic. That was an indication of the absence of danger.

He turned to his second engineer and chef and said, "Let's go. The four of us will go in to take a look." James and Frey nodded simultaneously as they followed Charles' lead into the building.

The light from their torches illuminated the interior of the building. Compared to its run-down exterior, the inside was contrastingly clean and spacious. Not even a speck of dust could be seen on the smooth, red floor. However, the things on the walls sent shivers down one's spine.

The walls were adorned with layers of grotesque relief that depicted unimaginable, amalgamated creatures with their twisted forms entwined. These bizarre entities seemed to be a crossbreed between a starfish and an octopus, with a deformed body and one single eye.

From the body language conveyed through their contorted limbs, they seemed to be engaged in some sort of worship.

However, these nightmarish stone reliefs did not capture the trio's attention. All their gazes were fixed upon the golden statue placed in the middle of the room. The strange humanoid statue with tentacles was clearly Fhtagn, the god of Fhtagnists.