Chapter 338: The Strange Sea |
Kaorgli was a major city that had existed for less than a hundred years, yet both its infrastructure and population density far surpassed those of the current capital of the Kema Duchy.
Moreover, the city was filled with bizarre and unheard-of things—even Captain Harry’s airship was nothing out of the ordinary there.
However, settling down in Kaorgli was extremely difficult. One had to pass a series of evaluations and pay a hefty sum of money, and even wizard apprentices were not exempt from these requirements.
Bayton Academy was only open free of charge to true wizards and those above.
“If it’s just a short stay?” Saul asked.
“Then you only need to pay this amount. But regular inspections will still be required.” Pound gestured a number to Saul with his fingers.
Saul immediately abandoned the idea of making Kaorgli his next stop.
As they conversed, the city walls of Bluewater Bay were already in sight. Yet Saul still hadn’t seen any “blue water”—not even black water.
“Isn’t Bluewater Bay a coastal city?”
Pound opened the wide carriage window and pointed out the direction to Saul. “If you want to go to the coast, just follow that road and head further south.”
Listening to Pound’s account, Saul gradually furrowed his brow. “If no one’s lived near the coast for so long, why are there still ships docked at the harbor?”
Pound’s expression turned bitter. “Because it’s cheap, sir. But in the past couple of years, fewer and fewer ships have been willing to dock at Bluewater Bay. Times have grown harder.”
Saul glanced at Pound’s ten fingers. “Harder?”
“Haha...” Pound gave an awkward tug at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t actually do business in this area. I just come by occasionally to visit my wife and children who live here.”
Naturally, Saul wasn’t interested in Pound’s personal affairs. He had kept the merchant around primarily to learn about the soul tides.
“How much do you know about the soul tides?”
“A lot, sir.”
Pound’s eyes lit up—he knew this was his chance to prove himself!
…
In the end, Saul didn’t enter the main district of Bluewater Bay. He asked Pound for a horse and silently turned off halfway down the road, taking a small path that led to the bay.
Though the wealthy merchant Pound regretted not being able to invite Saul to his home, he was, more than anything, relieved by his departure.
He urged his men to hurry up—he wanted to get home quickly. But just as the carriage sped up, they saw a crowd of nobles waiting at the city gate.
“Sir!” an aging servant outside the carriage called out with a nervous tremble. “Viscount Elaf, Madam Shetley, and Mister Odo are requesting your presence.”
Pound paused for a moment, then let out a long sigh.
…
By the time Saul reached the coast, dusk had already settled.
A thick, heavy layer of clouds loomed suddenly into view. The skies by the shore were still clear, but over the sea, dark clouds pressed down like a looming curtain.
It looked as if a blade had cleaved the world in two, dividing land and sea into starkly separate realms.
Only the white-foamed waves crossed the boundary occasionally—like desperate hands struggling to climb ashore, only to retreat in despair as the unyielding beach showed no response.
And this wasn’t just poetic imagery. Saul narrowed his eyes. Between the ebb and flow of the tide, he occasionally glimpsed pale white arms, fingers twisted in grim contortions, reaching for the shore—only to be dashed apart by the waves.
“There’s definitely something wrong with the water here.”
In his previous life, the sea had been something that brought peace and clarity. But the ocean before him gave off an ever-present sense of dread.
It felt less like he was standing at the shore watching the sea, and more like he was drowning—on the verge of being pulled under forever.
Even the horizon, where sea met sky, was distorted. Pale gray and deep ink-blue merged and devoured each other in a grotesque dance.
The skyline wasn’t a straight line—it was a warped, squirming contour.
Saul only gazed for a short while before his soul body began to stir with unease. He lowered his head, no longer looking toward the horizon, and focused on what lay ahead.
“No wonder ordinary people would rather spend a fortune relocating an entire city. If you had to stare at this every day while living by the sea, nine out of ten would go mad.”
He stood on a cliff some distance from the water, preparing to fly down for a closer look at the sea. But then, amidst the crashing waves, he heard another sound.
It was the scraping of shoes against sand and shells, along with the unmistakable sound of people moving against the tide.
Saul looked around and finally spotted a dozen or so figures on a flat patch of sand beneath the cliff.
The group was a mix of men and women, old and young. Each had a thick hemp rope tied around their waist, with the other end anchored to a large stone onshore.
Their eyes were all covered with black cloth. They stood on the wet sand, some wading knee-deep into the sea.
Every couple of steps, they’d stop, bending down to grope in the water or sand.
Each time they bent, they looked incredibly tense—knees bent and stretched, as if they weren’t just leaning down, but preparing to leap.
“Are they… foraging at the tide?”
Using a flight spell, Saul silently leapt from the cliff and landed a hundred meters from the group.
He took a few steps toward the waves, observing the sand where the water had swept over, but found nothing of note.
“There’s barely any shells or seaweed here. But there also aren’t any footprints. Which means the foragers didn’t dig it clean—this place is simply barren of life.”
At that moment, Little Algae suddenly emerged from the back of Saul’s neck, twisting around like a nimble little snake, peering in all directions.
“What have you spotted now?”
Little Algae immediately turned its head toward the sea.
“Is it the scent of death?” Saul wondered, taking another couple of steps toward the water.
Suddenly, a terrified scream rang out from the group.
He quickly turned to look—and saw one of the men shoot upright, then spin around and run toward the shore without a word.
He only stopped once he’d reached the area beyond the reach of the waves. Though it was only a few steps, he was panting heavily, bent over in exhaustion.
Clearly, he had been thoroughly frightened.
Though Saul had only turned to look after the scream, his sharp reflexes and keen eyesight allowed him to clearly see what had startled the man.
It was a pair of pale white hands—hidden in the equally pale foam of the waves.
In an instant, those hands had solidified and grasped the man’s wrist as he groped in the water.
That was what had sent him fleeing in terror.
After the man escaped, the rest of the group straightened up and paused in silence. They turned their blindfolded heads in the man’s direction, clearly shaken. But after several tense breaths, none followed him ashore.
They seemed hesitant, torn, unwilling.
After another minute of stillness, the first person bent down again to continue searching the sand. Then the second, then the third...
Every face was expressionless. Even the children were the same.
And the man who had run off, after resting a moment with his hands on his knees, actually straightened the rope around his waist again. Once he confirmed the knot to the stone was still secure, he walked back into the water.
“There must be something in the sea that they can sell.” Saul decided to walk closer to them and ask directly.
Just then, another incident occurred.
A young boy suddenly slipped and fell into the water. He struggled to stand, but somehow ended up crawling a few steps deeper into the sea.
After swallowing a mouthful of seawater, he frantically grabbed the rope at his waist, trying to determine which direction led to shore.
But when he pulled the rope taut and crawled a few more steps along its length, the water grew even deeper.
The part of his face not covered by the blindfold twisted in panic—clearly, he had no idea why this was happening.
(End of Chapter)