The storms and towering waves lay behind him now. What stretched out before Silas was a vast expanse of sea thick with fog.
Lit by the sun, the fog took on a pale gray-white hue, slowly billowing and unfurling, as though some living leviathan lay coiled across the surface of the water.
This was the Fog Sea, the largest and most mysterious of the Five Seas.
No one knew what caused the fog that lingered here year-round, nor how many secrets lay hidden within it.
Legends, ghost stories, uncanny monsters, buried treasure: all manner of unbelievable rumors spread from mouth to mouth, twisting and warping along the way.
Most of them were nothing but hearsay, though a small few would occasionally prove true.
It was said that a lost civilization called Newins lay sleeping on the seafloor here.
It was said that deep within the fog, beyond the safe shipping lanes, lurked beasts large enough to swallow an entire ship whole.
It was said that strange islands would sometimes appear out of nowhere in the middle of otherwise empty shipping lanes, and anyone bold enough to set foot on them would vanish along with the island itself...
"'Fog Sea.' Fitting name, really..."
Silas gazed out over the water, thinking to himself.
Hovering in midair, he took out his sea chart and checked it.
Since leaving Midpoint Island, he had followed the safe shipping lane the whole way, first reaching Port Boddo, then continuing west until he arrived at Seiros Island on the edge of the Raging Sea, before finally clearing that stretch of water shrouded in disaster and death entirely.
From his current position, flying northwest would bring him to the Fog Sea Islands. Flying straight ahead, on the other hand, would take him to Aroka Island.
The Sonia Sea was divided between the Kingdom of Loen and the Fusac Empire, while the Fog Sea fell within Intis's sphere of influence.
The Fog Sea Islands were its most important colony there, and Aroka Island was its westernmost colonial holding.
Silas quickly settled on his route. He wouldn't go to the islands in the northwest, but head straight west for Aroka.
Whoosh. A strong wind blew past, and he quickly adjusted his posture, flying onward into the fog-choked sea.
As he drew closer to the Fog Sea, visibility dropped steadily. At last he sank fully into the fog, his range of clear sight shrinking to only a few dozen meters; beyond that, nothing could be made out at all.
The waves rolled gently below. Though the wind still blew, it could not stir the endless fog that filled the entire sea.
Looking up, the sun was nothing more than a pale white outline.
Everything around him was utterly silent.
Perhaps it was only his imagination, but Silas felt as though something was watching him from beyond the fog.
Deep within the hazy fog, he caught the occasional flicker of something strange, gone again in an instant.
Ignore it. The matter at hand comes first.
He told himself, raising his guard, controlling the wind around his body, and pressing onward.
Compared to the plainly visible dangers of the Raging Sea, the true horror of the Fog Sea lay in what couldn't be seen.
For anyone sailing through it, the ever-present fog obscured their sight, and straying from the safe shipping lanes could lead to all manner of misfortune.
Every so often, Silas took out his sea chart and compass to check his position.
Thanks to the powerful abilities the Sailor Pathway granted at sea, even with the fog blocking his view, he could still find his bearings with nothing more than simple navigational instruments.
Silas pressed on at speed. Now and then he could still sense something watching him from deep within the fog, but he ignored it every time.
---
The Sonia Sea. Nas, capital of the Gargas Archipelago, known as the White City.
Klein, wearing the guise of the Craziest Hunter (black hair, brown eyes, a gaunt face with sharp, deep-set features that gave him a cold, merciless look), stepped off the passenger ship and onto the dock.
Whoo. A ship's horn blared. Pirate flags fluttered openly from vessels moored in the harbor, making no attempt to hide their allegiance.
Ships loaded with whale meat steamed in, puffing white vapor, the blood of those leviathans trickling from their holds into the water.
This was a colony of the Fusac Empire, famous for its whale meat.
Most of the buildings in this port city were built of stone, and since the local rock was mostly white, the place had earned the nickname "the White City."
Klein, expression grim, coat wrapped around him, walked on into the city.
He saw plenty of towering men gathered together drinking in broad daylight, knocking back the potent Lanti Proof as though it were water.
Broad, sturdily built women worked briskly at heavy labor, cursing out the drunkards from time to time.
Though it was already early March, the temperature on the island wasn't especially warm. Yet the drunks stood bare-chested in the cold wind, and the women's clothing was just as sparse.
Shouts in Fusacian rang out along the streets now and then, mixed with the sounds of brawling and gunfire.
Police in gray uniforms strolled past drinking, paying no mind to the gangsters and pirates locked in their turf wars.
Rough. Blunt. Savage. Fierce!
"No wonder they say this northern people might carry giant blood..."
Klein thought to himself, deeply impressed, tightening his coat without thinking.
He too ignored the brawls, walking straight on, past a church of the War God, past workshops where whales were butchered and rendered down for oil, until he reached Gray Amber Street and stepped into a general store called the Frenzied Whale Dance.
After exchanging passwords with the shopkeeper, he was handed a crystal ball.
He recited an incantation over it, then held it up before him. Within the crystal ball was a woman in a black wizard's robe, her eyes a deep purple so dark it was almost black, full of an air of mystery.
The Hermit, Cattelya.
"Gehrman Sparrow?"
On the other side of the crystal ball, the Admiral of Stars recognized Klein's disguised identity as well. "I didn't expect it would be you..."
The two of them had already been in contact through the Fool beforehand; this call was simply to nail down the details of the trip to the War of the Gods Ruins.
---
Silas flew on through the thick, heavy fog.
Suddenly his ears twitched, and he turned to look ahead. From somewhere far off, hidden behind the fog, came the faint rumble of machinery.
Another ship...?
It wasn't strange to find steamships out on the Fog Sea. This was public water, after all, sitting along a safe shipping route.
Even the disaster-ravaged Raging Sea saw a steady stream of ship traffic, so of course this far safer sea would too.
So Silas didn't think much of it. He simply climbed a little higher and kept flying forward.
He was, of course, far faster than any ordinary steamship, and it wasn't long before he caught up with the vessel rumbling along through the sea.
Wait. This doesn't look like an ordinary ship...
Silas frowned slightly, looking down at the ship as it came into clearer view.
A great vessel sheathed in iron armor was sailing through the fog-covered sea, white steam rising from its smokestacks and slowly melting into the fog around it.
Across its deck, painted white, sat row upon row of gun turrets with astonishingly large calibers, and numerous sailors moved about the deck, each going about their own duties.
It was a warship!