Chapter 103

As Caesar had previously mentioned, no one in the Mediterranean knew exactly where the so-called “Land of Dawn” was. The linguistic documents in Zhizhi’s possession also provided little explanation about that mysterious place. The only thing known was that to reach that supposedly unreachable land, one not only had to find the correct way to determine the direction forward but also had to pass through lands of extreme heat and cold.

In the past, many explorers who sought the “Land of Dawn” fell at this first hurdle. The rapid alternation between heat and cold caused them to quickly catch severe colds, which, once worsened, spread like the most terrifying plague throughout the fleet. Every day, countless crew members fell ill, and the seabed along the route to the Land of Dawn was littered with the wreckage of countless ships.

Only a handful of people had ever seen the sea monster that guarded the Land of Dawn, and none of them had returned alive.

The crew of the Wind Fury, however, seemed well-prepared for this—Rick had almost emptied all of Caesar’s treasure chests to exchange for enough pepper to last them a lifetime. At that time, pepper was a rare commodity, and a small bottle as thick as a finger could fetch a price of five gold coins. So when Rick started hauling large sacks of pepper onto the ship as if it were free, almost all the crew members were stunned.

Then came the cotton clothes, the necessary fresh water, enough kerosene for warmth, and the most breathable and comfortable summer clothing—

It was as if Christmas had come early. Every crew member of the Wind Fury who was willing to follow Caesar received a share of these luxuries they normally wouldn’t dare dream of.

…

On the third day of the Wind Fury’s voyage, after staying up all night listening to Zhizhi cry, Miguel finally managed to fall into an uneasy sleep just before dawn. In his dreams, he saw all sorts of things, both good and bad, but the only thing they had in common was that when the black-haired young man opened his eyes, he realized he couldn’t remember any of them.

Miguel was woken up by the heat.

Although he was in the captain’s cabin, which was much cooler than the deck, he couldn’t escape the stifling, salty air that rushed in through the open window—outside, the sun was blazing. Miguel squinted as he got up from the bed, and when he reached the window, he even thought he heard the chirping of cicadas.

Scratching his head, unable to bear the heat, Miguel peered out the window. Unsurprisingly, the pirates on the deck were still working. Most of them had stripped to the waist, and beads of sweat dripped from their hair and faces onto the deck, which was so hot it seemed to be smoking. Their skin was tanned to a deep black, with a thin layer of sweat glistening in the sunlight, making their skin appear even darker and more robust.

On the deck, reports of crew members suffering from heatstroke came in roughly every hour.

The heat was so intense that it was hard to believe it was already halfway through autumn.

“We’ve entered the Land of Extreme Heat,” a woman’s voice, devoid of much emotion, sounded behind the black-haired young man. Miguel turned around and, as expected, saw Zhizhi standing behind him. When she saw him turn, the ice in the girl’s expression melted slightly, and she pouted. “After sunset, we’ll encounter the Land of Extreme Cold. Once we pass through there, we’ll arrive.”

“That simple?” Miguel clearly didn’t believe it.

Sure enough, Zhizhi chuckled, her lips curling into a mocking smile. “Can’t handle the heat, huh? Let me tell you, the real show is yet to come. I’ve heard that the Land of Extreme Heat can get so hot it can ignite the ship’s deck—’The Heart of the Sun,’ someone once described it.”

What the hell?

Miguel stood frozen in place.

To save you, we have to go through this trial by fire and ice, Big Dog. Look at you, look at the mess you’ve gotten us into!

Zhizhi’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried on the sea breeze, reaching the ears of all the crew members on the deck. The people were shocked. The Wind Fury’s former navigator leapt onto the deck, leading a group of crew members who began shouting and splashing buckets of seawater onto the deck. Even though the seawater evaporated under the scorching sun, making the ship feel like hell, no one dared to complain. No matter how hot it got, no one wanted to burn their ship before finding their captain.

As more and more people succumbed to heatstroke, Bakir’s medical room finally became so overcrowded that it was almost bursting at the seams. Rick then led a group to clear out the bilge, which was much cooler than the deck above, and turned it into a temporary resting place for the crew members who couldn’t bear the heat.

“Just hang in there a little longer. It’ll get better once the sun sets,” Rick said, trying to reassure the crew members who were howling from the heat, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

Miguel crouched nearby, casually flipping over a bucket of seawater. The water inside splashed onto the deck, soaking the area in front of the black-haired young man that had almost dried out. “Guess what Caesar would say if he were here?”

“He’d tell us to shut up,” Rick said without looking up. “‘Your yelling is making me feel even hotter’—that kind of unreasonable, unsympathetic nonsense is his usual style.”

Miguel squatted on the deck and chuckled but said nothing.

“Right now, I think I might prefer the freezing cold of winter to this summer heat,” Rick said, picking up the empty wooden bucket Miguel had flipped over to stop it from rolling away. The red-haired first mate tossed the bucket, tied with a thick rope, into the sea, then hauled up another bucket of water and poured it over the spot Miguel had just soaked. “I wonder when the sun will set—will we even need those cotton coats we brought?”

In the end, the sea god proved to Rick that gods don’t screw around.

Blazing hot during the day, freezing cold at night.

…

As soon as the sun set, the temperature plummeted without any transition. The deck, which had been steaming with heat just moments ago, suddenly developed a thin layer of frost. The wooden buckets that still held seawater stopped sloshing as the water froze into a thin layer of ice, and the buckets couldn’t be lifted anymore because the frozen water had glued them to the deck.

The sky was overcast, with no stars in sight. Instead, heavy snowflakes mixed with ice pellets fell from the sky, and the air was icy cold.

“Even the seawater is freezing—is this some kind of joke?”

Rick muttered as he pulled on layers of warm clothing. Beside him, Miguel, with stiff hands, was trying to light the wick of a kerosene lamp with an iron rod—he was almost certain that if it got any colder, the kerosene would freeze before midnight.

Strangely enough, the water in the small wooden box that held the Sinan Fish remained unaffected. The transparent little fish was swimming happily in the water, much to the envy of the humans who were being tormented by the bizarre weather.

Since Caesar had been gone, the Wind Fury’s band had disbanded.

Since Caesar had been gone, the nitpicky rules he had set were blatantly broken one by one—like gambling on the ship. The crew had wanted to do this for over a decade, and now they finally had the chance… The grown men were as excited as elementary school students who had been granted temporary freedom during a study hall.

At that moment, the outlaws who had chosen to stay were gathered on the deck, wrapped in blankets, huddled around a small, pitiful fire that had to be constantly fed to keep it alive. They drank the strongest liquor to keep their bodies warm, even though their lips were sticking to the bottles without them realizing it. After drinking, they continued to gamble, laugh, and shout without restraint, until the person sitting next to them turned around and realized their companion was grinning with a literally bloody mouth, yelling, “Pay up!”

Miguel, propping his chin in his hand, watched for a while and suddenly understood a truth—the reason study hall could be so fun was because the students probably knew deep down that no matter whether the next class was Chinese, math, or English, someone would eventually force them to make up for the time they had wasted.

They were fearless because they were certain.

They were certain that Caesar would return.

…

“I think they just want to have fun,” Zhizhi said with a disdainful pout, her face peeking out at the deck, her lips turning blue from the cold. She was wrapped in a piece of animal hide she had found somewhere and leaned in close to Miguel. “Go to sleep, buddy. Tomorrow’s still a long way off.”

“When the sun rises, I’ll see him.”

“…You’re hopeless, Luo Chenzhou.”

This familiar conversation, with the same time, place, and characters, repeated itself once more.

Miguel was half-forced by Zhizhi to go to sleep. At first, his hands and feet were cold, and he was slightly excited, making it hard to fall asleep—Miguel curled up in the blanket, listening to the lively shouts from the deck outside, thinking he would probably stay awake until dawn. Then, at some point, a pair of cold hands gently slipped under the blanket and touched his calf.

The touch of those hands was very familiar—rough, large, and devoid of warmth.

Miguel opened his eyes and realized that he had actually fallen asleep.

Now, he was awake.

When he saw the familiar outline of the person leaning over him, the black-haired young man’s pupils contracted slightly, then quickly returned to normal.

This wasn’t a dream.

Absolutely not.

He reached out and cupped the face of the man leaning over him. The two were so close that Miguel could smell each other’s breath, feel the strong heartbeat from the chest pressed against his own… He opened his mouth, finding his throat painfully dry, but after a few meaningless “heh heh” sounds, he finally managed to call out the name that had almost suffocated him—

“Caesar?”

“…”

“Caesar?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“…Why are you here?”

“Nobody said I couldn’t leave the Land of Dawn.”

“So you came?”

“So I came.”

“I missed you.”

“I never stopped missing you for a moment.”

“…You came to find me?”

“Yes, I came to find you.” The man’s voice was still low and magnetic, speaking in a calm, even tone. He reached out, as he often did, and pressed his rough thumb against the corner of the black-haired young man’s lips. The latter’s breath hitched, and his eyes began to sting—he stared intently at the man leaning over him.

The man simply pulled Miguel up gently and said softly, “I came to find you because I want you to come with me to a place.”

“Where?”

“Don’t ask, just come with me.”

Miguel was stunned for a moment, then sat up. In the darkness, he could even hear Zhizhi snoring like a pig in her sleep—other than that, everything was eerily quiet. The drunken voices of the crew members on the deck outside seemed to fade into the distance. The black-haired young man stood by the bed, staring for a long time at the place where the other man was holding his wrist.

Finally, he looked up—

By the flickering light of the kerosene lamp outside the ship, he could only vaguely make out the other man’s outline.

The man led him, almost resolutely, toward the edge of the deck. The icy wind, mixed with sharp ice pellets, cut into their faces. Miguel hung his head, obediently following the man step by step out of the captain’s cabin. They crossed three levels of the deck and reached the highest point of the ship’s side.

The man looked down at the churning seawater below, seeming hesitant.

But at that moment, Miguel pulled his hand free from the other man’s grasp.

Under the man’s slightly surprised gaze, Miguel curled his lips into a smile.

“I don’t know who you are or what you want to do—but since I’m ready to die, I can go anywhere you want to take me… but only after I find Caesar.”

The black-haired young man said nonchalantly—

“But could you do me a favor? Please stop pretending to be him—this lifeless, soulless act is really hard to watch.”

After saying this, Miguel tilted his head, his deep eyes that seemed to see into the soul of others fixed on the figure before him, who wore Caesar’s appearance.

He watched calmly as Caesar’s skin melted like candle wax, revealing a pale female face beneath. The man’s tall frame shrank, and at the shoulder blades, the clothes that had been identical to Caesar’s suddenly split open, revealing a pair of bird-like wings that unfurled with a flutter. Green feathers scattered amidst the falling snow, strikingly beautiful.

The creature reached out, seemingly wanting to touch the black-haired young man’s cheek, but just as it was about to make contact, it recoiled as if burned. Then, with a flap of its wings, it soared into the dark, snowy sky—the creature’s hauntingly beautiful melody echoed above the Wind Fury.

…

“A siren… it’s the siren! The first messenger of the Demon of the Sea has appeared! Block your ears, men! Prepare for battle!”

On the deck, Rick’s voice suddenly rang out, like the heaviest note, shattering the night’s tranquility.