It was late at night. Under the heavy grey clouds, all the starlight was obscured. In the endless sticky darkness, the only light came from the Morning Advance, which was alone, holding a burning torch, sailing through the long night.
It is so lonely and yet so bright. If there are fellow travelers in the darkness, they will definitely notice its light, but at the same time, if there are bloodthirsty beasts, they are bound to be aware of the existence of the Morning Advance.
The pressure of erosion was constantly affecting everyone on the ship. Fortunately, the Morning Advance carried enough Florand potions. With the help of the drugs, the erosion did not affect the crew and soldiers too much for the time being.
But even so, some people still heard voices coming from the darkness, as if in this unlit darkness, countless monsters were surrounding the edge of the darkness, licking their sharp claws and whispering.
"How long can they hold out?"
"Where else can we go?"
"Fresh blood, fresh meat!"
Chaotic and complicated sounds rang in the ears of a few people. The medical room was overcrowded and the ship's doctors were powerless to do anything. They themselves were also troubled by the strange whispers. The more they were affected, the clearer and stronger these whispers became.
The ship's doctors can only prescribe more doses of Florand's medicine to the affected people, which can relieve their pain, but the problem is that Florand's medicine is not endless. It is limited, and sooner or later it will be exhausted. What should they do then
No one asked this question. Everyone was keeping the same tacit understanding and not thinking about this. They were all elites of the Purification Agency, and they knew what they would face before setting sail.
Garlon and Clave were also in a very bad condition. Perhaps because they had been forgotten, no one had come to send them the Florend potion yet, and their mortal wills were directly exposed to the invisible erosion.
Fortunately, these Vikings were not very fragile. They were not aware of the so-called erosion. Garlon and Claf just felt very uncomfortable, from physical torture to mental torture.
"Are we... seasick?"
Clough said suddenly.
He knew very well that this had nothing to do with seasickness. Every Viking grew up on a longship, so how could they get seasick
Maybe the atmosphere was too gloomy, so he wanted to make a joke to ease the tense atmosphere a little.
But unfortunately, no one responded to his joke. Garen sat there blankly, watching the squirming figure in the darkness.
After suppressing the restless Floki, Garlon just sat there, saying nothing and not moving at all. If Clough had not been able to hear his breathing, he would have suspected that Garlon was dead.
"Silent Sea..."
Clave looked at the darkness outside the porthole, and when he realized that he was in it, the despair in their hearts increased a little.
As Floki's subordinates, they knew very well what the Sea of Silence was like.
A sea of no returnees... It cannot be said so absolutely, there are some who return.
Their eyes looked into the dark corner. The one they respected, Floki Wilgdason, was the one who returned from the Silent Sea. Among all the Viking countries, he knew the existence of the Silent Sea best.