"January 11, 435

  We have finally arrived! May the great powers bless us. As long as we retrieve the sacred object, I can undergo the initiation ceremony and become a true servant of the Lord!"

  This was the last entry in the diary, and the title indicated that the captain was a follower of the Futan Church. It was easy to guess that the church had sent its own followers here before seeking out Charles.

  Charles instructed the crew to check the other ships, and they found similar situations. The captains' diaries all recorded their excited feelings in their final moments.

  Just as Charles was trying to piece together what had happened, the thin cook, Frey, handed him another diary.

  "Captain, take a look at this. It’s a bit different."

  Charles took it and opened it, his pupils instantly constricting. The beige diary was filled with chaotic words.

  "Be careful! Don’t go to the island! They are one of us!! 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! The island!"

  The disjointed phrases indicated that the writer's mind was unraveling, sending chills down the spines of everyone reading it. They all wondered what this captain had experienced.

  Deep swallowed hard, pulling his head back and cautiously looking at his fellow crew members. The diary suggested danger from within, implying that monsters might be lurking among them.

  Charles understood what he was thinking. He smacked the diary against Deep's head. "Stop overthinking! We haven't even set foot on the island yet."

  "Captain, are we still going?" Deep asked hesitantly.

  "Of course we are," Charles said with sudden determination. No matter what dangers lay on that island, they wouldn’t deter him from his path home. Even if it meant dying, he would die on the way.

  The Mouse slowly approached the beach, its rusty anchor plunging into the water as the black smoke from the stack gradually dissipated.

  A wooden boat was lowered, and everyone moved toward the island together.

  As they neared the dark island, Charles opened a wooden crate and began distributing flintlock guns and revolvers. At the bottom were bundles of tightly packed explosives.

  He had specially procured a lot of supplies for this mission.

  With weapons in hand, everyone felt a bit more at ease.

  Seven sturdy men, armed and ready, jumped from the boat and walked across the beach toward the distant forest.

  Though it was called a forest, there was not a single green tree in sight. The twisted branches seemed to be covered with a thick layer of rust, and the trunks appeared to be swollen with tumors—some bulging out, while others caved in.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Walking among them gave the unsettling sensation of traversing through a body.

  The crew knew their objective was a golden statue of the Futan deity. Under the flickering torchlight, they searched for anything that glimmered, but found nothing.

  After a short while, a set of scattered footprints appeared on the ground. Seeing the footprints, the crew felt slightly relieved; at least it proved that others had walked this path, suggesting it might be safer.

  Perhaps they guessed right; after nearly two hours of walking, nothing unusual occurred.

  When they gathered a pile of branches to start a campfire, the tense atmosphere eased a bit.

  The scent of toasted white bread filled the air as the crew ate and speculated about what had happened to the missing people.

  "Do you think monsters ate them? Like those things in the sea?"

  "Not likely. Some of those on the ships were Futan followers, you know. Sea creatures rarely attack them. I think there’s something dangerous on the island."

  Charles didn’t join the discussion; he remained vigilant, surveying the strange environment around them. This bizarre forest was unsettlingly quiet; aside from the sounds they made, there were no chirps of insects or calls of birds.

  The absence of danger on the island was undeniably bizarre. He had read many accounts from exploration captains, and none of the islands in the Sea of Mysteries were safe.

  The islands currently inhabited by humans had been occupied only after the dangers had been eliminated.

  For instance, the Coral Islands had been alive when humans first encountered them. Over twenty exploration ships had formed a fleet to battle the giant coral, and it was said that many lives were lost before they finally subdued it.

  "Stop chatting. Finish eating and let’s get moving. The longer we stay here, the more dangerous it becomes."

  Hearing Charles’s words, the crew stopped their idle chatter and began to hasten their chewing, quickly regaining their strength as they prepared to continue.

  "Captain, I heard that when we go back, we’ll be on a big ship, right?" Deep leaned in and whispered.

  "Yes."

  "Great! Then I’ll be able to manage a dozen sailors like the first mates on the larger ships, instead of having no crew like I do now."

  Charles glanced at the excited young man, a smile curling his lips. Youth was truly wonderful; everything was seen in a positive light.

  However, they did need to recruit more sailors upon returning. Although the Mouse was small, it was a bit ridiculous to have no crew at all.

  As Charles and the others continued along the path, it felt like it had no end, stretching endlessly ahead.

  If it weren’t for the scattered footprints on the ground constantly changing, Charles would have thought they were just treading in place.

  After walking for nearly three hours, their feet aching, the trees suddenly parted ahead, revealing a stone structure entangled with brown vines.

  The building appeared somewhat dilapidated; it was unclear if it was a temple or a church. Where a wooden door should have been, only a dark hole remained.

  Charles pulled the bandaged man closer, gravely asking, "Is it in there?"

  The bandaged man hesitated but nodded, “It should be… I’m not too sure… Sorry… my memory isn’t great…”

  Regardless of whether it was there or not, Charles decided to check it out. The footprints on the ground consistently led to the entrance, and they showed no signs of chaos, indicating that danger had not yet arrived.

  He turned to his first mate and the cook. “Let’s go. The four of us will take a look inside.”

  James and Frey nodded in agreement, following Charles as they stepped inside.

  The torchlight illuminated the interior of the building. Compared to its dilapidated exterior, the inside was surprisingly clean and spacious. The smooth red floor was devoid of dust, but the things on the walls made those who entered feel a chill run down their spines.

  The walls were adorned with various bizarre reliefs, layers upon layers of grotesque creatures entwined with one another.

  They resembled hybrids of starfish and octopuses, their strange bodies embedded with a single eye at their centers.

  Through their body language, it was evident that they were worshipping something.

  However, the three men paid little attention to these strange reliefs; all their focus was drawn to the golden statue in the center. It was a bizarre figure resembling a human covered in tentacles—the Futan deity.