“Captain Charles, you must take this to the Holy Person. We found the map! Look, here’s the Supply Island, and here is the location of the Land of Light!!”

  Hearing this, Charles felt his breath catch in his throat. He quickly snatched the piece of flesh from the bald man, excitement flooding over him as he examined it closely.

  Upon careful inspection, he could see that the holes on the flesh indicated the locations of the islands. This was a sea chart even more detailed than the one marked "King." He noticed that two of the holes had been deliberately enlarged.

  The bald man pointed at those two holes with urgency. “You see, the farthest one is the location of the Land of Light, and the closer one is the Supply Point. If we fill up supplies here, we can sail directly to the realm of the Light God!”

  Charles swallowed hard, his fingers trembling as they traced the circular holes on the flesh. “Are… are you sure?”

  The bald man nodded vigorously. “We can’t understand the monsters’ writing, but the sea chart is clear. The island around it is obviously marked brighter, and there are many annotations nearby. This is definitely the entrance to the Land of Light.”

  Charles’s mind raced. “This place is the Foundation's second laboratory. The real sea chart must have vanished into history long ago. The chart they found must have been copied by the Mihe. This map is highly reliable.”

  His heart raced with newfound hope. They had found their target.

  Suddenly, a loud bang echoed as someone knocked on the iron door, reminding both men that they were still prisoners.

  Outside, the Mihe were making a ruckus, but this time, the whispers in Charles's ears had vanished; he couldn’t discern what they were saying.

  Turning his gaze from the iron door back to the bald man, he asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Salin. My name is Salin.”

  “Salin, is the scale of this sea chart accurate?” Charles asked, knowing that even a slight error in such a chart could lead to disastrous consequences.

  “Captain Charles, don’t worry. Anyone who can explore on a ship in the Light God’s faith has learned some cartography skills at the Navigation Academy. Look, we’ve marked the scale on the edges here; the ratio is definitely correct.”

  Hearing the increasingly frantic noises from outside, Charles activated the harpoon from his prosthetic limb and handed it to Salin. He then exposed his uninjured back. “Quickly, carve this map onto my back! Hurry!!”

  Without hesitation, Salin raised his elbow as a ruler and swiftly began carving with the sharp tip of the harpoon.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Charles felt a sharp pain in his back, but this pain brought him joy; it was the marker of his path home.

  The banging on the door grew louder, and the pain in Charles’s back intensified.

  “Don’t rush it; make sure it’s accurate. They won’t get in that fast,” he urged.

  “Got it! I know.” Sweat dripped down their faces, but they had no time to worry about it.

  “How did you find this sea chart?” Charles asked, trying to distract himself from the pain.

  “My crew and I attempted to escape from prison. Although we were recaptured, the bosun found this sea chart in a room filled with books. We each copied the chart, and it didn’t matter if the others died; as long as one person could escape, our mission would be a success.”

  Charles was taken aback by Salin’s resolute words. Indeed, these fearless cultists spoke of life and death so lightly.

  “Escape? How did you manage that?”

  “There were various sea creatures imprisoned with us. We released them to create chaos and try to escape, but there were too many humanoid monsters on this island. Our plan failed.”

  “Dude, that’s a great idea! Why didn’t I think of that when I was escaping? If we had released those creatures, the entire laboratory would have been in chaos.” Richard’s voice echoed in Charles’s mind.

  Beads of sweat dripped from Charles’s brow as he nodded. The Mihe were numerous; this was indeed a viable plan.

  Suddenly, the iron door burst open, and the white-robed Mihe stormed in with a group of black-robed Mihe.

  “%@＃*!!” The white-robed Mihe sounded agitated.

  “They’re in! How long until you’re done?” Charles asked anxiously, frozen in place.

  “Almost there, almost!” The pain in Charles’s back intensified.

  After the white-robed Mihe spoke, he raised a withered finger, signaling one of the black-robed Mihe to approach Charles, seemingly to pull them apart.

  “Puff!” A semi-transparent, clay-like substance leaped out from behind, enveloping one of the black Mihe.

  Charles recognized this substance; Sonny had used it before. It seemed to be a tool used by the followers of the Light God for combat.

  “@&@**!” The white Mihe shouted in frustration.

  A large group of black Mihe charged in from outside, wielding various strange artifacts. The clay-like substance quickly morphed back into a puddle on the ground.

  As they approached Charles with menacing intent, he let out a sigh of relief; the pain in his back had ceased. The sea chart was now etched onto his skin.

  “Captain Charles, may the Light God bless you!” Salin said, and then he picked up the piece of flesh from the ground and swallowed it with determination.

  “If you manage to get out alive, come to my ship; I need crew members.” Charles smiled as he patted Salin on the shoulder.

  For the first time, Charles had a new perspective on the followers of the Light God. Though their faith was fanatical and crazy, some among them were genuinely good people.

  Just as Salin nodded with a smile, the black Mihe surrounded Charles, dragging him toward the door.

  “Rip!” The sound of flesh tearing and bones cracking echoed behind Charles.

  His pupils dilated as he quickly turned around, only to see Salin’s lower half left on the ground while the upper half of his body flew through the air, his eyes filled with disbelief.

  “Thud!” Salin’s bloodied upper body landed on the ground like a broken sack. A piece of the sea chart remained unconsumed in his mouth, and his eyes fixed on Charles.

  There seemed to be a lingering sentiment in his gaze, but as his pupils widened slowly, that sentiment faded away.

  The one who killed Salin was the white-robed Mihe, wielding a sharp-toothed artifact. With a forceful swing, Salin’s body was further torn apart.

  “@＃*＃＆!!” The white-robed Mihe stood beside the bloody remains, shouting in frustration, kicking the corpse vigorously.

  If this connected with the previous information, then in the last era, the relic known as 704 had similarly not harmed 134.