The furious wind howled at the prow of the ship, and the murky sea churned waves. The continent of the East was shrouded by dark clouds, disappearing tens of miles away. The dark clouds loomed over the horizon, and the gloomy sky seemed on the verge of collapsing. Large flocks of petrels cried "woo woo" as they fled northward in a panic.
However, ten or so miles to the south, heavy black clouds piled up like mountains, cutting off the entire sea, uniting the sky and the ocean! From a distance, the rolling waves and clouds surged fiercely, with flashes of lightning and howling winds, resembling an abyssal cavern that devours everything!
"Almighty! The real storm is coming!"
Bruno stood at the prow, his face pale, mumbling under his breath. He stared at the storm clouds approaching rapidly from the south, his heart filled with a sense of foreboding.
It’s been more than a week since the celebration of Epiphany. After recovering some morale, the expedition fleet continued southward, advancing hundreds of miles. The desolate African continent still showed no end, but the endless sandy sea finally came to an abrupt stop, replaced by a vibrant green savannah.
The changing coastal scenery greatly excited the sailors on the ship. They had grown tired of the undulating sand dunes, suspecting that it was the end of the world. The appearance of green brought some hope. Along the coastal plains, faint sightings of grazing deer and goats made their mouths water.
"The rapid change in scenery, vast greenery, and lush grass... actually foreshadow heavy rains and storms..."
Bruno’s face showed a bitter smile. He recalled the recent days’ events.
Three days ago, the expedition fleet had already reached 33-34 degrees south latitude, while the promised return latitude of 40 degrees south was still far off. The southern sea was covered with dark clouds day and night, and the relentless rain seemed to have solidified, never to disperse.
No one in the fleet knew that they had reached the southern boundary of the Atlantic Ocean, a perilous zone where storms and thunderbolts intertwined year-round!
Here, the warm Mozambique-Agulhas current from the Indian Ocean met the cold Benguela current from Antarctica. They collided at the southern tip of the African continent, crashing along the expansive land! The encounter of warm and cold currents turned into unending heavy rain, and the ocean current hitting the land’s lateral obstruction formed towering waves. Coupled with the prevailing westerlies’ gale-force winds at mid-latitudes, it was a terrifying stormy expanse!
The fleet waited here for a few days, with every crew member feeling restless, talking amongst themselves, claiming this was the end of the world created by the Almighty. Further south, they said, lay an endless and terrifying abyss—it was better to return early...
Seeing this situation, Captain Dias stepped forward without hesitation. He promptly hanged a few ringleaders causing trouble, displaying their bodies on the mast, successfully intimidating and persuading the rest. Then, without further delay, he led the fleet to set sail, resolutely heading into the stormy southern sea.
"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!..."
The ferocious northwest wind swept in, filling the sails of the fleet, blowing the canvas into arcs. The Caravel ship, like a Feathered Arrow shot from a bow, dashed towards the storm to the south. Its speed made the hull tilt continually to the left, and the prow dipped repeatedly.
Bruno seized the ropes tightly, his eyes wide open, watching the storm rapidly closing in from the southern sky. Feeling the wind’s force on his face, he determined the ship’s speed had far exceeded 20 knots, surpassing the Caravel’s limits. The new captain, panicking, angrily shouted at the sailors.
"Damn it! Damn it! Why aren’t you all getting to the right side to stabilize the ship? Quick, reef the sails a bit, reef the sails!"
Upon hearing the captain’s orders, the sailors swiftly split up. A few elite sailors, braving the fierce wind, adjusted the mast spars, reducing the sail’s wind-catching angle. Soon, the ship’s speed visibly decreased, and the hull stabilized slightly. However, as the ship sped forward, it had already breached the storm’s edge. Dark clouds obscured the sky, the day turned instantly dim, and the endless storm surged in, drenching everyone on board.
"Boss, boss! We can’t go any further! Judging by the storm ahead, it will only get worse! Quickly signal for Captain Dias to turn back!"
The new boatswain Haroldo, braving the fierce wind, stumbled over to Bruno’s side, repeatedly urging with panic.
This voyage, Bruno had promoted Haroldo from head chef to boatswain. Given Haroldo’s history of poisoning, even as old comrades who had accomplished great feats together, Bruno wasn’t keen to eat the food he cooked.
Surprisingly, Haroldo firmly established himself as the boatswain, somehow winning over many sailors. Whatever sinister rituals he led them in, the pious and kind-hearted Bunoru neither heard of nor partook in.
"Signal for a turn back?..."
At this, Bruno looked towards the fleet’s front, where the flagship "St. Christopher" led the way. It too had lowered some sails yet continued straight southward. Nearby, the square-rigged supply ship closely followed the flagship without a pause. Bruno hesitated for a moment until a wave six or seven meters high crashed head-on, making him tremble.
"Foda-se! Signal for a turn back! Uh..."
Another crashing wave struck head-on, soaking Bruno’s head and face. The salty cold seawater washed over him, flooding his eyes and mouth. After that wave, the new captain wasted no time, spitting out the seawater and shouting urgently.
"Ptooey, ptooey! Signal for a turn back! Quickly, quickly!"
Before long, an elite sailor reached the prow, waving two bright flags, signaling the flagship to turn back. After a while, a sailor appeared at the flagship’s stern, coldly waving for a reply.
"No turning back, continue south!!"
"No turning back, continue south!!"
Bruno stared, using the faint light of day to see the flagship Dias’ reply, feeling a chill in his heart.
"Mad... He’s gone mad! Captain Dias has gone completely mad!"
The northwest wind blew fiercely while the current surged southeastward. By now, the entire fleet had no choice. The combined wind and current would continue pushing the fleet towards the storm’s center, making a return impossible.
Another massive wave struck with overwhelming force, causing the entire ship to rear back. Worse yet, thunder roared from the storm ahead, and lightning struck from the dark clouds! The intensifying northwest wind drove the ship straight into the storm’s lightning!
A bolt of lightning struck down, exploding a few hundred meters to the right, causing everyone’s eardrums to tremble. Bruno’s vision flashed bright, and then darkened, blinding him for a moment. Torrents of heavy rain pelted his face, leaving it numb.
"Almighty! Please protect me!"
It took a while for Bruno to regain his senses, forcing his eyes open. The small Caravel tossed violently in the waves; barrels rolled across the deck, making it impossible for anyone to stand steady. He lowered his stance, tightly gripping the ropes with his arms and hooking the planks with his legs, shouting hysterically.
"Damn it! Damn it! Forget the flagship’s orders! Lower the sails! Lower the sails!"
In the captain’s roars, a few brave sailors staggered before the mast, frantically trying to operate. The fierce wind tightened the ropes, making them hard to untangle.
Hearing the order, a sailor, wobbling, pulled out a Dagger from his waist, vigorously cutting the ropes. The ropes, soaked with water, had become tough and slippery. With the ship pitching heavily, he struggled to apply force, unable to cut through. A fellow sailor, seeing this, anxiously moved to help.
A terrible wave sound came from several hundred meters ahead, sounding like the roar of a deep-sea giant beast!
Bruno turned to look and became pale, trembling with terror. As the sailors turned to look, they too were horrified, paralyzed with fear, even despairingly praying.
"Merciful Almighty! Please, please!..."
Prayers proved futile. In moments, an overwhelming giant wave rose in front of the ship like a towering mountain!
This wave was 15-20 meters high, spanning over ten miles! The wave’s front was like a towering cliff, while the rear resembled a slow slope, coming with the power to obscure the sky, crashing down like an unstoppable Titan! Before such a giant wave, the over twenty-meter-long Caravel was merely a toy in the hands of Giants, utterly powerless to resist.
"Buzz... Boom! Boom!!"