Chapter 205. A New Plan

The distinct sound of reloading bullet chambers echoed through the deck. The Narwhale crew were gathered together, their faces taut with tension.

The thick sense of anxiety in the air weighed down on them. Seasoned sailors knew all too well the grave implications of a tampered compass.

Without any stars to guide the way, the compass was the sole tool of navigation on the open sea.

With the compass compromised, it implied that their navigation data had been inaccurate since some undetermined moment in the past. They were adrift at sea without a reliable bearing.

Losing one’s direction at sea was more terrifying than any lurking creatures in the water. Their ship had become, in essence, a floating iron coffin.

"Dipp, Bandages, James, Linda, Audric..."

With a somber expression, Charles verified his crew against the recorded names in his diary. The count was correct. There was no extra headcount or missing ones. After doing a roll call, where each member announced their name and role, he also became certain that there were no impostors among them.

Under the captain's command, the crew commenced an exhaustive search of the vessel. They probed every passageway corridor and entered each room, leaving no nook or cranny unchecked for the unseen adversary.

Sailing on the waters, the Narwhale was a confined space. Unless the culprit plunged into the sea, there was no other way of escape.

Every cupboard was emptied, every nook scrutinized. Yet, after a comprehensive search, they found no traces or anomalies.

Charles was baffled. The compass was clearly sabotaged, yet there were no traces of an intruder.

Could it be that they possess the ability to become invisible?

He strode onto the open deck and called out, "Buddy, have you noticed anyone or anything climbing aboard from the waters and then returning after?"

Even if the intruder had deliberately avoided the crew, they likely wouldn't have anticipated a sentient Narwhale. Perhaps she might know something that all of them had missed.

A rope slithered him like a snake. It then rose up before Charles and swayed from side to side; the Narwhale indicated that she had no idea either.

Just then, Lily scurried toward Charles with a throng of mice behind her. Her fur had already returned to its original white color. She tilted her head upward and reported, "Mr. Charles, my mice friends searched all spaces that they could possibly infiltrate. They found nothing unusual."

Charles' heart sank. Even the Narwhale and Lily found nothing. How did the saboteur accomplish this? It was utterly baffling.

The situation ended in a deadlock. If they couldn't find the perpetrator, they would remain stranded without a way to ascertain their position. The Narwhale would then be potentially trapped on the sea indefinitely.

All eyes turned onto Charles. His experience was being put to the test in such circumstances. Any word from him could lead them all either to salvation or to doom.

Charles stroked his chin as he contemplated. After a moment, he carefully chose his next words, "Everyone who has touched the helm ever since we entered the Sea of Mist, step forward."

Dipp, Bandages, and another familiar-looking sailor stepped forward in response.

"Try to recall," Charles instructed. "When was the last time the compass functioned correctly in your memory?"

The compass was frequently used during navigation, so that magnet couldn't have been there for so long, or the crew would have surely noticed.

"I'll answer first," Dipp broke the silence, his expression strained. "I took the morning shift three days ago. During that shift, I adjusted our course by 20 degrees. I remember very clearly that the compass was working then."

"Three days ago...then we still might be in time to correct this. The three of you, come with me." Charles then darted into the pilothouse and started studying the jumbled nautical charts on the wall.

Picking up a pencil, he did some rapid calculations on a nearby slate. He then stabbed at a point on the line that charted Narwhale's intended course.

"This was our position three days ago. We haven't encountered significant waves, so the drift should be minimal. If we retrace our steps to this location, we may be able to rediscover our original route."

While this meant that he would have to put his plan of breaking the Divinities' Curse on hold, navigating through the current crisis took precedence.

"Captain...What...about the perpetrator...who tampered with... the compass? They could... still be... onboard," Bandages asked in his slow manner of speech.

"That would be easy to deal with. Regardless if they could turn invisible or whatever ability they may have, we'll have round-the-clock surveillance on critical areas like the kitchen, water tank, and fuel store.

”Now that they've slipped up, it would be much easier for us to stay vigilant. And we have Lily's mice. Unless they’re planning on hiding forever, we’ll catch them once they appear."

With the new plan in place, the crew sprang into action. No matter what the plan was, having a plan was better than having none. The Narwhale reversed her course. Following the new strategy, she started backtracking.

Lily's mice came in handy at this point. They scattered throughout the ship like a network of CCTVs. At the slightest sign of anything unusual, they were ready to emit a sharp squeal to notify the crew.

As the days passed by, the turbulent chaos onboard gradually settled down. Tranquility and calmness returned on the Narwhale.

On the inky dark expanse, the Narwhale advanced forward.

Three days later, Charles peered anxiously through the window at the sea. If things had gone according to plan, the Narwhale would have returned to their previous position. However, without any landmarks to confirm, he wasn't certain if they had indeed returned.

He made a mental note in his mind to secure a navigational relic if he ever encountered one. The overwhelming sense of helplessness from being adrift at sea without coordinates was intolerable.

Dipp entered the pilot house with a metal cup in his hands. He had gloves on, and a comically round hat sat atop his head.

"Captain, it's getting colder. I asked the cook to prepare you some hot apple soup," he said, his breath visible in the chill air.

Charles handed the helm to his boatswain. Accepting the offered cup, he settled onto a nearby stool before he brought the rim to his lips and took a sip.

The warm, apple-infused thick broth slid down his throat; his chilled body felt slightly warmer.

As he sipped the broth, Charles pondered over the recent events. The saboteur clearly possessed intelligence if they thought to use a magnet to disrupt the compass. However, there was one thing Charles couldn't comprehend: What was their motive?

If their intent were to trap the Narwhale at sea, by extension, they would be joining the crew's demise.

In recent days, neither the mice nor the crew spotted anything unusual.

Could the culprit have really killed themselves by jumping into the waters?

"Captain, why don't you go back and get some rest? You haven’t been sleeping recently," Dipp persuaded.