The Manta Tribe’s chorus stirred the atmosphere into violent turbulence.
Although the sound waves were slightly beyond the range of human hearing, their vibrations reached all the way to Peridereo Island, far in the distance.
“…That’s one strange wind. Doesn’t actually seem to be blowing that hard, though.”
One sailor, who had been hammering nails into the breached hull, turned toward the sea and grumbled.
“The sky’s that clear… We’re not about to get hit by a typhoon, are we?”
“Just in case, let’s check the mooring lines when we have time.”
The only one in the fleet who recognized the true nature of the sound was Mitra.
Although the great distance had rendered it rather faint, to the sensitive ears of a Draconian, it was unmistakably a song.
‘Surely something hasn’t happened to my friend?’
Uneasy, Mitra paced across the deck.
Just as Draconians held drinking parties whenever they found an excuse, the Manta Tribe gathered to sing whenever something momentous occurred.
But a chorus on that scale meant the event in question could hardly be ordinary.
Fortunately, his questions were soon answered.
Logan, who had been nowhere to be seen all morning, returned to the fleet just before noon.
The moment Logan boarded the flagship and saw Mitra’s face, he spoke gravely.
“Lord Manta does not have much time left.”
“You… met her? How in the world…….”
“She was stranded on a reef. She was already severely weakened. By now she has lost consciousness entirely and is barely breathing. She may not even make it through today.”
Logan’s expression was extremely dark as he…