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Meanwhile, at the same time the two airships arrived at French Fry Harbor, a freighter laden with cargo was quietly entering the Baiyue Strait from the stormy sea.
“Watch the helm for me.” Yawning, the gray-haired captain, wearing a brown jacket, handed the wheel to a younger man in a white shirt, then went to relax on a deck chair, picking up a half-finished beer and taking a swig as the sea breeze brushed his face that had been so tanned it was comparable to leather.
Normally, he never let anyone else steer, but this was an exception. Compared to the open southern seas, the Baiyue Strait felt more like a calm river than an ocean.
With landmarks on both shores, it was almost impossible to lose direction.
That was why Captain Song Haining, resident of Ring Island, now based mostly in Silvermoon Bay, allowed himself a break.
He had spent more of his life at sea than anywhere else.
Sun...
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