On the eleventh day of Aiven's party arrival at Nisk Water City, it was also the fourth day of the second patrol of the Storm Horn.
The entire second routine patrol mission was still smooth sailing, and they had already started their return after reaching the open sea boundary.
Evidently, compared to life in Nisk Water City.
The days of patrolling during this period were indeed somewhat torturous, especially in the uncertain situation, not knowing when or if the enemy would come!
"When will the days of only passively waiting for the enemy to come to us finally end?"
Milan leaned weakly against the railing of the poop deck, looking at the white wake left by the battleship as it sailed through the sea, speaking listlessly.
"As a 'Prophet,' do you have the nerve to ask us this question?"
Aiven shot him a glance, thinking he himself would like to know when it would end!
Drifting like this all day long, although it does not greatly impact his current research progress.
