Over the next few weeks, nothing noteworthy happened aboard the ship.
The southeastern wind gradually strengthened, and the Violet pressed onward, covering five hundred miles a day. One could hardly demand more from a vessel of her size.
Without warning, the waves began to rise. They climbed to five meters.
Simbad felt the foul weather drawing near. There would be no smooth end to this voyage. He ordered the magical instruments prepared to stabilize the ship, though he was not certain it would be enough.
His crew was first-rate, and the ship was sturdy. There was even a Sky-Dweller aboard, ready to lend assistance. But no vessel could ever be fully insured against the dangers of the ocean. This truth he understood with particular clarity.
The storm was approaching.
Years spent at sea had sharpened Simbad's instincts enough that he could feel the oncoming danger in his very gut.
"Take in the sails!" Simbad barked, sensing the gusts growing stronger. "Crew, prepare yourselves! From this moment on, we rest in shifts."
He acted with caution. He did not want the furious wind to tear apart the sails of his beloved Violet, let alone snap her masts.
By morning, the wind seemed to have eased, but the captain did not trust that soothing deception. He was right not to.
After noon, a sharp, heavy gust swept through, and the sea around them began to churn.
Long waves, each as tall as a house, stretched one after another, not colliding, but rolling in relentless succession. They were too large. That could mean only one thing: somewhere to the east, a true storm had unleashed itself, and soon it would catch up to them.
The sight of the sky inspired unease.
And yet one circumstance still favored the Violet: the wind continued to blow from behind. Even if it turned into a hurricane, the ship would only race faster toward the shores of Nightingale.
The storm itself did not threaten the ship. The real difficulties would begin later, when they had to make landfall on an unfamiliar coast. In these times, it was impossible to determine the exact landing point. That was what Simbad was thinking about.
What if ahead lay nothing but a barren strip of land without a single local inhabitant? And if it were bare cliffs? What if the weather forced them to seek shelter where there were no charts, no information, not even rumors? Would the ship be dashed against the rocks?
It was too early to trouble his mind with it, but he knew such questions surfaced without warning, and when they did, hesitation was equal to disaster.
The rolling grew stronger with each passing day. The waves rose slowly, yet stubbornly. Fortunately, no one aboard suffered from seasickness—even the children endured it with remarkable fortitude.
Simbad stood at the forecastle.
His gaze shifted from the gray sky to the dark ridges of water, then to the masts of the Violet, which bent beneath the onslaught of the wind despite every reinforcement.
The ship lived, breathed, creaked, and resisted.
Catherine approached him. Her steps were light and carefree.
"How are things, my sworn brother?" she asked, lifting a brow with a trace of sarcasm. "You look as though you intend to sink the ship before the storm has the chance."
Simbad merely gave a displeased grunt.
The storm did not trouble Catherine in the slightest. With a sly smile, she stood on the deck as if the sea were her second home. The wind swept through her hair, carrying the fresh scent of her body.
Simbad could not help himself and drew in a deep breath, which greatly angered her.
"Craving death?" she snorted, and without hesitation hurled a blade of wind at him.
He instinctively dodged and raised his hands in a placating gesture.
"Ah! Catherine, don't be angry! I just… got lost in thought. The wind is picking up. We'll be in the storm soon. And I worry about the Violet."
He regarded her for a moment with a pensive expression, then added, "But why are you so calm? I know you're a Sky-Dweller and unlikely to fear a storm. But what about the children? You're not nervous at all?"
Catherine didn't argue. She turned toward the sea. There was no carelessness in her gaze—only certainty.
"If we were in the middle of the ocean, I'd already be panicking. But we're almost at the approaches to Nightingale. A storm isn't an obstacle. At worst, I'll take the children on the Snowy, which constantly scares your parrot, and fly off."
She smiled. "So relax. I'm here only to keep an eye on my 'wayward brother.' And to make sure he doesn't drown before his time."
Over the past few months, they had grown closer. They could now truly be called friends—people who understood and respected each other.
Simbad had learned to understand Catherine and no longer feared her. He knew that as long as he didn't stare at her or say anything foolish, nothing would happen to him.
Well… almost.
He grimaced, recalling that a month ago, after having a bit too much rum, he had decided to "test his luck" and try courting her. It had ended with him hanging upside down from a mast, used as bait for sea creatures—right before the eyes of the entire crew.
He wasn't afraid of danger. But the thought of the sailors spreading the story to every port—that terrified him. And they would spread it. They already had.
The moment he appeared on deck, laughter flew at his back, and in his face, praise for his "brave" act. Listening to their teasing, he longed to jump overboard. Even the storm they faced now worried Simbad far less than that pressing matter.
"Then… maybe you could give me some advice on how to save my ship?" Simbad exhaled, not really expecting an answer. He was more just voicing aloud what was troubling him.
Seeing that her friend could still joke, Catherine relaxed.
"If things get bad, I'll do my best to help. My magical core isn't tied to a specific element, so I can weaken the wind or calm the water around the hull. Not completely, of course—not like Poseidon—but I can keep the ship riding the waves."
She spoke calmly, as if this were something ordinary, as if she were talking not about a raging storm but about adjusting a cloak in the wind.
"That's truly remarkable! Sister, if that's the case, I'll be in your debt. With your help, I won't have to fear running aground on a reef."
Catherine nodded. "Remember, rely on me only in an emergency. My mana isn't infinite. If you use my powers too often, your trump card will burn to waste."
"I understand," Simbad assured her. "Don't worry. This isn't the first storm we've faced. But… with your help, it will be easier."
"Good, then," she said.
Several hours later, the hurricane struck—the most terrifying form of storm.
Air currents roared from the northwest at two hundred miles per hour. This was a hurricane, one of those that hurl ships onto the shore, tear roofs from houses, and topple trees to the ground.
The twins, along with Cassia, were locked in the captain's cabin. The door was barred—not because they might run off, but because the wind could rip it straight from its hinges. The children were not allowed on deck; their small bodies would simply be blown into the open sea.
Outside, thunder roared. The ship pitched and rolled like a drunken sailor.
If a raging wind could bend masts carved with runic enchantments, it was easy to imagine how it tossed a vessel with no other support than the furious waves beneath it.
Yet within this motion lay the only hope. The ship did not resist the violent gusts—it yielded to them, and if its hull was strong enough, it could withstand any fury the storm unleashed.
So it was with the Violet.
Simbad issued order after order. His voice, amplified by his aura, cut through the wind and carried across the entire ship.
On the sailors' red, weather-beaten faces, the worry was visible. Their survival depended on how smoothly they worked together.
Massive walls of water surged across the sea, taller than the masts. Desperate waves chased the stern, threatening to crash down if the ship lost momentum for even a second. Here lay the true danger they were about to face.
And at that moment, the water frothed.
"BLACKFINS! Watch out!" Eagle Eye shouted, warning the crew.
The water exploded, and over the side streaked a long, narrow body—gleaming black fins, a bone-like "blade" of a snout cutting through the air.
The creature struck the spot where a sailor had stood just a second before. Only the ship's sudden lurch saved his life. The beast surged past, diving beneath the waves—only for another to surface immediately.
"Repel them! Stay away from the rails! Don't poke your heads out!" Simbad yelled, rallying the crew to arms.
Metal clashed.
Several sailors leaped to the railings, striking the leaping fish with blades and axes. The deck was streaked with red.
The children pressed close to the maid, seeking protection.
Grace stirred. "Cassia, what is this? Are we under attack? Sea monsters?"
"Scavengers, more likely," Cassia replied. "They're called Blackfin Swordfish. They have a taste for humans and usually strike during storms. Watch the fight closely—one day this lesson might save your lives."
The school grew with every passing minute. Dozens of bodies leapt from the water, like volleys of archers shooting endlessly from beneath the waves. It was their favored attack.
A weak young sailor was pierced through and carried into the darkness, not even given a chance to scream.
The monsters were not overly powerful. At most, third-level threats. But there were many of them, and their sharp bone blades, when properly accelerated, could pierce the hull.
Under normal circumstances, repelling them would be easy. But if the crew focused on attacking, the ship would sink beneath the waves.
Simbad no longer hesitated.
The aura of his saber flared around him like a translucent flame. His body felt lighter, his movements shorter and sharper. Time and again, he sliced through the air, turning the surrounding wind into a blade.
The first fish was split in two before it even reached the rail.
"Catherine!" Simbad called without turning. "Stabilize the ship! We'll deal with them."
She nodded silently and raised her hand.
The wind around the Violet dropped instantly, no longer battering the hull, as if someone had created an invisible void around the ship. The magic of wind and water, like a net, enveloped the vessel, giving the sailors the precious time they desperately needed. The deck stopped pitching.
Yet such calm could not last long. Catherine was exerting titanic effort. Her magical core pulsed with the strain.
There was a difference between protecting a ship and destroying one. The first demanded constant effort; the second required just a single, powerful strike. The energy cost was disproportionate.
"I won't be able to hold this for long," Catherine warned, hoping he would hear.
"No need," Simbad replied, slicing through another blackfin. "Just keep the course steady."
The school grew more frenzied—blood in the water drove them mad. It seemed as if the sea itself was trying to overturn the ship, offering it up to be torn apart.
At this moment, the Blackfin Swordfish had completely surrounded the vessel. Seeing their fellows cut to pieces one by one, some of the creatures began to circle the ship at a distance, like a pack of hyenas waiting for the right moment.
"Die!" Simbad roared.
His massive saber flashed, tracing an arc.
He didn't just slice through the two nearest—his strike plunged into the water. The formless blade of his aura rippled through the boiling wave. For an instant, the water seemed to part—and three more black bodies surfaced, arching, halved by his strike.
This set the pace of the battle.
The sailors fell into rhythm. They were strong enough to handle the "unexpected attacks." One parried a fish strike with a hook; another cut through a spine in mid-leap. It seemed they could manage.
Simbad stepped closer to the rail—and then a shout rang out:
"LAND AHEAD! ROCKS!"
He froze, unable to move. There was no worse news than hearing cries like that in the midst of a storm.
In hurricane-force winds, with the crew engaged in battle, a wreck was almost inevitable.
==============
Dear readers, I have to inform you that this work was rejected when applying for a contract without the possibility of revision. Therefore, I was forced to create a second version of the book, where I will publish the latest updates.
I will not give up on this version, but some chapters will be posted a little later than in the main one.
The book is called "The Mad Immortal"
https://www.webnovel.com/book/the-mad-immortal_34969618200258905###
Many thanks for your support, active comments and reviews.
This will help more readers to get acquainted with my book, which means my chances of getting a contract will increase and you will receive content more often. (The author also needs to eat and provide for his family)