The salty sea breeze mixed with gray-red mist pressed heavily on the sea surface.
The massive fleet of the Great Xuan Alliance Army pitched violently amidst the raging waves.
The keel emitted groans of unbearable burden as the iron-plated bow repeatedly cleaved through the dark waves, splashing not water, but tendrils of ominous, sticky fog.
The sky hung low, the sun and moon dimmed, only a chaotic mix of gray and red suffused the horizon.
Even the compass needle spun wildly, completely losing direction.
"Steady! Lower half the sails! Rowers, heed the orders!"
On the deck of the flagship "Dinghai," Marshal Pingwei, Gao Zhenxiong, his beard and hair bristling, shouted in a voice like a bell.
His body was firmly planted before the violently swaying deckhouse, his eyes fixed intently on the wall of mist ahead.
