Chapter Five: Song of the Ocean

The oceanic environment of this world was unfathomably complex. In the depths of the open sea, there lurked mysteries yet uncharted by humankind, as well as forbidden and perilous places whose very existence was shrouded in secrecy. It was known only that these places shaped the ever-shifting currents and the unpredictable moods of the sea.

Some scholars who devoted themselves to the study of atmospheric phenomena, after years of observation and imaginative deduction from the patterns of the winds, eventually sketched on their maps the outlines of a vast, enigmatic region far out at sea. Viewed from above, it resembled an eternal, colossal atmospheric vortex.

Yet the influence of the currents ran far deeper than that of the wind. Thus, the name “The Great Mysterious Whirlpool” began to spread.

Every vessel venturing into the open ocean would rely on both the calculations of these scholars and their own hard-won experience to judge the movement of currents, and would take pains to avoid the Great Whirlpool.

The Princess Nishehelier was powered by steam turbines and boasted a displacement of nearly forty thousand tons. Built more than twenty years ago, it was no longer the most luxurious of ocean liners, yet in such challenging waters, the heavy and stable Princess Nishehelier remained the very embodiment of safety and reliability.

Mulan stood upon the deck, the sea wind lifting the longer strands of his brown hair. As the ship sailed away, the port of Dia faded in his sight from something exquisitely detailed to a mere blur.

The ship’s horn sounded, long and low.

Mulan turned and looked up toward the center of the vessel, where three gigantic smokestacks belched white clouds tinged with steam and exhaust. The sight reminded him of the Titanic, though he didn’t think such idle thoughts could bring bad luck. Nevertheless, he quickly steered his mind elsewhere.

Leaving the region of Dia also meant leaving the war behind; a weight seemed to lift from Mulan’s heart.

The wind picked up, whipping the hair beneath his hat into disarray. After one last look at the receding horizon, Mulan hefted his suitcase and turned toward the cabins.

The territory of the Dirga Empire was shaped like a slightly misshapen pointed shoe. Dia lay in its southwestern corner, at the very tip of the toe. Mulan’s home, however, was in Valentine, a great coastal city in the northwest. Traveling there by land was both complicated and inconvenient; the ship was by far the more efficient and comfortable choice.

With the Princess’s speed and the necessary navigation around sea lanes, it would take about four days to reach Valentine.

Mulan’s cabin was small: a single bed, a fixed desk and wardrobe, and a narrow passageway, with no private bathroom. Of course, the Princess Nishehelier offered much better accommodations, but Mulan saw no need for such luxury given his means.

When Mulan woke from a brief nap, it was already dinner time. He rose, shrugged on his coat, straightened his clothes, and stepped out.

Before boarding, he’d learned that there were several dining rooms on the ship. The closest one was reasonably priced and attracted a diverse crowd. Unlike the quiet, formal atmosphere of the more upscale restaurants, this one was lively and unrestrained.

Even before he reached the dining room, Mulan could hear the rising clamor—calls and laughter, a boisterous energy. The corridor teemed with people coming and going.

In a corner of the dining room, a girl was chatting and laughing with a companion of similar age. When she spotted Mulan entering, coat draped over his shoulders, her expression brightened. She leaned in and whispered to her friend.

“See that one? He must be carrying something valuable, and he doesn’t look very agile.”

“He seems alert, though. That curious look—bet he’s just here for the experience. Must be loaded. Want to give it a shot?”

“Let’s go!”

The boy and girl headed for the door, their pace quickening, playfully chasing each other as if in a game.

“Ha ha ha, you can’t catch me! You can’t catch me!” the girl called, skipping ahead while the boy gave chase, feigning frustration.

“Stop running!”

Dodging the flow of people, they darted after each other. The girl glanced back too often and, unawares, collided sideways into Mulan just as he turned. The impact made her stumble, and the boy, chasing from the other side, bumped into Mulan as well.

“Ow!”

“Ah!”

Throughout, the girl kept her head down, smiling, while the boy’s face froze briefly before he pushed away. Mulan instinctively shielded his left arm, took a step back, and looked at the pair.

“Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to!” the girl apologized.

“Me too, sorry, sir!” the boy echoed.

They both apologized repeatedly. Mulan studied them for a moment before giving a small smile.

“It’s alright. Just be careful—it’s crowded here.”

With that, he headed for the bar, while the boy and girl slipped quickly out of the dining room, turning down a quieter passage.

After glancing around, the girl eagerly asked her companion, “Well? Did you get anything good?”

The boy looked uneasy. “I felt a gun. And I had the sense he noticed—my heart was pounding...”

“What? Forget it, then. Someone who carries a gun to dinner might be dangerous. Better not mess with him.”

Though the girl was a little surprised at the boy’s reaction, she realized she’d chosen the wrong mark. They calmed themselves, then followed the corridor and slipped through a door onto a narrow external gangway, shielded only by a thin railing.

At that moment, the ship was plowing through the nighttime sea. The waves outside were rough, the wind whipping the girl’s hair. They moved along the gangway with ease, occasionally catching glimpses into the cabins through the windows.

They knew the Princess Nishehelier inside and out, utterly unbothered by the precariousness of the walkway.

A wave crashed against the side, and both crouched low as the salty spray lashed past. The girl merely tidied her hair and was about to rise when the boy stopped her.

“What is it?”

His face had gone pale. He pushed her aside and signaled for silence, pointing to the side of the ship. Following his gesture, the girl looked through a small porthole—and her pupils dilated.

Inside, a girl lay spread-eagled and bound to a large table, even her head restrained, her body utterly exposed, her mouth gagged. But this was no simple crime of assault. Five figures in strange robes, their faces concealed, stood around the table, each holding a sharp blade.

The captive struggled desperately, terror in her eyes, but her bonds were too tight for resistance.

The boy and girl on the gangway watched in horror, as if witnessing a silent nightmare. Inside, the five knives descended as one, striking hands, feet, and the center of the brow.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, while lightning flashed outside the ship. In the dining room, Mulan and many others glanced up at the windows. The noise subsided slightly.

“Looks like a storm’s coming,” someone commented nearby, prompting laughter from another.

“This ship fears no storm!”

“Indeed! Here’s to Her Highness!”

“I love storms!” “Ha ha ha...”

The dining room swelled with laughter once more. Mulan smiled and speared a piece of steak, popping into his mouth a chunk that a proper gentleman would have cut into three or four bites. He tore off some bread, swiped it through the sauce on his plate, and stuffed it in as well.

A pity there was no rice—the sauce was sublime, and it would have been delicious over grains.

Yet, after finishing a normal portion, Mulan was still hungry. He ordered another helping of stew and a croissant and dug in anew.

Outside, the waves had grown markedly higher, the gentle rocking of the ship now more pronounced. The weather at sea could change in an instant; by the time Mulan was halfway through his meal, the first flashes of lightning had given way to a raging storm.

Suddenly, a beautiful melody drifted to Mulan’s ears—a woman’s soft humming, lingering first in the nasal register, then rising high and clear. It was not a sound from within the dining room.

It was like being up late, watching videos in one’s room, and hearing distant singing drifting in from outside.

“Mmm... ahhh...”

The melody sounded again, and Mulan felt as if an electric current had shot through him, his heart racing.

The voice was exquisitely beautiful, yet it filled Mulan with an inexplicable sense of dread—an odd, uncanny fear.

He set down his spoon and bread, swallowed the food in his mouth, and glanced around. Everyone else was eating and laughing as if nothing had happened, as though none had heard the singing.

The song, faint at first, seemed to draw ever nearer, unsettling Mulan so much that he patted the revolver at his back, eyes darting between the windows and the other diners, searching for any sign of reaction.

At that moment, Mulan’s gaze fell upon the entrance. The same boy and girl who had bumped into him earlier had returned, their faces pale, their expressions uneasy. Though they tried to compose themselves, their fear was barely concealed.

“Mmm... ahhh...”

Another wave of song, now seeming to brush right against the hull. Mulan felt a chill surge to the crown of his head, his skin prickling with goosebumps.

He noticed that the boy and girl looked even more terrified—the girl clapped her hands over her ears, both of them shrinking toward the door, a stark contrast to the rest of the lively diners.

‘They hear it too?’

The sense of unease left Mulan unable to sit still. Without settling his bill, he stood abruptly, yanked his coat from the back of the chair, threw it over his shoulder, and strode quickly toward the frightened pair at the dining room entrance.