Aboard the ship, a red shadow like lightning suddenly flashed by.
"What was that?"
"Did I just see things?"
"Where's Ivanov?"
"He was just beside me!"
The sudden change sobered the drunken Russians halfway.
They looked at each other, someone gulped audibly.
"I've heard that people who drown at sea turn into water ghosts. Once they find someone to take their place, they can ascend to Heaven."
The young man's face was ashen, still dripping with soup, he angrily rebuked, "Nonsense, whether it's water ghosts or drowning ghosts, they're all weaklings, how could they drag a living person away right under everyone's noses?"
"Grab your weapons, whatever it is that's causing trouble, I—Yaroslav will make it pay!"
The burly Russian warriors quickly grabbed war axes, war swords, and throwing spears from the boxes and rushed out of the cabin under Yaroslav's lead.
The night was terrifyingly dark.
Not a trace of the moon could be seen.
