Charles stood anxiously in the cockpit of the Narwhal. Beside him lay the sea chart.
On the densely marked chart, the Narwhal's position now perfectly overlapped with the location of the gate. But outside, the sea was still pitch black—there was nothing.
This can't be right. The sea chart indicates this is the spot. Could the chart be a fake?
Charles was just about to call for the Pope to discuss a solution, but unexpectedly, the Pope had already flown onto his ship.
"What's going on? Didn't you say the chart pointed here? Why is there nothing?" The Pope's tone held an unfriendly edge.
"Maybe there's a margin of error in the chart's coordinates. We can use this spot as the center and search the surrounding area. If an island truly exists, it can't be far," Charles said, gazing at the shadowy waters ahead.
"No need for all that trouble. I have a better way."
