A fleet navigated the sea. Several cargo vessels formed its core, while three swift ships patrolled the perimeter, serving as lookouts and escorts. Should danger arise, they were to notify the cargo ships and engage any enemies.
"Land! Hamlet is in sight!"
The lookout perched atop the mast shouted ceaselessly to those below. Soon, a stir went through the crew as cheer after cheer spread the news.
This wasn't just because they could return home, but also because sailing in the summer was truly a torment.
The deck was like a frying pan. The scorching sun could bake a person dry, and no amount of water could alleviate the thirst.
Entering the cabin was like being stuffed into a steamer, filled with a mixture of sweat, the stench of feet, and various other strange smells.
