The icy strait, with the sea churning white foam.
A Western-style twin-masted schooner tilted adrift in the waves.
The hull bore the scars of knife and axe, several charred breaches suggested scorch marks from cannon fire, and the tattered skull flag on the mainmast drooped lifelessly.
Scattered across the deck lay a dozen or so red-haired barbarian sailors, their faces ashen and lips purple, bodies curled in pain, emitting anguished groans, fingers unconsciously scratching at their throats and chests, as if countless invisible insects burrowed beneath their skin.
The smell of fishiness and the stench of vomit permeated the sea breeze.
Li Yan, Wang Daoxuan, Sha Lifei, and others dripping wet climbed onto the ship's side, cold saltwater dripping from their clothes.
