Grand Voyage: I Start My Journey With A Ghost Ship!

This expedition into the Extreme Winter Sea has lasted far longer than anyone expected.
Fifteen days have passed, yet the ocean looks almost the same —
only drifting ice, white fog, and the occasional iceberg. Nothing else.
During this time, the Nyxstar encountered two more Pale Worms,
but with experience on their side, they suffered no losses —
they fired preemptively and killed them both.
The corpses of those two worms yielded 500 liters of oil.
Now, the Nyxstat’s hold is packed full of this stuff.
Any more would be unsafe and hard to store — unless they didn’t mind blocking the passageways.
If they run into more Pale Worms later, Yang Yi plans to sell some of the oil.
After all, it’s always in demand — it burns well, heals frostbite and burns,
and can even be mixed with wood to reduce consumption.
Since the secret of the living icebergs was exposed,
Pale Worms have become everyone’s favorite prey.
Not only can they drop loot, they also make good fuel —
and they’re not that hard to deal with.
Their greatest strength lies in camouflage;
if you know what to look for and blast any “iceberg” on sight,
they’re no match for cannon fire.
Thanks to that, “One-Eyed Boss” has become a hot topic in the chat channel —
after all, he was the one who leaked that information and became a minor celebrity.
That day, it was Yang Yi’s turn at the helm.
Bored out of his mind, he stared blankly at the fog-shrouded sea.
Maybe he’d gotten used to it — steering through the mist no longer drained his sanity,
it just made him feel dull and listless.
He even found himself hoping something unusual would appear in the fog.
But he quickly snuffed out that dangerous thought.
“Too close. I almost let the fog mess with my head,”
Yang Yi muttered, shivering slightly at the realization.
His fear wasn’t unfounded.
The chat channel occasionally filled with strange, unverifiable claims:
Some said there were giant monsters lurking in the fog, chasing them down.
Others claimed the entire sea was actually the stomach of a colossal beast,
and they were sailing on its stomach acid.
And one person said they’d found a way out of the Extreme Winter Sea
and were now waiting right at the exit.
Yang Yi tried to DM that player, but they never replied.
When he tried again today — the account was gone.
“Suicided, maybe…” Yang Yi guessed quietly.
A faint breeze passed by — barely strong enough to move, yet bone-chillingly cold.

It made him shiver violently.
He noticed the campfire on his right had grown smaller,
so he threw in more wood and drizzled some worm oil over it.
The flames roared back to life, pushing the fog away.
The temperature was lower than ever now — about −35°C.
Without a fire, anyone outside would freeze to death —
not even a down jacket could save them.
Yang Yi managed only because under his down jacket,
he wore a full set of tinder-fiber thermal gear.
As for wearing two down coats —
very few players did that; it was just too bulky.
Somewhere else in the Extreme Winter Sea.
The New World Fleet’s advance team was underway — five ships in total.
Aside from the Ironhead, the others were ordinary vessels.
They sailed in a line, with Ironhead in front,
half a ship’s length ahead like the tip of a spear.
“Why the hell couldn’t I keep my damn mouth shut!”
Captain Zhao Ironhead cursed, teeth chattering.
He wore two heavy cotton coats and still shivered in the wind.
He was by far the most bundled-up among the crew —
the others only had sweaters and down jackets.
As team captain, his job was to make sure this route was safe,
scouting ahead for the main fleet.
They patrolled back and forth along the same line,
making sure nothing dangerous was overlooked —
like a living iceberg, for instance.
Their ships were fast — around 40 knots —
and Ironhead led the charge, its reinforced ramming prow gleaming.
Even if it hit an iceberg, Zhao didn’t care —
that was what the Ironhead was built for.
Each ship blazed with bright bonfires that cut huge gaps in the mist.
“Hey Ironhead! When we’re done patrolling, let’s grab a drink!”
messaged one of the men on the right flank.
“Don’t count on me paying!” Zhao shot back.
They’d already run this route three times without spotting any real danger —
just two icebergs, both blasted apart ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ already.
On their way back, Zhao was chatting and laughing with his crew —
when suddenly, a strange crackling sound reached his ears.
Zzzt! Zzzt! Zzzt! Zzzt! Zzzt!
The static grew louder and louder, continuous and sharp.
“Shit! RUN!”
Zhao Ironhead roared so loud that the other ships heard him too.
He immediately swung the bow around,
activating the Ironhead’s skill — Charge,
boosting its top speed by 50%.
For five full minutes, the 50-knot ship could hit 75 knots.
Then they fled like mad.
Behind them, shouts of alarm echoed —
Zhao glanced back and saw faint blue lights flickering in the fog.
***
Yang Yi added another armful of wood to the fire,
keeping it blazing strong.
He checked the log — it was about time for Suna to wake up and take over the helm.
But suddenly, the fog on his right seemed to brighten.
Yang Yi froze, then instantly drew his gun and switched to his triple-eye scope.
About a nautical mile away, a burning ship tore through the mist.
It was under thirty meters long, a regular ship moving at roughly 40 knots.
Its deck was crammed with bonfires —
from bow to stern, even the sails were aflame.
The captain didn’t seem to care.
And Yang Yi recognized the fuel immediately —
the burning things were Pale Worm corpses.
They’d been tied to wooden planks and stacked into huge flaming pyres.
Thanks to his triple-eye vision, which ignored fog and zoomed easily,
Yang Yi could see the captain clearly —
a naked man, standing at the bow, laughing hysterically
as he steered the blazing ship forward.
His mouth moved as he shouted:
“It’s burning! It’s all burning! HAHAHAHAHA!
Extreme Winter Sea, my ass — I’m sweating like hell out here!”
He scooped up a ladle of water from a barrel beside him
and dumped it over his body — the water hissed into steam,
turning his skin bright red.
So there he was, naked in the frozen wasteland, sweating buckets,
steaming like a sauna as he piloted his burning ship —
quickly disappearing into the fog, far ahead of the Nyxstar.
Yang Yi didn’t chase.
The man was clearly insane — he’d burn himself to death soon enough.
“What are you looking at?”
Suna’s voice came from behind; she was up for her shift.
“Nothing much. Just a lunatic on fire sailing past,”
Yang Yi replied.
“What!? Where!?”
Suna’s eyes lit up, scanning the direction he’d been watching.
“Was he mutated? Resistant to heat? Or maybe… he can breathe fire?” she asked eagerly.
“Uh… not quite that far yet,” Yang Yi said.