High Priest slowly stood up, but did not turn around.

"Charles Captain, my church needs you to find something. A holy relic of my Lord."

Chapter Five Fultonism High Priest

High Priest's voice was old and thick, as if his mouth was full of phlegm, making Charles extremely uncomfortable.

"Where is it?"

"Not far, on a newly discovered island to the left of the Coral Islands."

Charles continued to ask, "Why me? There are plenty of people and ships stronger than me."

"Hehehe, that place is a bit dangerous. We need a cautious captain."

Charles didn't believe his "a bit dangerous"—"a bit dangerous" wasn't worth a million Echo coins.

"I suppose I'm not the only one you've said this to? What happened to the others?"

High Priest replied with a hint of contempt, "Isn't Captain Charles the one who claims he wants to buy an exploration ship? If you're afraid of even this little danger, you hardly seem like the hero who will expand territory for humanity."

Seeing the red-robed figure dodge his question, Charles knew the fate of his predecessors couldn't have been good; that place must be very dangerous.

After thinking for a moment, he decided to take the job. Fortune favors the bold, and he couldn't afford to delay any longer.

As for danger? Where is it ever safe to sail these days? Nowhere on the Gea Sea is truly safe.

"Fine, but how can I be sure you'll keep your word?"

The Fultonism High Priest seemed quite reasonable. "I can deposit the payment in the England Bank and have them act as witnesses."

He paused for a few seconds, then continued, "I have a small question. Why is Captain Charles so eager to buy an exploration ship? Power? Echo coins? Or honor?"

Charles didn't bother to hide it. "To search for the Land of Light."

At these words, the red-robed figure shuddered, his old voice tinged with panic as he asked, "Searching for the Land of Light? You aren't with the Church of Light, are you?"

"No."

Hearing Charles's answer, High Priest finally breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. If you really were one of those heretics, we'd have to reconsider our deal. Don't get involved with them—those heretics are complete lunatics, a real cult!"

Hearing a Fultonism follower—who liked live sacrifices—say this, Charles couldn't help but want to laugh. Pot calling the kettle black. By surface standards, every religion in the Gea Sea was a cult; their rituals were as anti-human as it got.

When Charles left the confessional, the bald man called Hook entered, carrying a cup of blood, and respectfully placed it behind High Priest.

"Go sign the contract now and have him set out as soon as possible."

Hook nodded, then cautiously asked, "High Priest, do you think it will work this time?"

A black octopus tentacle stretched out from under the red robe, curling around the cup and pulling it inside. "Let's keep trying. This is only the ninth. Don't rush... The Lord's relic can only belong to us."

Wasting no time, Charles followed Hook to the largest bank on the Coral Islands.

When he saw the bald man write Fultonism on the contract, Charles was reassured. The contract now had the endorsement of the Coral Islands' governor. Fultonism couldn't break their promise; the price would be far more than a million if they did.

"Captain Charles, I heard your first mate left the ship?"

"Does that have anything to do with this?" Charles slipped the contract into his coat.

"Of course not. But to help you complete the mission quickly, we of Fultonism have selected a first mate for you. He has extensive sailing experience—please don't refuse."

Looking at the bald man before him, Charles frowned slightly. "To keep an eye on me?"

"No, he's just to guide you. That island is very remote; we're afraid you won't find it."

Charles didn't mind. For now, their interests aligned. No matter how crazy these people were, they wouldn't send someone to sabotage things at this stage.

"I'll set out at six o'clock, three days from now."

Three days later at the port, things were already getting lively. Teams of laborers moved cargo like ants.

Charles stood at the bow, waiting. The other crew members lounged on deck, chatting. There were two unfamiliar faces—new sailors. The previous sailor, Dean, had been promoted to boatswain.

The newly promoted young man looked excited, hands behind his back, acting like a veteran as he instructed the new sailors—even though they were all much older than him.

The chief engineer and the cook, however, weren't so carefree. They knew this mission wouldn't be so simple.

"James, I thought you'd leave the ship like John did," said the stick-thin cook, Frank.

"The captain saved my life. Wherever he goes, I go. Besides, the captain said the reward for this mission is generous. Once I get paid, I can propose to Mossica." Thinking of the wedding, the big man's face beamed with happiness.