At the deepest level beneath the Sanctuary, at the very bottom of the Law Enforcement Hall, a giant cistern loomed like a dark moon, with nearly two meters to the ceiling. From the platform, the water lay ten meters deep, clear as glass, the bottom shining like a mirror in a still lake.

Cerqin and the other three drifted on the surface like slack corpses riding a quiet tide.

“Water pressure and buoyancy mess with a limp body way too much…” Her voice thinned like mist, weary but afloat.

The potion kept them from choking on the waves, yet play in water wasn’t the same as frolics on a mattress; it felt like moving through silk and salt.

“We can fix some of that with potions, and making the diving gear ahead was the right call,” someone said, steady as a metronome in a rainstorm.

“You’ve mapped the route through the zones, right?” The question came like a pebble dropped in a pond.

“More or less. But getting a knight squad to enable our nonsense—are we really okay with that?” Silver Luan’s words skated like wind over water.

“The knight squads already carry heavy loads,” she added, knowing their grind like a deckhand knows ropes.

“It’s still better than hiring adventurers. In deep water, you get giant sea beasts surfacing like islands; knights make it safer,” Spring Tide said, easy as a rolling swell.

“And if you really find a sea-crystal vein or any rare resource, keeping it all in-house is steadier, like a ship under your own flag.”

“Fine…” Cerqin sighed, then backstroked toward Aileaf, the motion pale as moonlight on waves, and poked her side where her belly faced the sky. Aileaf didn’t move, a stone under water, letting Cerqin prod away.

After a long minute, Aileaf tilted her head a fraction, voice weak as a dying ember. “What?”

“Why do you look more exhausted than me? Didn’t the Love God’s blessing top you up?” Cerqin kept floating, her cheek turned, confusion rippling like a shallow tide.

“I’m thinking about a potion to change body shape, even briefly. Being wedged between you two is agony, like a boulder in a narrow stream…”

Cerqin laughed, bright as spray. “Haha, Aileaf, you finally get my daily suffering, right?”

“For you, it’s probably not suffering,” Aileaf murmured, dry as driftwood.

“Kinda true…” Cerqin conceded, grin fading like a sunset.

They returned to their rooms late at night, finding water-play harder than imagined, especially with outfits cut like petals, fabric light as foam. The cloth snagged like seaweed; it refused to behave.

Spring Tide planned little tweaks to the heavier garments, changing spots that caught like hooks, so play wouldn’t get tangled mid-current. She rushed the finished pieces out again, like gulls sent ahead of a storm.

At dawn, Spring Tide went straight to the office, brisk as a salt breeze. The other three lazed on the bed for half the morning, then rose to check their gear, methodical as sailors counting knots.

They were set to depart in the afternoon; time felt ample, wide as a bay at low tide.

Once the modified diving suits arrived, the three met the knight squad first, the air bristling like rigging in a busy harbor.

The squad leader was a familiar face, Baili, steady as an iron anchor.

Once the group assembled, they walked toward the pier while hashing out pickup times, their talk flowing like a tide chart.

“Expect about a month,” someone said, the estimate flat as a compass line. “The potions’ duration is roughly that.”

“To be safe, let the ship anchor inside the zone and wait. We’ll stock around two months of rations, thick as grain in a granary.”

“In deep water, is a medium ship too tight a fit?” Cerqin asked, doubt flickering like a shadow under a wave. In those depths, giant sea monsters appeared now and then like moving reefs.

A medium ship anchored for a month in deep water wasn’t exactly safe; its teeth weren’t sharp enough, its hide not thick enough.

“With Baili there, we shouldn’t worry too much, right?” Silver Luan’s confidence rang like steel on steel; she knew Baili’s mettle from hours in the knights’ camp.

Before Silver Luan reached Seventh Rank, they’d already sparred, blades singing like thunder. As a veteran Sixth Rank, Baili didn’t fear the scattered deep-water beasts; guarding a ship was just weather.

Baili hit harder than Qianli, her presence like a storm-front.

But Baili shook her head, calm as a lighthouse blinking. “Even though I’m leading the pickup, I’ve got another mission. I won’t stay aboard the stationed ship.”

“A mission?” Cerqin asked, curiosity lifting like a gull.

In Eastern Sea City, the Sanctuary’s knights handled internal duties and the trouble missions the Adventurers’ Association couldn’t chew through, like bones stuck in a throat.

As one of the Holy Maiden’s guard captains, Baili usually oversaw patrols and subjugations outside the city walls, moving like a hawk over fields.

Cerqin had once suggested to Spring Tide that Baili suited paperwork, crisp as ink on vellum, but Spring Tide had smiled: Baili liked beast-fighting more than Qianli—blood and iron over quills and ledgers.

“A subjugation?” Cerqin asked, breath held like a sail.

“Yeah. It’s a troublesome creature, so I’ll take two people on a small boat and search,” Baili said, tone taut as bowstring.

“If you can, save me some materials?” Cerqin’s eyes glinted like wet stone; high-rank materials were worth it no matter the beast’s face.

Baili nodded, then added, voice warm as sun on tar. “If the stationed ship is safe, there’s nothing to fear. It’s a medium hull, sure, but it’s still a battleship.”

“A battleship? Then we’re fine…” Cerqin relaxed, a knot loosening in her chest.

A battleship wasn’t the same as a common ship; even at the same size, the gap was sky-and-earth. Cerqin knew that much, though she’d never seen a true warship. Curiosity sparked like flint; she wanted to see its fangs.

The three, plus Baili and a knight squad of about twenty, reached the Sanctuary’s harbor and stopped before a behemoth resting in the water, black as a sleeping leviathan.

“I’ve wanted to gripe about this for ages…” Silver Luan stared at the massive black battleship, surprise flickering like a candle in wind.

“In raw force, the Sanctuary outmuscles other churches by a long stride, even though it holds no land,” she said, wonder humming like a low drum.

“We can’t say we hold no land at all…” Baili scratched her head, sheepish as a cat.

“The church’s power map is a tangled reef. Our Sanctuary is its oddest breaker-line, a strange current among currents.”

“It’s not like we’ve got zero turf,” Cerqin cut in, voice light as spray. “Eastern Sea City has a lord and native families, but calling it a Sanctuary city isn’t off the mark. The Sanctuary doesn’t do management or taxes, though.”

“The city lord wouldn’t complain, right?” someone asked, wry as brine.

“Fair point…” Baili conceded, the thought drifting like fog.

The black medium battleship looked fierce, a steel whale in a calm basin. It already had its regular crew aboard, men and women moving like ants across planks.

The captain and hands handled the helm and daily tasks; once everyone embarked, the knights broke to their stations, orderly as stars finding constellations.

They ran full checks and handed over weapon-control protocols, gears and runes clicking like clockwork in a tower.

Baili walked Cerqin and the others through the ship, strolling like tourists on a fortress wall.

“Classic magical battleship design,” Silver Luan said, eye tracing lines like a draftsman. “Stronger than our Half Dragonkin mainline warships, and the layout feels familiar.”

“You Half Dragonkin have ships like this?” Cerqin asked, curious as a cat.

“Sure. Our big clans live among sea archipelagos and the continent’s edges, hair salted by wind.”

Baili started explaining the loadout, excitement glowing like embers under armor. “It’s normal for Silver Luan to find it familiar. The Black Dragon Battleship was bought from the Sea Dragon clan.”

“In shipbuilding, the Sea Dragons are famous across the Eastern nations, especially for raw weapon power. The Black Dragon’s main cannon hits like a Sixth Rank full-force strike. Its magic shields can tank several peak Sixth Rank hits. Among medium hulls, this setup sits at the top like a mountain.”

“Why does Baili look excited…” Cerqin whispered, watching Baili exult over calibers and shielding, scratching her head as if at a puzzling tide, then muttered to Aileaf.

“I heard from little Qianli that little Baili’s kind of a closet berserker,” Aileaf said, dry thunder in her tone.

“For real?” Cerqin blinked, a sudden jolt like a fish bite, then remembered that scene back in the imperial city, when she’d slipped into Baili and Qianli’s room in soul form and seen—well, enough.

“Seems true. Didn’t expect Baili to adore these violent toys so much,” she quipped, gaze roaming over the Black Dragon Battleship, eyes catching every fang and scale.

The all-black hull breathed a killing aura, like a night tide ready to break. Its color came from a special metal skin sheathing the body, a dull starlight that blurred mana scans like clouds hide the moon.