Chapter 466 Twin Canyon

The Twin Oceans was a unique stretch of sea nestled among the mainland's Southern Archipelagos.

True to its "Twin" name, the waters here existed like a pair of twins—bearing different colors yet coexisting across a stark, distinct boundary.

One side was a clear, transparent blue reflecting the azure sky, while the other took on a rusty, clay-like brownish-red.

The two colors did not mix. There was not even a buffer zone of blended hues; instead, a tangible dividing line split them sharply into two halves, much like oil and water.

Viewed from high above, it looked as though some invisible force had forcibly stitched two entirely different seas together. It was a bizarre, peculiar sight.

No one knew what caused this natural phenomenon. Ever since the first adventurer from Barracuda Bay set foot here, the sea had been exactly like this.

People had asked the islanders who had lived in the nearby waters for generations, but their stories varied.

Some claimed it was a scar left behind from an ancient battle between Umberlee, the Goddess of the Ocean, and Valkur, the God of Sailors. Others said a powerful monster from the deepest reaches of the sky was buried at the bottom of the sea, its leaking blood dyeing the nearby waters red.

Over the years, many geologists and oceanographers had hired adventurer fleets to conduct in-person surveys. They concluded that the brownish-red sea was colored by the red clay and special iron-rich rock formations at the bottom.

However, no one could provide a credible explanation for why these two entirely different colors of seawater remained so cleanly separated. Ultimately, they could only chalk it up to a bizarre natural phenomenon driven by magical particles.

Driven by an interest in the local environment and a cautious approach toward the upcoming mission, Xia Nan had spent the nearly week-long voyage from Barracuda Bay asking his crewmates extensively for intel about this sea.

The Twin Oceans was not as simple as merely possessing two colors of seawater.

Its ecological environment, species, and even natural phenomena were vastly different from ordinary seas.

First, due to the different water densities and material compositions on either side of the boundary, sunlight underwent intense refraction along the dividing line.

From a distance, it looked like a faintly distorted, semi-transparent wall bulging in the air.

Birds unfamiliar with the local environment often suffered visual illusions because of this air wall, losing their sense of direction and plunging headfirst into the sea.

Second, perhaps long ago, before these waters underwent such a transformation, the local animal ecology had been no different from anywhere else.

But after thousands of years of isolated evolution, the animals living in the Twin Oceans had gradually evolved forms completely distinct from their original species.

Case in point: the Scorch-Neck Whorl-Tooth Sharks that had attacked the Blade of Vengeance Ship earlier, and the bizarre ribbonfish Xia Nan currently held, which had entirely different colored scales on its left and right sides.

'Hmm...' People said this heterochromatic fish, unique to the Twin Oceans, tasted extraordinary. Its meat was firm, and cooking it brought out a salty tang unique to the local minerals. Xia Nan couldn't help but feel a flicker of anticipation.

Finally, because of the unique properties of the Twin Oceans' seawater, the sea salt produced here had a much deeper flavor. It was a premium ingredient for curing meat or cooking, making it highly sought after on the market. The rich mineral deposits on the seabed also fueled an exceptionally prosperous ecology, nourishing countless strangely shaped marine creatures.

Xia Nan dropped the heterochromatic ribbonfish into a wooden bucket and looked up, his gaze sweeping past the deck and into the distance.

On that vast sea extending endlessly toward the horizon, a straight, invisible line split the entire world in half.

One side was the profound azure of the ocean, while the other was a striking, rusty brownish-red with a hue so intense it almost looked murky.

The air subtly distorted along the boundary line. Waves intertwined and clashed here, splashing up crystal-clear droplets tinged with red.

A seagull squawked as it flew overhead, but its feathers were not the usual pure white. Instead, they were a brownish-red gradient, as if reflecting the color of the sea below.

Especially when it flapped its wings and crossed that invisible boundary between the waters, the brownish-red sea below made its reddish-brown plumage seem to echo the waves.

"Crash!"

A noticeably louder roar of a wave suddenly reached his ears.

He followed the sound and saw the two colors of seawater colliding and convecting at the distant boundary, as if two giant invisible hands were squeezing them inward. They formed a spectacular, stair-like surge of waves stretching for kilometers.

"This is the 'Water Ladder' phenomenon unique to the Twin Oceans," Hein explained to the inland-born Xia Nan, having finished her meditation and walked down from the bow as they neared their destination.

"I heard scholars in Barracuda Bay analyze the specifics. They say it's a type of convection formed during certain seasons due to the temperature difference between the two sides."

Xia Nan had not been a physicist in his past life. He had graduated years ago, and most of the knowledge he learned in class had long been returned to his teachers. He had no idea if her explanation made sense.

But he was not the type to split hairs or stubbornly dig into dead ends. Since the druid explained it that way, he simply took her word for it.

To be honest, this so-called "Water Ladder" truly was spectacular.

Especially after a dull voyage of nearly seven days, where he had grown completely sick of the vast, open sea stretching out around them.

Suddenly stumbling upon this scene—just the magnificent sight of red and blue intertwining and colliding—left a profound impression on Xia Nan.

Beside him, Hein usually didn't show much emotion, looking perfectly accustomed to life at sea.

Right now, however, she couldn't help but feel a stir of excitement, eagerly introducing the unique local phenomena to Xia Nan:

"The locals call the place where these two seas meet the 'Boundary of the Gods'."

"Occasionally, when storm waterspouts form, the differing environments on both sides create a bizarre, dual-colored spiral spectacle."

"I saw it with my own eyes once. Half was ink-black rain clouds, and the other half was red cumulus clouds. It was breathtaking."

"I've heard that some lucky sailors have even seen a rainbow stretching across the two seas. The colors are..."

She was only halfway through her sentence when a spirited shout rang out from the edge of the deck.

The Halfling, Alton, was standing directly on the railing. He still clutched his fishing rod, but his eyes were captivated by something else entirely as he excitedly called out to Xia Nan.

"Hey, Xia Nan, look! It's a rainbow!"

They followed his gaze.

What leaped into view was a bizarre, sharply contoured rainbow with vivid colors, its two ends touching down on opposite sides of the sea's dividing line.

As if influenced by the waters of the Twin Oceans, its overall hue carried a faint reddish tint—an incredibly rare sight, even though the shifting colors across its surface remained distinct.

Hein shut her mouth and remained silent.

The Blade of Vengeance Ship sailed on.

Clearly experienced in navigating these waters, the Blade of Vengeance Ship didn't rashly charge into the brownish-red inland sea. Sailing for long periods through water so rich in minerals and clay would damage the ship's hull.

Having just survived the siege of the Spiral-Toothed Shark School, the Blade of Vengeance Ship had only undergone simple, temporary repairs. They needed to be as careful as possible.

Naturally, they also avoided the convection currents near the boundary line to keep from disrupting the ship's balance and sailing efficiency.

Instead, they maintained a parallel course alongside the dividing line and pushed forward.

Soon, amid the intense preparations of the crew on deck, the Blade of Vengeance adventurer fleet finally caught sight of their destination:

Twin Canyon.

Right on that perfectly straight line splitting the Twin Oceans in two, amidst the clash and intertwining of brownish-red and azure, lay a massive island.

Like a boulder that had fallen from the sky and cracked apart, the island was similarly sliced in half by the "Boundary of the Gods."

In that moment, the islanders' legend that the Twin Oceans was born of a war between deities seemed strongly corroborated.

After all, Xia Nan struggled to imagine what kind of geological activity could possibly split an island into two neat halves like this.

And by an even greater coincidence, the reason it was crowned a "canyon"—a massive ravine running perpendicular to the coastline, tearing straight from one end of the island to the other—perfectly overlapped with the dividing line of the Twin Oceans.

It was as if an invisible blade truly had followed the "Boundary of the Gods" and cleaved the island in two.

Black cliffs surged upward, casting towering, abyssal shadows over the sea, while the other side was bathed in golden sunlight, forging a stark contrast.

Hearing the commotion on deck, Lorraine walked out of the cabin with a cigarette dangling from her lips. She gazed at Twin Canyon in the distance, then turned and took the helm from the helmsman.

"Lower the sails!" Ryan, the older brother of the twin Warriors, shouted the command.

The sails that had been billowing outward in the sea breeze slowly furled to the rhythmic chanting of the sailors. The Blade of Vengeance Ship's speed gradually dropped, but its maneuverability sharply increased.

Flexing her arms, Lorraine wrenched the helm violently toward the north. The bow, previously parallel to the dividing line, veered abruptly and charged straight into the seawater's convection currents.

There were beaches around Twin Canyon, but approaching them recklessly would only lead to running aground.

The island's docks were built deep within the canyon. They had to follow the dividing line all the way in to reach them.

"Boom!"

The deck beneath their feet creaked and groaned under the impact of the waves, as if they had been sucked into a whirlpool. A small wooden ship simply couldn't withstand the violently clashing currents that stretched for countless kilometers.

The Blade of Vengeance Ship heaved and violently pitched through the waves, bucking up and down.

If the weather hadn't remained clear, and if the sea outside the boundary hadn't stayed calm, Xia Nan would have thought they'd sailed straight into another storm.

Fortunately, the crew had made preparations before Lorraine took the helm. They had wrapped hemp ropes around their waists over and over, firmly securing their bodies and the supplies in the cabin. Thus, they avoided any unnecessary losses.

As they pushed forward, Twin Canyon gradually revealed its towering, majestic silhouette to the crew.

The rock walls on both sides were exceedingly high. The dark gray sea cliffs were smooth, carpeted in damp moss and lichen. Occasional trickles of water, like tiny streams, tumbled from the crevices into the sea with a crisp, echoing splash.

The sunlight was quietly shut out, and the air temperature plummeted. Coupled with the looming shadows cast by the cliffs, it gave off an inexplicably eerie vibe.

The seawater remained dual-colored, but once inside the canyon, the colliding convection currents lost their previous ferocity, masked by the wake churning behind the ship.

The bustling atmosphere that had sparked on deck at the sight of the Twin Oceans gradually cooled. The sailors no longer excitedly discussed the magnificent scenery; instead, they devolved into anxious whispers.

The adventurers' behavior, meanwhile, was rather abnormal.

Xia Nan and Alton were newcomers who hadn't been on the ship for long, so they didn't understand the situation.

But veterans like Hein and Sasha wore inexplicably solemn expressions.

One by one, they leaned against the deck railings, craning their bodies outward, or strode directly to the bow to gaze into the distance.

Noticing their stares, Xia Nan followed their line of sight.

He saw that the rock walls on both sides ahead, dozens of feet above sea level, were densely carved with caves and tunnels.

Layer upon layer stacked together. Looking up from the bottom of the canyon, it resembled a massive honeycomb forged of stone.

Some cave entrances had rope-and-iron ladders dangling down, connecting to extended wooden platforms below where fishing nets and clothes were drying.

Others featured suspended pavilions built on the cliff face out of light yet sturdy wood, linked together by crude but practical covered bridges.

Bridges built from suspension cables and wooden planks poked out of the caves, stretching clear across the canyon to the other side.

Clearly, the islanders here had formed their own culture and unique way of life.

Xia Nan had always been interested in the local customs of this alternate world.

But right now did not seem to be the time for his curiosity.

Obvious traces of human habitation could be seen among the dense caves dotting the rock walls on both sides.

Whether it was the drying clothes or the flickering light of flames, everything indicated that a large number of people had lived here very recently.

Yet now, aside from the sailors' whispers, the wind and waves, and the groaning of the ship's timber, Xia Nan couldn't hear a single trace of the clamor that should have filled a human settlement.

Only a dead silence lingered in his ears.

And a faint stench of blood lingering deep in the humid air—still detectable even after being battered by the canyon's rushing sea breeze—seemed to announce exactly what had happened here.

"All hands on alert!" Lorraine's low shout from the helm rang with startling clarity.

The whispers on deck instantly vanished. The crew wore focused, tense expressions as they all gripped their weapons tightly.

Flicking her burnt-out cigarette into the sea, Lorraine kept both hands firmly on the helm, but her sharply defined jaw tilted upward, her gaze lifting.

Her fiery red hair fluttered in the wind. Her reddish-brown eyes reflected a wooden bridge between the distant cliffs—a bridge that had been completely snapped and now hung limply against the side.

Her expression was grave.