Damon scratched at the faint fog drifting across the distant sea, his expression calm and detached.
Or perhaps it was more accurate to say he had been sufficiently traumatized by the ocean.
These dark waters hid far too many things.
Though, for the moment, the sea was no longer dark. The cursed depths had given way to clear blue water stretching endlessly beneath the sky.
They were now close to the shores of the Demon Continent.
The ship itself had been damaged in several places. The battle scars were obvious in the cracked planks and patched sails. Because of that, they had changed their original plan.
Instead of continuing deeper into dangerous waters, they had drifted slightly past where the Graveyard of Gods should have been.
It was risky.
The demons of the continent could potentially discover them at any time.
But it was still far better than sinking into those cursed waters.
Damon rubbed his forehead.
