Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World-Chapter 438: Northern Exploration Team 2

TL: Etude Translations

As they prepared to leave, Stanford arranged for two linguistically skilled members of the exploration team to stay behind. Their task was to learn the local language and become translators, preparing for future in-depth communication.

Then, the entire fleet continued its voyage northward. In the subsequent land explorations, the fleet encountered many indigenous tribes. Among them were orc tribes with whom they could communicate and trade, and there were also human tribes that attempted to attack and plunder their goods. This slightly softened the exploration team’s harsh impressions of different races.

Continuing further north (strictly speaking, in a northwest direction), the temperature began to drop due to both geographical and seasonal reasons. If their records were correct, they had now entered winter.

Eventually, the exploration team encountered a situation terrifying for many of its members—the days became shorter and shorter, until they experienced twenty-four hours of darkness.

“O Father in Heaven, may Your mighty power protect us sinners!”

The crew members were in a constant state of panic, often kneeling on the deck to pray to their gods.

Faced with the team’s panic, Commander Stanford had to gather everyone for a “scientific explanation.”

“In our Northwestern Bay, there are four seasons in a year. It is common knowledge that summer days are long and nights short, and vice versa in winter. In recent years, many of you must have accompanied the fleet to the south for trade, and you might have noticed that the further south we go, the less pronounced this difference becomes. A clear example is the Horn Bay to the south of the Kingdom of Ordo, where the length of day and night hardly changes throughout the year. Conversely, the further north we go, the more extreme the variation between day and night. Therefore, I speculate that this phenomenon of twenty-four hours of darkness is a natural occurrence.”

Hearing the commander’s explanation, some seasoned sailors began to calm down. Combining their own experiences, they found Stanford’s reasoning quite plausible.

Although there were still many who were half-convinced, the fleet finally stabilized.

After groping in the darkness for nearly a week, they witnessed a magnificent sight they had never seen before—a giant, tangible curtain of light enveloping the fleet, interwoven with green, purple, and blue colors. It looked like cotton and gauze, decorating the entire night sky with resplendent beauty, with countless bright stars strewn across it, signifying the brilliance and grandeur of the universe and the supreme power of the Creator.

“O Father in Heaven!”

Commander Stanford, who had just been “educating” his crew, was struck with awe the moment he stepped out of the cabin, falling to his knees on the deck.

His eyes moistened, and at that moment, he prayed earnestly, hands clasped together.

If not for the all-knowing, all-powerful Lord of Light, what else in the world could create such a miracle?

No one laughed at his behavior, as other members were similarly overwhelmed and knelt in a dense crowd on the deck.

A miracle! Indeed, this was a true miracle!

Unfortunately, the miracle lasted only thirty minutes before disappearing, but everyone was still not able to recover from the immense shock.

Stanford solemnly recorded the miracle they encountered in the ship’s log with clear handwriting.

After the miracle, many in the team began to demand a return voyage, believing that this place was sacred and that continuing to travel would be a desecration of the divine.

Although his faith had just been recharged, Commander Stanford, remembering his mission, was not swayed by these remarks.

Under his command, the fleet continued to sail in the land of eternal night—a name given by the exploration team to this area of water and land.

But unfortunately, disaster struck soon after. Stanford’s command ship hit a reef and sank.

The accusations of desecrating the divine could no longer be suppressed. Coupled with the increasingly unbearable cold, everyone strongly demanded a return journey.

“Sigh, if only the bottom of the ship had been divided into separate small cabins. If one cabin took on water, it wouldn’t affect the whole. This must be a great idea; I need to mention it to the shipyard when we return.”

As Stanford transferred to another ship, his thoughts weren’t about divine punishment, but about how to improve the ships.

Unfortunately, more than a dozen members of the exploration team failed to make it aboard and perished in the icy sea.

Under these circumstances, he could no longer ignore the opinions of the crew, especially since the sinking of the command ship meant the loss of nearly half their supplies. Consequently, Stanford ordered the exploration team, now reduced to two ships, to turn around and head back.

However, their misfortune seemed unending. During the return voyage, a quiet epidemic began to spread among them.

Initially confined to one ship, the disease soon spread to the other. With limited medical resources, the explorers found the disease deadly, with crew members succumbing to it almost daily.

The team members increasingly believed they were cursed for desecrating sacred ground.

Stanford felt immense pressure. Such misfortunes were not uncommon in long voyages, but in these remote, unfamiliar waters, far from civilization, the negative emotions were magnified countless times, and mysticism prevailed.

Finally, the Northern Exploration Team, battered and bruised, returned to the Deer Tribe (a name they learned later), the tribe with which they had traded previously.

The exploration team, which had started with three hundred members, was now reduced to just over a hundred. This came as a shock to the translators-in-training who had stayed behind at the Deer Tribe to learn the language.

After offering some of their goods as compensation, the exploration team was allowed to recuperate in the Deer Tribe.

However, when they had regained their strength and were ready to set sail again, they found their bad luck had not yet ended—the natural harbor they used for temporary mooring had frozen overnight.

According to Stanford’s plan, the exploration team decided to spend the winter at the Deer Tribe and sail south when the ice thawed the following year.

However, the loss of their transportation intensified some members’ longing for home.

Having witnessed the miracle, and then experiencing a series of misfortunes such as shipwrecks, disease, and the harbor freezing, these people believed they were cursed for blaspheming against the gods and would not survive this ordeal. They thought even if they escaped one disaster, more calamities awaited.

Hence, they wished to spend their final moments on land closer to their homes in the Northwestern Bay.

Ignoring orders, these members insisted on returning to the Kingdom of Ordo by land.

“Alright, if you’re so determined, then I’ll join you on this journey,” Stanford decided.

Long ago, Stanford had been an adventurer skilled in wilderness survival. He believed his experience could help his mentally despondent subordinates.

Feeling responsible as the commander, regardless of whether he was directly to blame for the team’s plight, Stanford ordered his deputy to stay and command the fleet. He then set off with thirty of his men, leading ten domesticated reindeer from the tribe, carrying food and wearing thick clothing made from animal hides, embarking on the journey back south.

What lay ahead for them was an endless primitive forest and countless indigenous tribes, whose hostility or friendliness was unknown.