The sea beyond the Dawn Islands had transformed into a living nightmare. Where once calm waters reflected the sky, now stretched an endless mirror of blood, its surface shimmering with unnatural viscosity under the Red Moon's malignant gaze. The very air tasted of rust and salt, clinging to the lips like the aftertaste of a fresh wound.
Then came the ships.
Twenty floating cathedrals of war, each large enough to dock entire villages along their gilded decks. Their hulls, plated with divine alloys that shimmered like liquid sunlight, cut through the corrupted waters with impossible grace. Massive sails of woven silver thread billowed not with wind, but with raw celestial energy, their surfaces etched with glowing scriptures that pulsed in time with the paladins' chants below. At each prow stood a towering statue of the Holy Order's Deities, their stone eyes weeping golden tears that sizzled where they struck the tainted sea.
