The night passed normally, most of the sailors passed out in their nets, there was no room to mourn the death of another sailor. Only 6 sailors were left alive, and the job only got harder for the survivors, further diminishing their chances of reaching port alive.

It had already been 3 whole weeks since the mutiny, according to the estimates provided by the captain they needed to endure another 3 weeks at this rate to achieve it, but they had already lost one of the sailors, and the wear and tear only accumulated.

Ricardo spent the full night thinking about Taras's words, knowing him and from the tone he had used, it was very likely that they were his last words. If Taras was wrong and died tonight, then Ricardo would have to prepare a plan on his own to survive these 3 weeks.

'A plan... if everything the old man said really happens, today I have to sleep as usual, otherwise they'll notice that I know something... How the hell am I going to sleep knowing that in 3 weeks I'm going to die if I don't, nothing, even if Taras made a mistake and didn't die, my body is getting worse and worse and that's undeniable...' Ricardo reflected as he tried to sleep.

Ricardo knew that the situation was complicated, Ron was an immortal beast, if he went against him, he would crush him like a whale falling from the sky above him. Wiliam was an old turtle who had more than 60 years of experience in the sea. Dima is a cunning and treacherous fox, to the point that she had already used him as bait once.

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Ricardo finally fell asleep, now the only important thing was to pretend not to know anything for a while, then he would continue with his plan, if William doubted him, he would be the next to receive the lashes.

"Time to wake up!" Ron shouted in the corridor of the cabin.

Ricardo woke up with a start, restrained himself from trying to look at Taras to see if he was still alive, and went to the deck as he normally would.

To his relief, Taras was also on the deck, but following his words it would be better not to talk about it and even less so in the middle of the deck, it seemed that Taras was also ignoring him, so they both kept silent and tactical distances.

"The two boys start cleaning, there is still Calix's blood on the floor, the rest to work" Ron gave the order and went to unfurl the sails to start another long day of sailing.

Ricardo heard the order and looked for the mop, along with Taras, neither of them spoke on the way.

"Ricardo, go to the rudder part to clean, I'll go to the deck" Taras said as he grabbed the mop, he didn't seem to be in a very good mood by the tone.

"Well, good luck with that" Ricardo said, grateful, the deck part was much more complicated to clean than the helmsman part

Cleaning up the blood of a traveling companion never puts you in a good mood, but it was easier than the task that the other sailors had to do, for which Ricardo blessed his luck to have his identity as a cabin boy and not a sailor. Though, he no longer knew if he was cleaning Calix's blood or another sailor's…or his own blood.