The ocean—vast, magnificent, deep, and boundless.
No words were needed; Teacher Yang already understood exactly what Jill Young wanted. He searched all over the Elven Kingdom, going to great lengths to pick out this particular bay—precisely because its geology was unique. It was an exceptionally rare, ultra-deep water bay.
Here, the continental shelf of Middle-earth narrows inward—or, you could say, the exposed land of Middle-earth juts out toward the continental shelf—making this bay extraordinarily deep.
Downward, ever downward, Jill Young didn’t use her arms or legs to swim; her whole body rippled with muscle, sending waves of force from her head down to her feet. These waves stirred the water, creating synchronized ripples from head to toe, wrapping her in shimmering rings. It looked stunning, but in reality, it was a powerful current.
It made her like the most advanced underwater thruster, or the fastest torpedo, zipping straight toward the deeper ocean floor.
Ten meters, twenty meters—human divers with regular gear usually only make it this far.
Thirty meters, fifty meters—schools of fish roam here, but Jill Young’s sudden appearance sends them scattering in all directions.
A hundred meters, two hundred meters—the sunlight struggles through the thick layers of water, barely reaching this depth. Everything starts turning pitch black.
Five hundred meters, six hundred meters—most nuclear submarines can only dive this deep. The pressure is immense, enough to warp alloy hulls.
Eight hundred meters, a thousand meters—only specialized underwater probes made of superalloy can reach this far. This depth marks the boundary between the world humans know and the mysterious unknown.