Begging and Begging Again (2)
The ship returned to Gryu Telz after just three days at sea, driven back by storms and dwindling supplies. The harbor looked no different from when we had left.
“Counting the heads will take a while, so please wait a little longer.”
In those three days we had captured eight pirate ships. Each carried roughly twenty to nearly forty crew, and I had opened the fighting on every last one of them.
By the end I was dropping half the pirates before the warships even closed in, so the bounty ought to be respectable.
Especially since the soldiers and adventurers had begged me to ease up, claiming I was leaving them nothing to do.
“Looking at it like this, seems the knight’s going to scoop up the whole reward, doesn’t it?”
Dev fretted beside me with open envy. This from the man who had cherry-picked only captains, first mates, and navigators for the separate bounties.
“They still cut me down to half because I’m not a proper adventurer.”
“You got half despite not being one.”
“Ha. Listen to the guy who came in last overall.”
“……! I simply have no greed for money……!”
While the two of them bantered back and forth I claimed a table in the guild-run tavern. Evening mealtime had arrived, after all.
“Still doesn’t change the fact you came in last, does it?”
“Ha. I still took more heads than you.”
“All small fry, though. I only went after the high-value ones.”
“Is that something to brag about? You just hid and waited for openings!”
I dunked a chunk of bread into the tomato stew. The thick, viscous red reminded me for a second of the sacks of severed pirate heads I had handed over to the guild earlier, but hunger quickly buried the thought.
Three days of seasickness had left me starving.
“It is something to brag about! You think sniping the target you want in the middle of a brawl is easy?”
“Ha! A scoundrel who doesn’t even know the meaning of fair play!”
“What fair play in a fight?!”
“Salad’s ready.”
I lifted my fork toward the long-awaited salad—then watched the tines tremble. Bang. Right on cue the Inquisitor slammed the table.
“As I said, underhanded—”
“Either shut up or get out of my sight before I cut your tongues out.”
Honestly, kids. Arguing at the table is one thing, but pounding on it? What if the food spills?
“S-sorry.”
“I didn’t do a thing.”
“You bastard!”
“Is ‘bastard’ the only word you know?”
I sighed inwardly as Round Two threatened to start over the slightest pretext.
I needed to get food into these kids. A thoroughly Korean impulse flickered through my mind for a second—then the concept took priority.
Thud.
“Urgh!”
“Wha—!”
“Did I say something funny?”
I kicked both their chairs out from under them beneath the table. Dev first, then the slower-to-react Inquisitor. Their chairs tipped backward and dumped them in their own respective styles.
“That’s going too far, boss!”
“B-because of you, I—!”
Kids, you know exactly what my concept’s temper is like. Why poke it?
I sighed again inside while outwardly setting my jaw and resting a hand on my sword hilt in silence.
The grumbling pair finally quieted.
“Truce during mealtime.”
“Fine by me.”
…Are these two secretly best friends or what?
“I told you to get lost.”
The truce had already come too late anyway. Go sit at another table, you little mutts.
“We were in the middle of— Why are you all eating so far apart?”
“Ah, Archmage.”
So much for a quiet meal. The Archmage arrived and asked in a faintly awkward tone. Our deliberate split across three widely separated tables made the reason plain enough.
“Why d’you think? Because of that stiff-necked lady over there.”
“Like you’re blameless!”
The Inquisitor started the fights more often, but Dev kept them going longer, so he wasn’t entirely wrong. Either way the Archmage looked pained.
“…Well, you’ve nearly finished, so gather on one side, would you?”
He sat at my table as he spoke.
I had planned to stay put if he chose anywhere else, but he saw right through it. As expected of a mage who truly understood concepts—aside from the parts he over-interpreted into tragic misunderstandings!
“While you were away, things progressed somewhat.”
Cutting to the chase, he calmly laid out recent events.
The lord who revered the Sea Dragon was still dragging his feet half in doubt; the Magic Tower had declared it would join only reluctantly; and only the temple was actually doing its job. The roundabout phrasing made that much clear.
Their utter incompetence felt depressingly realistic. It brought back the nightmare of university group projects.
“Still, don’t worry too much. Once the dragon-hunting plan is solidly in place, they won’t be able to pull out any longer.”
Perhaps my expression had turned particularly foul; the Archmage hurriedly added the reassurance.
“I see. Then is that plan coming together well?”
When the Inquisitor asked with pure innocence, he fell silent for a moment. Not so much blindsided as… hit with a sudden wave of existential exhaustion.
I grasped the situation instantly. Classic group-project leader energy.
“…The conditions are extremely harsh. Everyone is still reviewing the safest, most effective methods.”
Translation: nothing has been decided yet.
“Which is why… I wanted to hear your opinions. After all, we are the ones who will have to face the dragon on the front lines.”
Translation: the others are either doing nothing or spouting whatever suits them, so the Archmage had finally come to us for help.
If we offered something solid, he would probably shove it down the throats of the freeloaders.
“I have two rough ideas so far.”
“…Wow, Archmage, have you been doing all the work yourself?”
“Ahem. I have fewer things I need to take into account, after all.”
“That’s some serious self-sacrifice right there.”
Dev, who like me had immediately understood the Archmage’s plight, looked at him with pity. Only the Inquisitor, who took everything at face value, tilted her head in confusion.
She probably didn’t even know why the word “sacrifice” had come up.
“What plans have you considered?”
“Ah. One is to fight at sea; the other is to lure it onto land.”
Thankfully that kept us from digressing further.
The Archmage drew a scroll from his robes and unrolled it—a map of the local region alone.
“If we lure it, Gamak Bay would be ideal. Cliffs on both flanks and a sandy beach in the center.”
“True… attacking from both sides would be effective.”
“But can we even lure it?”
“That’s what we’re stuck on. Eyewitness accounts exist, yet no records from anyone who actually fought the Sea Dragon. There’s no guarantee a lure will work.”
In other words, all we knew about the Sea Dragon was its appearance. Skills, patterns, traits—nothing.
A pure head-on blind run. Add party infighting and you had the perfect wipe setup.
“Moreover, luring usually means enraging the beast and drawing it after you… yet no ship is faster than a Sea Dragon on the open ocean.”
“Hmm.”
“But by that logic, fighting at sea is just as bad, right? If the dragon flips the sea, everyone drowns.”
“Exactly the problem.”
He shrugged and explained that a sea battle would have to become a war of attrition—dozens of ships surrounding the dragon and hammering it.
Reasonable enough, given that one thrash of the tail could sink a vessel. The city and Magic Tower supplying all that manpower would hate it, of course.
“Either way, ships that can withstand the dragon will be crucial.”
“Yes… When I pressed that point, the Magic Tower fortunately managed to secure one ship. A warship designed by the Tower itself under commission from the lord of Canabes. It wasn’t built specifically to fight dragons, but it has comparable functions installed.”
Canabes? Another new place name popping up lately. My head throbbed. I was the sort of person who still couldn’t memorize all the cities in Korea.
“…Just one?”
“Ships like that aren’t made every day.”
“Well, true…”
“Still better than nothing. I don’t know how a warship like that got built when they weren’t even planning to hunt a dragon.”
“Canabes suffers the worst from the Yabad pirates. They likely built it to hunt privateers.”
I might not know the rest, but a coastal city plagued by pirates—that I understood. Good enough.
It would come up again if needed. Given how pirates kept appearing, we would probably get tangled with them again soon enough.
“Is Canabes just handing it over quietly? They paid for it, after all.”
“I’d like to say ‘for the sake of the entire Western Sea they have no choice,’ but that isn’t the case. The lord or the Magic Tower will probably have to offer something in return. Still, whatever they trade, why should we care?”
“Yeah, fair enough.”
As Dev said, that was good enough. As long as we weren’t the ones paying, it wasn’t our business. Yep.
“Is the Archmage here?!”
Someone flung the guild-hall doors open hard and strode in. The similar robes suggested another mage.
“You were looking for me?”
“Ah! There you are!”
The young mage hurried over and thrust out several scraps of paper.
We pretended not to look; whatever was written there had to be both important and urgent.
“This…”
The Archmage’s furrowed brow confirmed it. The white lion’s long mane spilled softly downward.
“Is something wrong?”
“It seems the dragon is inside the Dragon’s Gate after all.”
I had already heard the young mage’s whispered report, so the Archmage’s expression was almost unnecessary.
“What?”
“Considering that the dragon was first sighted there, I asked them to prioritize searching the area… and it appears that was correct. They couldn’t enter the Gate itself, but corruption is definitely flowing out from within.”
“Wait a second—didn’t they say no sane sailor ever goes near that place?”
“…You’re right.”
“Then…?”
“We’ll have to find a captain who can.”
Separately, I noted that one of my hunches had hit the mark.
“A captain who can enter the Dragon’s Gate and come back out.”
The name “Dragon’s Gate” was already waving a big neon “special location” flag, so set that aside. Looking at everything, it was obvious we needed that descendant-of-the-sea-goddess or whoever she was.
“Fighting the Sea Dragon is already practically suicide. Is it really right to go somewhere even lifelong sailors won’t approach…?”
“Nothing is certain yet, so don’t borrow worry ahead of time.”
“You just said the odds are high.”
“They are.”
“Ha. Don’t tell me you’re scared?”
“Of course I’m scared. I don’t have special powers like the rest of you.”
“…What a coward.”
Of course the game wouldn’t hand out a throwaway character. I was busy congratulating myself on another successful guess when Dev clutched his head, face pale.
From where I stood he could just stay on land and be fine, yet he kept volunteering for suffering.
“You may remain ashore. I don’t mean that as an insult, but your specialty is dealing with people, not facing something like a Sea Dragon.”
“…That’s true, but.”
“However, there is something I would like to entrust to you.”
“……?”
“In finding or tracking people you are a step above me. I will make inquiries as well, but if you help me we can locate the person far more easily.”
The corner of Dev’s mouth twisted slightly at the Archmage’s words.
“Finding people is my specialty, sure. But is that enough?”
“Not ‘enough’—it is the only way. Without a captain we cannot even begin.”
“…Understood. It’s work I should be doing anyway.”
“Compensation will be whatever you name. Tell them we have a ship fitted with protective devices that can handle minor reefs.”
“That makes it easier. Don’t worry.”
With that Dev rose. The hem of his green hood fluttered once.
“Anything else I need to know?”
“Ah. Add that they may end up facing the Sea Dragon as well.”
“That’s obvious. Nothing besides that?”
“For now, no.”
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
Night was almost here and he was heading out already.
Not that I had room to talk. How many times had we moved day and night without distinction? Night was probably more convenient for him anyway.
Dev vanished from the guild hall moments later.
“What do we do?”
“Inquisitor… for the moment you are on standby. The temple is already cooperating fully. So you may help him search for the captain, or continue other work as you have been.”
“I see…”
The Inquisitor looked rather regretful that there was nothing for her to do in the preparations. I, on the other hand, was glad.
Honestly, neither the Inquisitor nor my own concept was suited to politics, negotiation, or people-hunting. Even without the concept I had no confidence in that kind of work.
“Is that all you had to say?”
“Ah. For you there is one more thing.”
Oh? There is?
“Separate from this matter: if the Magic Tower contacts you, do not listen to a word they say and accept nothing. If they try force, you may attack them. I say this with every future journey in mind. Never set foot in the Magic Tower until I myself invite you.”
…I had no idea why violence was even being mentioned, but noted. Seriously though—why? Had I somehow made enemies of the Magic Tower?
“Nothing else.”
Why the Archmage would speak that way about his own organization I didn’t know, and he clearly had no intention of explaining further.
So what choice was there? Just file it away and move on.
Besides, the remaining time looked like free time. Dev would bring the captain, the ship was already prepared, and the lord, Magic Tower, and temple were at least nominally joining in.
Then I might as well do some free hunting. Once I collected the bounty still waiting after dinner, I had nothing else scheduled.
I lowered the leg I had propped on the table and stood.
Clack.
The two-hander I had leaned against the table—since I couldn’t sit with it on my back—settled into my grip.
“Where are you going?”
Ah. Perfect chance to ditch the Inquisitor for a while.
With Dev and the Archmage both off on their own business, this was the ideal moment to be alone. Solo activity was allowed, and now that it was confirmed there was no reason not to shake her.
“I also—”
“Figure out your own duties with your own head. Don’t lean on others.”
“……!”
Was that too harsh? But a concept needed a proper edge.
Sometimes even I had trouble interpreting my own concept. In immersion-friendly moments the lines wrote themselves, but daily life could be read a thousand different ways.
Anyway, no mace came flying at my skull and the Inquisitor didn’t follow, so good enough. I left the guild hall with light steps.
This was nearly the first time since entering the game that I had safe, solitary time. I intended to use it well.
“Captain, are you sure about this?”
“What’s not to be sure about?”
The man adjusted the tiller as he spoke. The moon was hidden behind clouds and the sea was far from gentle, yet his sky-reaching seamanship slipped the ship deftly into the cliff-walled bay.
Gamak Bay. A place every local knew existed yet rarely used.
“You don’t trust me?”
“I always trust the captain’s sailing. I’m asking about something else.”
“Brat. Drop the damn anchor.”
He laughed and briefly removed the tricorn and bandanna from his head. Hair matted from long days at sea tasted open air for a moment.
In that span the ship completed a perfect anchorage along the shore.
“Good. Everyone did well. Hang on just a little longer. Our brothers are waiting, aren’t they?”
Darkness loved to carry words, so he kept his voice low as he offered encouragement. No sound answered, yet the crew’s reply was plain.
“As planned, you lot stay with the ship. Boatswain, with me.”
“Aye.”
He lowered a small boat and moved secretly onto land. Perhaps because the endeavor that had cost so much blood and loss was finally nearing its end. Or because until a few days ago they had spent nights fleeing Bipurit’s pursuit.
His hands slipped on the oars from sweat more than once.
“I just hope that mercenary is still in the city…”
“Hm? Ah, you mean that one from back then?”
“Yeah…”
The man recalled the warship that had intervened in the clash with Bipurit a few days earlier. More precisely, the warrior who had leapt from that warship onto a pirate vessel and run wild through the fray.
“One man won’t turn a whole battle.”
“I know that. But he’d still be a big help—no question. One of him is better than a bunch of chaff. And more than anything, he looks like someone we could hire with coin.”
They had only glimpsed him while fleeing, so nothing was certain. Yet he had been aboard a navy ship without wearing a uniform, so he had to be an adventurer or mercenary.
The mark on the warship belonged to Gryu Telz; if they had returned to port he would be there. That is, if he hadn’t already left again after docking.
“We’ve got the money. Just need to meet him… Wonder if the Sea Dragon will grant us its protection.”
“He’ll be there for sure.”
“Yeah. We can only pray…”
The man rose as he felt the boat touch the sand.
“Otherwise I won’t be able to face the brothers.”
It was time to head for Gryu Telz.
“…? First mate!”
Meanwhile, on the deck of the ship the man had left.
A crewman in the crow’s nest called to the one now in command in the captain’s place.
“What?”
“Something on the surface… like a shark…?”
“What?”
“No—maybe a sea crocodile…? Wait, it’s coming toward the ship!”
The first mate felt an unfounded, heavy dread at the report. It wasn’t the name “sea crocodile” that frightened him. Decades of seafaring, of fighting simply to stay alive, simply rang an alarm in the form of instinct.
“…Harpoons out, everyone!”
Boom!
Unknown beasts began hammering the lower hull.