Is This Portugal?
So this is Portugal?
“Unbelievable….”
“What kind of ship does this?!”
The prisoners living in the cells installed on the deck were in for one shock after another.
First there was the sight of the ship belching black smoke as it moved, and then there was the moment it chased down fleeing sailing vessels and sank them with cannon fire.
“What on earth is this thing?”
“No idea. Never seen or heard of anything like it….”
And as more and more pirate ships surrendered, the cells grew more and more crowded.
“Huh? You too?”
“I thought you were dead, and here you are?”
Old comrades found themselves reunited.
“So where are they selling us off to?”
“I heard they're taking us back to their homeland?”
“They're not going to kill us?”
Granted, once they got back to the mother country, execution was practically guaranteed — but if they played their cards right with whatever treasure they had stashed away, a way out just might open up. Some of the pirates felt relief, but every single one of them was puzzled by one thing.
The low, rumbling vibration that echoed through the ship, and the fact that it cleaved through the waves without a single sail.
“Hello? Lots of prisoners today, too?”
And then there was the angel — a single angel completely out of place on this ship crewed exclusively by swarthy, grimy men.
“Whoa….”
“What on earth is this place?”
Having spent a month clearing the surrounding waters, the ship resupplied once more at Wikiwa and set out across the Atlantic.
Daehan had long since mapped nearly every continent — excluding only the treacherous Arctic route — and prepared navigational charts to go with them.
The Whaleshark 1 was bound for Lisbon, Portugal.
Our voyage was remarkably smooth.
The greatest worry on any long-distance crossing is water, but by resourcefully recycling the waste heat from the boilers to produce fresh water, then purifying it with Holy Water, we always had clean water on hand.
As for food, we did have to live off preserved rations for long stretches — but compared to the days of sailing ships, this was a colossal improvement.
And along the way, we ran into some truly unhinged characters.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
“What the—?”
“Are they insane?”
A sailing ship came approaching, so I figured they wanted something and slowed down to wait for them.
But once they got close, they opened fire with their cannons?
“Can you believe these sons of bitches!”
“All guns, fire!”
KABOOM! KABOOM!
They'd fired point-blank, and when not a single scratch appeared on our hull, they stood there dumbfounded — at which point the gunnery officer showered them with an enraged baptism of shells.
“What in the world were those people doing?”
“They're probably merchant ships or warships from the area, sir.”
I was so dumbfounded I asked a prisoner about it.
And the answer was a masterpiece. Apparently, out at sea, the moment you spotted a ship that looked easy pickings, you just turned pirate. Merchant or naval, it made no difference.
“Then why did they attack us? Our ship is huge!”
“It has no sails, sir. It must have looked like a wreck.”
“Ah….”
I suppose that's that. Couldn't exactly interrogate anyone for details — everyone who could have answered was bobbing around out in that sea.
Still, if characters like this were showing up, it meant land couldn't be far off, right?
No ship out there was faster than ours, so there was no one to warn anyone that a strange vessel was bearing down on them — meaning we could appear out of nowhere, no notice whatsoever.
And on the afternoon of the seventeenth day since departing the Eastern Continent, we spotted Lisbon.
“Hmmm-hmmmm!”
“What is it? All I smell is the sea…?”
“Money. I smell money.”
“Huh?”
Look at all those sails out there — every last one of them was money.
So this was what the dawn of the Age of Exploration looked like, huh?
Though we did sit awfully low in the water… could we even make it into the harbor? At this depth, we should be fine, right?
“Captain! We've got a problem!”
“Yes! What is it!”
I was up on deck when the thought of our draft struck me, and I scrambled up to the bridge — maybe I came sprinting up too out of breath, because the captain looked absolutely alarmed.
“Can our ship actually get into the harbor?”
“Hmm…. We do have sounding data, but….”
“Isn't it old?”
“We'll have to approach carefully, taking soundings as we go.”
Oh, you can do that? What a relief.
But before we even got close, guests came pouring out en masse. A suspicious ship approaching had apparently prompted an official welcoming party.
One of them hoisted a white flag, drew alongside our ship, and pulled up beside us.
“From where does this ship hail?”
“From Daehan.”
“Where is that?”
Oh. Right. Some of them had never heard of Daehan.
A small commotion broke out on their side. Someone came rushing over and whispered something urgently.
“My apologies. I failed to recognize you at once. What brings you here?”
“Portuguese nationals have been plundering and committing crimes in our waters, so we have captured them. Send us someone authorized to discuss the matter.”
There it is — send out the responsible official, and make it snappy!
“If they are pirates, hand them over to us and be on your way. We shall deal with them according to law.”
If that was how it worked, why would I have hauled them all the way here instead of just burying them in our mines?
“That is not what this is about.”
“Then what?”
“We have come to demand accountability and compensation for damages. Call out someone empowered to discuss it.”
“Tch…. Very well. Wait a moment, if you please.”
Well, he did go back, at least.
So we waited, giving the ship a thorough scrub-down in the meantime.
“AAARGH! The paint's all chipped off!”
“Someone fetch the paint, quick!”
Granted, there were a few souls wailing over the shell fragments the pirates had chipped off the hull.
These people are unbearably slow. A whole week later, the answer finally came.
Their fashion never changes, does it? They're still prancing around in those tunic things?
“Ahem. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Antonius, personal secretary to the King.”
Something like a chief of staff, then? Talk to him, and it goes straight to the King's ear — that's the idea, right?
“Nice to meet you. I'm Ha-eun.”
“Hehe. Nonetheless, one should observe proper courtesy.”
Courtesy my foot. In both age and rank, I'm the one above you, pal.
“Does your King use honorifics with you?”
“Pardon? Do you mean the King of Daehan?”
“Yep.”
Hmm? Roughly comparable? Probably? Hard to say, since there's no exact title for it.
“So one of high station has come in person. It is an honor to meet you.”
Well, look at that — one mention of high rank and he's suddenly all deference.
“Mm. Pleased to meet you too. Though the purpose of my visit may not be so pleasant — will that be all right?”
“Of course. I shall listen attentively to whatever you have to say.”
Hmm. Where to begin.
“Merchants from your country have been turning pirate and plundering our waters.”
“Oh dear. Our sincerest apologies.”
He says he's sorry, but his face says otherwise? More like, you came all this way over such a triviality?
“Well, it kept getting worse, so we killed them all and captured a few. We're here to hand over the pirates and collect damages.”
In other words: pay up a reasonable sum, and there'll be no bloodshed.
“Hm? Why should we answer for what pirates did?”
“Because they're your people.”
“Hehe…. That is, ah, rather difficult.”
Hmm. Shall I make something really difficult for you, then?
“Fine. I'll give you a deadline. One week. If you don't bring an answer by then, not a single ship will be able to enter Lisbon again.”
“Hehe…. I don't see any other fleets nearby, though. Is that truly possible?”
Oh? So he's been surveying the surroundings all week, has he?
Well, what to do? I suppose this ship right in front of you will simply park itself at the mouth of the river and blast every passing vessel to splinters?
“Yes. It's possible, so go back and deliver it properly. After the week is up, the compensation you owe will grow by an astronomical amount.”
“Hehehe…. I shall relay your message.”
Hmm? Was that a smirk? One corner of his mouth curling up like that — genuinely unpleasant.
I was starting to want to say something nasty.
“Right. Get home safe.”
“Thank you. I do hope we meet again under better circumstances.”
The Whaleshark, appearing out of the sea with no sails to drive it, sent a shockwave through Portugal.
Up close, it was no shipwreck at all.
What was more, while the deck plating was made of wood, it was so dark that some wondered aloud whether it was truly wood at all — might it not, in fact, be iron?
That was why the royal house had hastily dispatched a secretary.
“I have returned, Your Majesty.”
Upon meeting Haneul, Antonius went straight into the royal palace of Lisbon and presented himself before Manuel I.
“Well? What did they say?”
“They demand compensation for losses suffered at the hands of pirates.”
“Hm?”
Pirates in name only, really. Weren't they, in truth, explorers and merchants?
“And why would we be the ones paying compensation for that?”
“It appears the explorers trespassed upon their territory.”
“Hmm….”
Manuel I turned the matter over in his mind. He had heard the rumors — of a land that produced every manner of rare and precious treasure.
Wasn't that exactly why Portugal had been planning to round Africa's southern coast and head east to reach Daehan?
“But you say they came from the west?”
“Yes.”
“What? So the man's story was true after all?”
Columbus's tale had spread to some degree throughout Europe.
He claimed he had sailed west, reached Daehan, and returned — but having brought back not a single item, most people took the story with a grain of salt.
There was undoubtedly land out there, but wasn't it inhabited only by natives little better than primitives?
“And who exactly came?”
“They said it was their King.”
“Hm? The king of a vassal state?”
The rumors said Daehan's territory was vast, so some did consider it an empire.
But an Emperor would never step outside in person, so it was only natural to assume the visitor was the king of some minor vassal state.
“Even so, a king of an empire must hold considerable rank.”
“Hmm….”
“However….”
Antonius hesitated, torn over whether to say what came next. The King was certain to be furious. Still, better to speak now than have problems arise later, he decided.
“Um….”
“Out with it!”
“They said that if we do not give an answer within one week, not a single ship will be able to call at Lisbon….”
“???”
Not anger — pure bafflement was what seized Manuel I.
Portugal, which had begun expanding its overseas territory across the seas, was a nation that could truly be called an empire, and at its heart stood an overwhelming naval force.
“The report said they have no army?”
“They are large, yes — but it is a single ship.”
“That sail-less vessel that endlessly belches black smoke, you mean?”
“Yes.”
By their standards, the ship was utterly beyond comprehension. No sails? And at that size, oars couldn't move it either, could they?
“One ship intends to blockade our entire fleet?”
“Presumably so. If they had brought a fleet, it would have anchored somewhere, and there is no trace of one anywhere in the vicinity.”
“Have they gone mad?”
By the common sense of the age, that was the limit of what anyone could imagine.
And what Haneul was so confident about was this: the medieval naval gunfire she had taken while fighting off pirates simply couldn't punch through her steel plating.
Granted, it might get a bit dented, and the paint might peel.
“Um….”
Did he have to say this too, or not? But the face kept floating up in his mind, and in the end he had to open his mouth.
“Now what?”
“Mad they may be, but magnificently so.”
“What?”
Manuel I had no idea what that was supposed to mean.
“That King they spoke of — a woman, no, a girl — she is truly beautiful.”
“What?”
They were discussing a matter of grave national consequence, and he was spouting nonsense?
“No, it goes beyond that. Ah… this is something you must see to believe…. The faint, wondrous fragrance about her, the flawless skin — and her face, her figure, there is not a single flaw to find….”
“Ahem.”
The secretary he'd always taken for a stone-cold man of marble was going on like this, and the King found himself growing genuinely curious.
“You said they demanded compensation. How much did they ask for?”
“Ah! I never heard a figure….”
“Dear me….”
“Shall we summon them and ask?”
“Ah! Now that's not a bad idea at all.”
Told the girl was beautiful, the King — dark schemes already brewing — resolved to invite her over, and the sharp-eyed secretary promptly produced exactly the answer his sovereign wanted to hear.
The King naturally wrote out an invitation, pressed his wax seal onto the letter, and handed it to his secretary.
“Make haste and return.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
It was a letter brimming with dark ambition — the thought that perhaps, through marriage, Portugal might acquire Daehan's territory.
In those days, such inheritance of territory through matrimony was entirely possible in Europe. That was precisely why England and France had fought each other so bloodily for so long.
And so the letter crossed the sea once more and was delivered to Haneul.
Why is the preamble so long? This is just a fancy way of saying "let's meet and negotiate," isn't it?
I opened the letter the King of Portugal had supposedly sent, and it was so long I wondered how much paper he'd wasted on it?
I wondered if I'd misread something, so I showed it to Moses too.
“Yes. What is with all these pointless flowery phrases? And it goes on about the young lady's beauty and grace — when has he even seen you?”
“Beats me.”
Hah. This reeks, doesn't it? Going alone would be a bit much.
I'll bring about twenty people with me.