Navy Marigold (1)

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Beautiful scenery, lively islands and coastal cities, fresh seafood year-round, a geopolitical position far removed from the continental wars despite the occasional pirate nuisance—there were many reasons why Lancel always chose the archipelago for his vacations, even if it meant a long journey.

But now that he thought about it, maybe it was because this was the only place untouched by his sister's hands.

Yeah. A map untouched by the game director.

How could such a thing exist? you ask?

'These are all free assets, so should I just grab them?'

'It's gotta be better than something my sister made, right?'

'They all look good—can I just throw them all in? More is better!'

'...Isn't that going too far?'

'Don't you know the saying "the more, the better"?'

'...?'

It was a map crammed with every available ocean background asset imaginable.

'You called it a peaceful island, but what's with all those ships?'

'There can be peaceful islands with a ton of ships, can't there?'

'Look, someone's riding a whale over there.'

'Cool! Fantasy!'

'That's clearly a paraglider, no matter how you look at it.'

'Can't have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that?'

'This city's floating on the ocean, not land.'

'Whoa! Fantasy!'

Looking back, that ridiculous mishmash of free assets had created this bizarre environment.

Seventeen islands and cities scattered across the sea, always bustling with countless merchant and fishing vessels passing through.

In the game, it was mainly used for 'summer vacations.'

"Have we met somewhere before, by any chance?"

"Nah. First time."

"Hmm."

And for some reason, Marygold was there.

Gazing at Lancel with navy insignia on her uniform.

"I heard a ship ran aground nearby, but you're the only survivor they rescued. You were this close to dying. Lucky you met me."

"Luck ran out when the ship wrecked, though..."

"No, no—don't be so pessimistic. Surviving is always a win. Think positive, always. Advice from a four-year navy veteran."

"Four years?"

Real talk?

"You look too young for that kind of experience."

"Hehe."

Marygold, now just fifteen, was already a four-year navy vet? That meant she'd joined at eleven.

Considering she'd been a countess's daughter just a year ago, this was an insanely fast career pivot.

Shedding her lady's sensibilities in a single year to choose such grueling work.

"Joined early, huh? You still look like a kid."

"...Truth is, I showed up on the island with nothing and realized I had no idea what to do. But I heard the navy has no age limit, so I jumped in."

"Makes sense."

A new recruit's duties were scrubbing decks, scraping barnacles, raising whales—simple but labor-intensive stuff. The navy took anyone who wouldn't get in the way. They were desperate enough to borrow a cat's paw if it helped.

"I'll drop you off at our headquarters island first. You can talk to the guard squad leader there."

Judging by her insignia, Marygold was a private first class—just escaping grunt work for real duties. She had that fresh-promoted glow of confidence.

"...But I'm late reporting back, so we gotta hurry. Hold on tight. If I get chewed out this time, it's deck duty for sure..."

"You get in trouble a lot?"

"N-No way!"

She averted her eyes, sweating bullets.

"Don't fall off. Ruby's really fast."

"Ruby?"

"Yeah."

Marygold raised the reins.

"Ruby!"

A whale poked its head above water. It was harnessed to their tiny patrol boat.

Odd-looking, but basically a carriage. Whales pulled duty here like horses on land.

"Gotta go fast—can you hurry?"

-Squeee!

Ruby blasted a high-pitched call from its blowhole, spraying water.

Shwoooosh!

It shot forward like a torpedo, slicing the calm sea.

"Let's go!"

Only then did the scenery hit Lancel: vast ocean, blue sky, massive clouds to the horizon... and Marygold. Marygold?

Why the hell is Marygold really here?

Why come to the archipelago? The question faded as the first island came into view.

1.

"Why are you so late!"

"S-Sorry! I was rescuing a castaway..."

"Oh? Even after the report about you ditching patrol for a nap?"

"Eek! Sorry, Guard Squad Leader! I didn't think you'd find out!"

"Didn't think?"

"Ah, th-that slipped...!"

"Deck duty for a week. Dismissed!"

"D-Dismissed...!"

Marygold slumped, face fallen.

"Slacking off now that you got a junior? Tsk tsk."

The guard squad leader clicked his tongue, then approached Lancel, handing back his Dante family crest.

"Sorry for doubting your identity, Sir Lancel. A landlubber soaked head to toe claiming nobility was hard to buy—please understand."

"No worries. I wouldn't believe me either looking like this."

"Grateful you get it. But what brings a mainland noble all the way out here?"

"Does travel need a reason?"

"Travel... do you have an escort...?"

Worried eyes. He really did look like a beggar—ragged clothes flapping.

"Money's plenty... huh?"

Lancel finally noticed his empty pockets.

Shit.

Gone. He'd packed 19 gold coins this time—plenty. All vanished in the wreck. No inn money, not even fare back to the mainland.

Stranded penniless.

No choice.

He eyed the squad leader.

"I'd like to see Navy Guard Commander Coral Baron. Could you pass the word?"

"...One moment. Mary, assist Sir Lancel properly. He's important—don't mess up."

"Y-Yes sir!"

"Voice."

"Yessir!"

Full military snap from Marygold.

"Sorry I didn't recognize you, milord..."

Deflated, she offered a canteen.

"At least have a sip..."

"Water?"

"Fruit drink... Ah! K-Keep it secret! Anything but water gets me in trouble."

"..."

No wonder it smelled sweet.

Lancel gulped it down in one go. Parched and starving from drifting.

Gulp gulp.

"Ah, a-ah, l-leave just a sip... waaah!"

Gulp.

"Hiiik!"

Marygold despaired as it all went down Lancel's throat.

"Hit the spot."

"...G-Glad you enjoyed... it."

Her smile twitched. Tears welled up.

Navy covered food and board but paid peanuts. That fruit drink was probably her homemade stash from local fruits, treasured.

Come to think of it, she's my lifesaver this time. She pulled me from drifting.

Hmm.

"Wah..."

Marygold's sad eyes on the empty canteen. Maybe too harsh? He'd repay later.

"Sir Lancel, the commander's summoning you."

...

"First time meeting."

"Pleasure. Call me Coral Baron."

A stocky, middle-aged man in a navy cap gripped his hand. Muscular, constantly twirling his pointed mustache.

Navy Guard Commander Coral Baron.

Coming to this guy again. Vacation's screwed from the start.

Vacations often hit snags: gambling away fortune, inn theft, or just overspending till broke.

He always sought Coral Baron then. Not as easy as with Baron Ivil Shen, though.

"Heard you're broke. A noble without coin? Undignified! Can't have that."

"..."

"I'll cover your needs here: big room, food, clothes, servants. But..."

Coral pulled something out.

"Here, take this."

A gold coin—and a familiar item attached.

Third time Lancel got this one.

Damn, again!

A gold navy seal. Specifically, 'Senior Officer Seal'—third of five ranks.

Knights joining navy started here.

In other words.

"Lately, the archipelago's swarming with merchants, mercenaries, pirates nonstop. Work round the clock, still no end."

"Ah, yes."

"But knights stick to land, ignore navy—how's it supposed to improve?!"

"...I get the hardship, truly, but why tell me?"

"Think! Empire's seas ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lawless—guarding land alone won't save it!"

Land mattered, sure. Early wars were land-based. Full sea battles? Rare, even after dozens of loops.

But Coral didn't know, pounding his chest in lament.

"This can't stand! You're a Dante, true knight with chivalry in your heart—can you ignore this?!"

Lancel wiped flying spit with a handkerchief.

"...Personally tragic, yes. But I'm better suited to land..."

"Thanks."

"Pardon?"

"For understanding. Here!"

Nearly forcing the coin and seal into Lancel's hand. Firm handshake to prevent refusal. Dead set on it.

No letting a knight who walked in walk out.

"Sir Lancel. Welcome to the navy!"

The bronzed, muscle-bound commander's intensity would cow most.

"...Baron Coral, I'm just here for travel..."

"Welcome aboard!"

"...Travel..."

"Welcome!"

That day, Lancel became a temporary officer.

Normally, he'd refuse or bolt. Past selves had faked acceptance then ditched.

Navy officer? Not for vacation Lancel.

But this time...

"Mary! Where've you been!"

"Here, Petty Officer! Picking shells!"

"Think honesty excuses slacking? Run! No cleaning?!"

"C-Coming!"

...Marygold in the navy was why.

Yeah. Slacker my way through, eat up 10 years free. Plus she's here.

Lancel thought lightly.