Raise the Anchor! (2)
“Anchor..., lower it for now.”
“Lowering the anchor!”
Clang!
The anchor, which had risen with such gusto, plunged back into the sea with its hefty weight.
“What now, Captain?”
“Urk! First, we need to find that bastard Seolhwa..., hey! Shut up those damn land beasts' barking!”
For beasts that had only ever lived on solid ground, the rocking deck of a ship was a space they could never adapt to, no matter how hard they tried. One couldn't hold back its anxiety and let out a howl, and in an instant, it spread to the surroundings.
“Got it, Captain! If the beasts won't listen, there's only one answer.”
As a subordinate licked his lips and pulled out a whip from who-knows-where, Francis shouted.
“Hey! Are you insane? Those are merchandise, merchandise! Don't even piss near them until we hand them off.”
“Then what do we do, Captain? Beg them not to cry?”
Stranded with nowhere to go, the cursed land beasts that wouldn't stop howling. The sea stretched out before them, yet they were chained to the land. It was a situation where the rum tasted delicious.
In such a mess, there was only one solution.
“Argh! I don't know. Just bring another barrel of rum for now...”
As if struck by lightning, Francis's thoughts froze.
Wait..., rum?
“Captain? Gonna crack open some rum and take a nice nap?”
“What kind of question is that? Has the captain ever taken the rum from his lips?”
“True that. Hey, lads, bring more rum before the captain's hand gets itchy!”
Thud!
Like a bear that had made up its mind, Francis slammed his hand on the deck.
“Look at him already. Hand's getting itchy.”
“...Bring it.”
“Pardon?”
“Crack open every barrel of rum we have and pour it into the horse troughs!”
The flag of Sukan, emblazoned with the Winged Hussars, fluttered boldly on every carriage, unafraid of the blowing wind.
“Are the other tribal chiefs still supporting Lord Muyul Ihyeon, Uncle?”
“Even if they are, it changes nothing. As long as the Winged Hussars Knight Commander supports the eldest son, Lord Muyul Ilsan.”
“And my eldest brother is still...”
“Now he's even calling in the salon girls to the castle. Even the servants and maids can barely pretend not to notice.”
Knock knock!
As he hesitated on how to respond, the coachman tapped on the passenger window.
“We've arrived at Moribwe Castle.”
“Good work. Tell them Lord Muyul Samho will disembark first, so prepare his wheelchair.”
“Yes, sir.”
A wheeled chair made of fine wood waited at the carriage steps. After confirming Muyul Samho, leaning on his cane, had sat down upon descending, his uncle followed.
“Welcome to Moribwe Castle, Lord Muyul Samho, Viscount Yayuldaesok.”
“Thank you for the warm welcome, Lady Moribwe. I should stand to greet you properly, but without my cane, I can't even stand straight, so please forgive my rudeness.”
“The flesh is a prison that binds us all. I understand, Lord Muyul Samho.”
Sukan and Moribwe. Cavalry and puppetry. Despite their domains specializing in entirely different fields, they greeted each other warmly, as if old acquaintances.
Standing awkwardly between them, Viscount Yayuldaesok impatiently cut in.
“It's an honor to meet the great mage, Lady Moribwe.”
“Welcome, Viscount Yayuldaesok. I don't recall inviting you..., but whatever, I'm in a good mood, so let's ignore such trivial issues.”
“Ahaha..., my apologies. As Lord Muyul Samho's guardian, I couldn't let him travel alone.”
“How thoughtful of you. If you'd thought half as much about me, you might have at least sent word that you were coming along. But I wouldn't know.”
Grrrr....
The fangs of the shadow hunting dog lying at Lady Moribwe's feet gleamed sharply.
“N-next time! I won't repeat such a mistake.”
“Lady Moribwe, I asked Uncle to accompany me. It was my fault for not informing you in advance, so allow me to apologize as well.”
Poof! Coo!
The growling hunting dog vanished without a trace, replaced by shadow pigeons taking flight.
“How can I scold you when Lord Muyul Samho puts it that way? Come on, enough standing around—let's head into the castle.”
“Y-yes!”
With that, Lady Moribwe turned sharply and headed for the castle. Lord Muyul Samho followed, a half-step behind, with Viscount Yayuldaesok grimacing like he'd eaten shit.
Insolent witch..., I need her support in the succession race, so I'll endure this once.
Close enough to sense each other's presence, but far enough that words wouldn't carry. One maid approached Lady Moribwe and whispered in her ear.
After the maid delivered her report and vanished, Lady Moribwe suddenly turned back toward Muyul Samho, as if struck by a thought. Viscount Yayuldaesok, who had been glaring at her back, flinched and clamped his mouth shut.
“Lord Muyul Samho.”
“Yes? What is it, Lady?”
“Didn't the Emperor entrust something to Sukan too? Like how he gave Moribwe the swords and spears.”
“Indeed. The Emperor entrusted Sukan with the magic tools of the war mages. No idea why he'd give something like that to Sukan, though.”
“Wouldn't you hand those over to me?”
“Pardon?”
If expressions of bewilderment were ranked, Muyul Samho's face would top the charts right now. Undeterred, Lady Moribwe's eyes sparkled like a mother picking out a gift for her son.
Whether feeding rum to the land beasts had worked, the animals on deck were all blissfully content—perhaps tipsy—in a hazy silence.
“Captain! Crystal communication from Fraia territory!”
“What, what'd you say! Lady Moribwe contacting me first!?”
“Whoa! Captain, is your crush finally bearing fruit?”
“Take me to the wedding! I hear Moribwe wine is to die for.”
“Could you set up a meet with Moribwe's maids too?”
Sounds of slurping kimchi soup straight from the barrel echoed everywhere.
“You worthless scum! Shut your traps, or I'll feed you all to the sea god!”
Leaving a dying gasp of joy behind, Francis Fraia stormed toward the port office. He flung the door open so wide it might shatter.
“Crystal comm! Where! Hurry!”
“H-here it is! Duke Fraia!”
The port office staff shrank back, sensing mortal peril from the man reeking of booze in broad daylight.
“Ooh, right! But uh, how do you use this thing?”
Humm! Humm!
Though urgent, Francis hesitated to touch the glowing crystal orb, fearing it might break. It pulsed every two seconds.
“Just lightly place your hand on the crystal orb.”
As Francis did, hazy smoke billowed up, soon forming a human shape.
“Ooh..., even as smoke, the Lady is beau—.”
The cloud-like smoke coalesced into a perfect figure: Seolhwa's.
“You cheeky land pup!”
Thanks to the vivid transmission, the faint image of Seolhwa in the crystal writhed.
[You still look healthy, Duke Fraia.]
“And you still look slippery as ever! But why are you using Lady Moribwe's crystal comm!?”
[There's a long story behind it.]
“Like you don't have time to spare! Out with it!”
[Ahaha..., remember those items I requested to rent from the elector counts at the Round Table Meeting? I'm here to pick them up.]
Forgetting his hand was on the crystal, Francis clenched his fist before hurriedly relaxing it.
Raising the anchor to set sail, only to lower it again—a rookie mistake. The sea within beard's reach if he fell, yet unable to depart. Remembering the cause was right before him, Francis bellowed.
“You! That's right. If you want the land beasts, you should've set a meeting spot! Do I have time to hunt you down and ask? I'm a duke, duke!”
[Truth be told, you accepted so readily I forgot.]
“Kuhaha! A man has to be bold, aye. Fine, can't be helped. So where should I send these stinking beasts?”
[Before that, could you give me a ride?]
“You think I know where you are to come pick you up? And am I some grunt who runs when you snap your fingers?”
[I'm in Moribwe right now.]
“Stay put, don't bolt anywhere! I'll drop by Moribwe..., no, Lady Moribwe.”
As the port staff barely stifled their laughter, Seolhwa added.
[Oh, and by the way, do you happen to know of a port city called Petergorsk?]
“Petergorsk? Peter... Peter..., ah! You mean that snowy dump?”
Petergorsk was one of the few ice-free ports located within the Manrmursk territory. It was also the specific village where Seolhwa had previously requested Lord Manrmursk Byeon Gyeongbaek to dispatch the mercenaries immediately upon their arrival.
[Exactly. If possible between Fraia and Manrmursk, I hear the sea route is faster than land.]
“Aye! Better the sea's salty romance than choking on land dust. You know your stuff, kid. But why hang with a guy like Manrmursk's lord...?”
Trailing off, Fraia fell silent.
[Duke Fraia?]
“Look, it's not that I actually like that Manrmursk bastard or anything, but isn't Petergorsk technically part of his territory?”
[It is.]
“Then sailing without port clearance is tricky.”
[Don't worry about that. I'll talk to Lord Manrmursk Byeon Gyeongbaek.]
“Really? Then wait right there. I'll get there before the sweat under my arms even has a chance to dry—whether it’s Petergorsk or whatever else you call it, I will arrive!”
As if he'd heard all he needed, Francis bolted from the office before Seolhwa could reply. Sprinting back to the ship like a bear raiding a granary, he roared.
“Raise the anchor, you maggoty lot! This time, we're sailing for real!”