Chapter 25
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 25
"Wait, could it be...?"
Freezing wine was a feat so trivial it was embarrassing to even call it a technique for a mage of his caliber, but it was more than enough to leave the sailors aghast.
Usually, only someone of a captain’s rank would have the standing to directly address high-born individuals like mages. Though Turan hadn't specified whether he was a knight or a noble, to mere sailors, either was a superior as distant as the heavens.
"To think we brought such an esteemed person to such a humble place..."
"You can speak freely. I am the one asking to be hired, after all."
"No, that’s... that's a bit much, sir."
Turan’s polite tone seemed to make the sailors even more uncomfortable.
It is human nature to look down on the weak when they bow, yet to feel flustered and at fault when the powerful show humility. It was one of the many things Turan had learned while traveling among the people of the lower world.
"So, is it possible?"
"Pardon?"
"Taking me on as a passenger. Naturally, if pirates or merfolk attack, I will lend my strength to repel them."
"That’s a decision beyond my authority, sir."
"Then I should meet the captain."
"I’ll go fetch him right away!"
At Turan’s request, the sailor who had mentioned the ship heading for the Enril Desert scrambled to his feet. The man sitting across from him looked on with a pathetic expression, as if pleading not to be left alone with the mysterious guest, but the first sailor vanished in a flash.
"He’s not running away, is he?"
"O-of course not, haha..."
For the next ten minutes, the two sat in silence. Fortunately for the sailor, the awkwardness was broken when his companion returned with the captain in tow.
"I’ll be going now."
"Let’s grab another drink later."
As the two sailors exchanged hurried farewells, the man summoned by the first sailor sat across from Turan and gave a polite nod. He was in his forties, wearing a rugged eyepatch over his left eye. His sun-darkened skin and deep-set wrinkles spoke of long years of experience on the high seas.
"I am Pires, Captain of the Blue Marlin."
"I am Turan."
Perhaps his rank had brought him into contact with mages before, for Pires did not grovel like the sailor. Instead, he regarded Turan with an observant, steady gaze. After a brief, silent exchange of looks, Pires was the first to speak.
"I heard you wish to board my ship."
"Yes."
"First, I’d prefer to speak in a quieter place. Waiter! Is there a private room available?"
"Yes, Captain."
Pires seemed familiar with the tavern, and at his request, they moved to a small back room. Once seated, the first topic he broached was Turan’s identity.
"First... are you a noble, or a knight?"
"I am a knight."
Turan intentionally lowered his status, fearing the captain might become overly intimidated. While a knight who started a mutiny might be handled by dozens of sailors armed with spears and swords, for a noble mage, such a feat would be nothing more than post-meal exercise.
As expected, the captain looked visibly more relaxed upon hearing Turan was a knight.
"Seeing as you’ve chosen such an unofficial route, I assume you aren't affiliated with the Carmine family. Might I ask your business in Enril...?"
"It is a personal matter."
"I suppose it would be."
When Turan made it clear he didn't wish to answer, the captain nodded readily. It seemed he had only been testing the waters. Captain Pires suddenly lowered his voice.
"It’s true we need a knight, as you said. But to be honest, it will be difficult to hire you without knowing if your combat abilities are sufficient."
Unlike nobles, knights didn't typically have massive differences in their mana capacity, but that didn't mean their combat prowess was equal. To compensate for their limited mana, they required a diverse set of skills—from physical combat and weapon mastery to magical proficiency and battle experience.
And in Pires’s eyes, Turan didn't look particularly reliable. His youthful face, barely twenty at most, was devoid of a single scar, and his only weapon was a lone dagger at his waist. If there was any point in his favor, it was his sturdy, well-trained physique.
"My skill? How should I prove it?"
"I am no mage, but I know a few essential techniques required for those who work at sea. Can you manipulate water and ice?"
Coincidentally, these were the very techniques Turan had practiced on his way here. Turan called a waiter to bring a glass of water, then performed a light demonstration before Pires.
He started by lifting the water into the air, then instantaneously vaporized and flash-froze it. He reshaped the ice into various intricate forms and, finally, commanded the ice itself to move according to his will.
Compared to the innate abilities of the Carmine bloodline, who commanded water and ice as if they were extensions of their own bodies, it was a modest display—but it was more than enough to satisfy the captain.
"Excellent skill. Have you ever worked at sea?"
"No, this is my first time."
"Hmm."
The captain seemed to be debating whether to believe Turan. After a moment, he nodded and spoke in a voice even more somber than before.
"Your skills seem sufficient. However, as you may have heard... due to budget issues, our ship cannot afford a salary befitting a knight."
The ship's owner had refused to provide the funds to hire a knight for protection. Turan nodded in understanding.
"I have my own reasons for needing to reach the Enril Desert, so I am satisfied even with a low wage."
In truth, he had been prepared to pay for the passage if necessary, but he didn't mention that. There was no need to spend money he didn't have to. A hint of relief flickered across the captain’s face, though his expression remained grave.
"And one more thing. I apologize, but I can only pay your salary after we arrive."
"Why is that?"
"Because we have absolutely no money right now."
According to the captain’s explanation, they had spent nearly all their funds purchasing the cargo currently loaded on the merchant ship. They would only have a surplus after reaching the Enril Desert and selling the goods for a profit. Given that he was making such a request even after Turan agreed to a low wage, it seemed they truly were broke.
"Well... fine. I can accept that."
"That is a relief! It is an honor to work with you."
The moment he heard the answer, the captain’s grim expression vanished, replaced by a bright smile. Seeing a rugged, one-eyed man make such a face, Turan couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. At the very least, the man seemed to have a decent sense of humor.
*
After concluding the negotiations, Turan spent the night at a well-appointed inn recommended by Captain Pires. Knowing that quality meals would be hard to come by on the ship, he ordered the finest full-course breakfast the inn provided the next morning.
"Your meal is served, sir!"
The culinary culture of Abacha, being a coastal city, was quite different from what Turan had experienced so far. It began with shellfish dishes, followed by steamed and grilled sea fish, seaweed, pickles, and salted seafood. Things like raw oysters were a bit too briny for his palate, but the grilled fish was generally enjoyable.
With time to spare after his meal, he visited a bookstore he had scouted the day before and bought two books: a collection of folklore regarding merfolk and a manual on sailing regulations. By the time he had finished tying the books to his bag with leather straps—since there was no room left inside—it was time for his appointment.
Heading to the designated location, he saw a massive three-masted sailing ship anchored at the pier. Turan looked around and spotted the sailor he had met yesterday barking orders to others.
"Put that at the very bottom! If you leave it on top, the weight will throw off the balance... Ah, welcome, Sir Knight!"
"Can I board now?"
"Yes!"
According to maritime protocol, a knight responsible for the ship's safety was considered equal in rank to the captain, so Turan spoke to him casually. Judging by his demeanor, the sailor seemed more comfortable with that as well.
"Come to think of it, I don't believe we properly introduced ourselves yesterday."
"I am Osvan, the First Mate!"
"First Mate? Does that mean there’s a second and a third as well?"
"That’s right!"
Turan had only asked in passing, but the earnestness of the reply caught him off guard. He nodded and climbed the rope ladder. With just two effortless leaps, he cleared several meters and landed on the deck. The surrounding sailors all turned to stare at him.
"Whoa..."
"Did you see that? Did you see him jump?"
"Impressive."
"Quiet! Don't you all have work to do? Do you want to scrub the deck again?"
It seemed rare for knights to show off such feats. The junior sailors of the Blue Marlin looked on in shock before scattering at the roar of their superior. A man in his early thirties, who had just chased the others away, gave a wide grin.
"Pleasure to meet you, Sir Knight. I’m Renak, the Boatswain."
His tone was rough, but it felt more like a boisterous, informal greeting than a sign of disrespect. He rubbed his cheeks, which were flushed red as if he were drunk, and welcomed Turan’s arrival.
"The bastards who died during the last voyage were all my direct subordinates. That goddamn shipowner treats losing men like filling a hole in the hull with oakum. If it weren't for the captain, I would’ve quit long ago."
Despite his coarse language, Turan could sense a genuine affection for his subordinates, and he mentally gave the boatswain a high score. Renak continued to pour out complaints about the shipowner as he led Turan to his cabin.
"Here we are."
The cabin was so narrow that Turan could touch both walls if he stretched out his arms. It contained nothing but a single bed and a chest for storage. The window was a simple wooden shutter on hinges.
"It’s a bit... cramped."
"Yeah, well. It is. The captain’s quarters are larger, but he has to keep all sorts of equipment in there."
Even the boisterous Renak seemed a bit sheepish about the accommodations. Still, as long as there was a place to lie down, it was enough. Turan unpacked his things by placing his bag in the chest.
Lying on the bed and watching the sunlight filter through the window, various thoughts crossed his mind.
Turan’s original plan when he first stayed with the Berk family was to head south from the Dakein Plains, then walk east from near the city of Maderi—where he had met Asiz—to reach the Enril Desert. This was the route described in the first book Turan had ever read, A Journey Around the World.
The problem was that the route had suddenly become a battlefield between the uprising Dark Elves and the Arabion family. If he ran into the Dark Elf army, he would likely be torn limb from limb and turned into a meal. Likewise, the Arabion family wouldn't take kindly to a mage of uncertain lineage wandering near a war zone.
Given the situation, the alternative Turan chose was to travel east to the North Sea, then take a ship southeast to land on the northern coast of the Enril Desert.
I wonder how Meisa is doing.
The Princess of Arabion was likely in the thick of the war against the Dark Elves. That gaunt, skeletal lady was a powerhouse Turan wouldn't dare dream of defeating right now, but no matter how strong a mage was, they weren't invincible. Once he reached the Enril Desert, he would have to gather news from that region as well.
*
"Kieeeeeeeek!"
In front of a scorched fortress, a knight of Arabion watched as Dark Elf warriors rushed toward him, letting out grotesque shrieks. These were beings who lacked spiritual power and couldn't command spirits—essentially commoners in human terms. However, their strength and reflexes were not much different from those of a trained knight.
It was due to the innate physical gap between the races. That was likely why, in the distant past, they were able to trample over humans and rule over them before the Frea Divine Clan descended.
"Hah!"
As he reinforced the speed and power of his sword with mana, a Dark Elf’s body was sliced in half. He scorched the face of the next one with a burst of fire before swinging his blade again. But there were simply too many of them.
Two, four, six...
His movements grew frantic as attacks began to slip through, gouging into his mana-tempered flesh. Through a vision blurred by blood loss, he saw a longsword swinging down toward him.
At the moment he sensed his death, a thunderous roar echoed from the sky, and a flash of light tore through the Dark Elves.
"Aaaaaaaagh!"
It was a scream similar to the previous shrieks, but laced with far more terror. From the darkened sky, a woman with a face as gaunt as a skeleton descended. A single bolt of lightning fired by Meisa Arabion instantly split into dozens of branches, incinerating every Dark Elf in the vicinity.
"T-thank you, My Lady..."
"Rejoin your unit."
"Yes!"
Having saved the stranded knight, Meisa looked down at the battlefield with a face etched with fatigue. The fight against the Dark Elf army was far from a fair duel. They used tunnels to send common soldiers on repeated ambushes against the Arabion army’s weak points. The corpses of the knights they killed were dragged underground to be turned into undead and used as fodder for their necromancers.
While there was no one strong enough to challenge Meisa directly, having an enemy that refused to fight head-on meant that no amount of strength mattered.
"Meisa, are you hurt anywhere?"
"No, Uncle."
Meisa gave a slight nod of greeting to the middle-aged noble flying toward her. His name was Kadram Arabion, the half-brother of the family head and the deputy commander of this subjugation squad.
"Don't push yourself too hard. You are far more precious than the lives of a few knights."
"I’m fine. This is nothing. More importantly, what is the status of the war?"
Despite Meisa’s cold tone, Kadram maintained his smiling face as he replied.
"Not bad. At this rate, we should reclaim this area soon. Though we haven't found the tunnels yet."
"Let me know when you find them. I’ll go myself."
"You should really rest..."
Before Kadram could finish, Meisa used her magic to lift herself into the air and flew off.
"Tsk, what an insolent girl. My brother raised her far too loosely."
His kind demeanor vanished instantly. Kadram clicked his tongue and glared at the spot where Meisa had been.
"She’ll end up just like her mother and brother at this rate..."