Sarika stepped onto the deck, filled with confidence. Her cloak billows slightly in the sea breeze.
Behind her, her subordinates filed up the gangplank in an orderly line.
Without wasting time on greetings or formalities, she gave the crews a sharp nod, signalling them to load the supplies she had prepared beforehand.
The crew sprang into motion. Crates and barrels of provisions such as salted meat, dried grains, hardtack, water casks, spare timber, and even bundles of firewood were hoisted from carts.
Although there are plenty of supplies on the ships, having more is always beneficial.
The pace was astonishing. What normally took half a day was done in under an hour.
Onshore, the villagers stood rooted in place, gaping at the spectacle.
They were poor fishermen, people who spent their entire lives with nets and boats that were barely fit for the shallow coastal waters.
To them, this vessel was no mere ship but an iron fortress.
