On the vast ocean, a ship departing from the Southern Continent carried a large number of rare treasures, heading toward the Kingdom of Loen, hoping to avoid the ongoing war.
The sun blazed brightly in the sky, yet the temperature was much milder than usual. Even standing on deck under direct sunlight didn't feel as scorching as before.
Outside the captain's cabin stood an old man who had sailed the seas for over forty years, Old Thorne. A relic of his trade, he understood the ocean and the sky like the back of his hand.
From an abnormal cloud or a faint sea breeze, he could sense the signs of an approaching storm.
Observing the stars was a required skill, and he excelled at it as well.
Recently, he had a persistent feeling, the sun this year wasn't as intense as in previous years. Though the change was subtle, he had still noticed something unusual.
Could something be wrong with the sun?
Such a thought was laughable. No one would believe him, and he knew that well, so he never mentioned it to others, he simply spent more time each day observing the sun.
"Old Thorne, we're almost at Puning Port. Thanks to your navigation, we've been able to avoid storms and huge waves so easily along the way."
The captain brought over a full mug of dark beer. Its bitterness wasn't favored by the young, but for old-timers like him, it had the best flavor.
Old Thorne took the mug and drank deeply. The dark, murky liquid trickled down his beard, soaking his collar.
Letting out a satisfied belch, he said, "Captain Ror, you're too polite. This is my livelihood, I naturally have to do my best to keep the ship away from danger."
He chuckled. "Besides, I'm on this ship too. I wouldn't gamble my own life with death."
Captain Ror chatted briefly before preparing to leave. Just as he turned, Old Thorne tugged at his sleeve and lowered his voice.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but dangers at sea are easier to handle than those caused by people. I have a bad feeling about this voyage. You should make more preparations."
Captain Ror patted his shoulder, assuring him he'd stay vigilant and telling him not to worry.
When the lighthouse of Puning Port finally came into view, Old Thorne's worries eased somewhat. Without rampant pirate activity, the coastal ports of Southville County were considered relatively safe.
But just as the crew began to relax, a lookout spotted unfamiliar ships approaching from three directions.
"Pirates!"
"Pirates incoming!"
The alarm was quickly sounded. The crew snapped to attention, taking up their battle positions under the captain's orderly commands.
They were already close to Puning Port. If a fight broke out, the port's garrison would come to assist, they just needed to hold out.
That was what everyone believed. Everyone except Old Thorne.
Having sailed for decades, he had seen firsthand the weakness Southville County had shown toward pirates over the recent years.
The port's defenders might refuse to send naval support under the excuse of protecting the harbor, even if pirates were right at their doorstep.
Good omens were often wishful thinking, but bad premonitions had a way of coming true.
Under the anxious gaze of the entire crew, Puning Port merely sounded its alarm and strengthened its defenses against a potential attack, without dispatching even a single warship.
Old Thorne and the others were completely surrounded by six or seven pirate ships.
Realizing they could no longer rely on the port's garrison, the captain gritted his teeth and ordered full speed ahead. Even if it meant colliding with enemy ships, they would force a path to safety!
With engines at full power, the ship charged forward with a desperate, all-or-nothing momentum. The pirates, caught off guard, were thrown into disarray, leaving a gap in their encirclement.
The captain immediately ordered the crew to seize the opportunity and break through.
Their luck held, they escaped the encirclement. But during the charge, the ship had nearly been sunk by cannon fire. Water seeped in everywhere, and fires broke out across the deck.
Even after breaking free and nearing the port, the defenders of Puning Port still made no move to deter the pirates.
They would rather let their warships sit idle in the harbor than sail out.
Old Thorne, long accustomed to the incompetence of Southville County's port defenses, simply sighed. He watched as the younger sailors and passengers hurled crude curses at the port's garrison, the Duke of Southville, and all the cowardly nobles.
Fortunately, the small pirate group, only six or seven ships, did not dare to directly confront the port's forces and eventually retreated in frustration.
The burning ship finally docked. But instead of a warm welcome, they were met with a cold docking tax bill.
When sailors and passengers protested, the port guards suddenly showed remarkable "bravery."
Refuse to cooperate, and you'd be beaten.
Refuse again, and you'd be jailed.
Cause further trouble, and you'd be shot on the spot.
No matter how angry he was, the captain had no choice but to pay a large sum.
Between the massive tax and repair costs, even with the high ticket earnings from the voyage, they still ended up losing money.
From a distance, Old Thorne could hear the captain's furious cursing, gone was the earlier friendliness when he had offered him a drink.
Among the passengers, several nobles from the Kingdom of Loen indignantly declared that once they returned to Backlund, they would report the matter to the king and strongly condemn the uselessness of Southville County's navy.
After listening for a while, Old Thorne went to quietly speak with Captain Ror. Soon after, the captain composed himself and approached those passengers, subtly guiding the conversation toward criticizing the incompetence of everyone in Southville County, from the Duke down to the lowest sailor.
In a third-floor room of a hotel in Puning Port, Hastur watched everything unfold through the window.
The incompetence of Southville County's navy, and their fear of pirates, was truly eye-opening.
He had already gathered information: within Puning Port alone, there were over twenty small warships, eight medium warships, and even one heavy warship.
Their overall naval strength far exceeded that of the seven pirate ships.
Aside from one barely qualifying as a medium vessel, the pirate ships were all small, completely outmatched by properly equipped warships.
Even dispatching just two medium warships would have been enough to deter them. Yet the result was shocking.
Hastur felt deep concern for the Kingdom of Loen's coastal defenses.
With such combat capability and attitude, if the flames of war from the Southern Continent spread here, the entire coastal defense line would collapse instantly.
After all, a navy that feared pirates could not possibly stand against a regular army from the Southern Continent.
Standing by another window, Sharron turned her gaze toward him. She knew that half of Hastur's purpose in coming to Southville County was to strengthen its coastal defenses.
"Quite disappointing. Even I can't stand to watch this," Hastur said with a smile.
Sharron calmly uttered a single phrase, "Very difficult."
"The internal conflict in the Southern Continent won't end anytime soon. If they want to attack Southville County, they'll need at least half a year to prepare. There's still time." Hastur remained optimistic.
"You can borrow momentum."
"Miss Sharron, how did you know what I was thinking?"
Hastur looked at her in surprise. He had indeed planned to use those returning Loen nobles to complain to the king, putting pressure on the Duke of Southville to delegate authority to him.
Sharron glanced at him indifferently. "Do I look stupid?"
Hastur quickly clarified he hadn't meant that. At that moment, Ariella, lounging on the windowsill, let out a couple of meows at Sharron.
The meaning was clear, her master was indeed underestimating her intelligence.
A faint chill flickered in Sharron's eyes as she glanced at Hastur before grabbing Ariella and giving her a firm rub.
She had only recently become an Instigator, yet she was already adept at stirring trouble.
....
"My dear sister, your troublesome second brother has safely returned from the Southern Continent and stepped onto the kingdom's territory at four in the afternoon on March 8.
"This should have been a joyful occasion, but near Puning Port, we encountered a minor incident. Our kingdom's 'valiant' navy was actually afraid of a few pirates, allowing them to plunder merchant ships just outside the harbor. I am deeply concerned about our coastal defenses.
"Has the ever-wise Earl Hall failed to see this? Has he, too, been blinded by false appearances?
"If one day the flames of war spread from the south, this place will become the perfect springboard for invading the kingdom.
"Perhaps I should stay here and wait for war to come, earning myself an earldom on the battlefield.
"Sigh... I really don't want to return to Backlund and see Hibbert's smug face. He'll surely mock me for leaving the Southern Continent and use it to nail me to the pillar of shame.
"But a wanderer returning from afar misses his family dearly, especially his kind and lovely sister. It's been a long time since he's heard her call him 'Second Brother.'"
Late at night, under the dim yellow light of the hotel room, Alfred Hall, draped in a black coat, wrote diligently.
After filling an entire sheet, he carefully reviewed it several times before sending it off to Backlund ahead of him.
He planned to stay in Southville County for a few days to assess the situation and see whether it was suitable for him to build a career here.
At the same time, he intended to probe Earl Hall's stance, whether he preferred him to return to Backlund or had other plans for his future.