The scene was chaos.
Many people began arguing with the soldiers.
Goods transported from the north could only become cost-effective if shipped by water.
With no notice whatsoever, the river was suddenly blocked.
Wouldn't that ruin their businesses?
Instantly, the crowd grew agitated, verging on a riot.
Sylas didn't want trouble.
Holding his token, he finally found the boatmaster who had taken his deposit.
The woman wore brown, short work clothes, revealing coppery arms.
Right now, she was squatting silently on a canopied riverboat, watching the chaos.
Clearly, she was anxious too. No business meant no food.
Were they supposed to go fishing in the river?
Suppressing his fear, Sylas approached politely.
"Boatmaster, is it really impossible to leave? It's urgent."
"Pah."
The boatmaster spat into the murky river water.
She pointed at the soldiers.
"Don't talk to me. Talk to them."
"But I paid a deposit..."
The woman sneered. "So what? It's not me stopping you. Deposits aren't refundable. We've already spent it on wine."
Sylas gritted his teeth.
"I truly have an emergency. I can pay more!"
The woman glanced at him.
His clothes were clean and neat.
Even veiled, his figure exuded a certain grace.
A man who had surrendered his essence naturally possessed a certain matronly charm.
Her tone softened slightly.
Why bully a young lord?
"It's not about money," she said, "Since last night, no one's allowed to sail.
Especially cargo.
Things like salt, iron ore—none of it can be shipped.
If found, it's considered aiding the enemy.
Looks to me like we're going to war with Stonewold.
Seeing us like this, Stonewold will surely get the news.
They're not stupid; they'll definitely blockade the downstream.
So, young lord, take my advice. Go back.
Even if you go south, you might not get through the pass."
"..."
Sylas stood under the sun, speechless for a long time.
Going back meant facing a lightless dungeon forever.
He was sure Isolde had discovered he was in Celestia Ridge.
Otherwise, she wouldn't make such a big scene.
She wasn't rushing to find him.
The bigger the commotion, the more it served as a distraction.
After all, she was here on official business.
Who said she came to catch you?
But he knew. Isolde was definitely up to no good.
He turned away with difficulty, then, unwilling, looked back and pleaded, "My mother is in Ironpeak right now. She's seriously ill. If I don't get back... I might never see her again."
As he spoke, genuine tears welled up in his eyes.
Life is a play; all depends on acting.
If he didn't cry now, once he was in the dungeon, he'd cry without tears.
"This..." The boatmaster hesitated.
She made her living on the water.
Being unable to take passengers was frustrating.
And these official demands were excessive.
Not allowing cargo was one thing.
But what was wrong with taking a few passengers?
She scanned the soldiers on the bank and sighed.
"I can sense the young lord's filial piety. Alright then.
Tonight, during the third watch, walk south along the riverbank a few hundred paces.
We have a small boat heading south.
But we won't go through the pass.
We stop near Sentinel Peaks."
Sylas nodded gravely. "Good. I'll be there."
His heart leaped with joy.
Good. There was still hope.
Sylas didn't even return to the county town.
He found a tea house near the docks and sat there until evening.
He didn't want to go back.
He was afraid if he went back, he might not even get out of the town.
As for what would happen when Crystal discovered he was gone...
Sylas had no energy to think about that.
He had left safeguards to absolutely ensure the safety of the Lyn mother and daughter.
He sat there, occasionally lowering his head to avoid being noticed.
He watched groups of soldiers arrive at the dock, securing it.
Then, large and small ships came from the direction of Northspire, clogging the dock completely.
These warships were imposing.
Their arrival quieted the chaos considerably.
The longer he waited, the more panicked he felt.
A sense of pressure, like a net spreading overhead.
Perhaps because the scene was so chaotic, Sylas remained unscathed, though frightened.
Evening came.
The docks were lit by lanterns and torches, bright as day. There was no sign of relaxation.
The tea house closed.
Sylas found a corner to hide in.
"Thump. Thump. Thump..." Suddenly, the rhythmic sound of marching feet echoed on the street.
At that moment, Sylas nearly broke.
The Aethelred's Phalanx?!
Just like the night he was captured, these terrifying elites had filled his family's courtyard.
From the moment he encountered the Phalanx, he hadn't had a single happy day.
Why would such elite troops suddenly appear at the Celestia Ridge docks?
What was worth the Phalanx's presence at this small dock?
If they were here to capture him, it was terrifying.
He shrank into the corner, motionless.
He held out like this until the third watch.
The commotion outside finally lessened.
Sylas emerged from the corner and carefully observed the dock.
Most of those who couldn't leave had dispersed.
A few with unshipable goods slept on-site, guarding their belongings.
It was summer, after all; the nights weren't that cold.
It seemed the dock was truly sealed off.
Sylas hurried south.
Following the riverbank south, listening to the rush of the river, his heart swelled with excitement.
Was he about to escape through the last gap?
He had to leave quickly. He couldn't withstand any more turmoil.
Then, he saw a faint light in the riverside grass, like a firefly.
He hurried forward.
A small canopied boat was preparing to depart.
Sylas rushed forward and saw the boatmaster from daytime.
His hanging heart finally settled.
The small boat left the bank.
Following the Fenwater, aided by the night, it shot south like an arrow from a bow.
It was Sylas's first time on a boat.
In the cabin, gripping the handrail, watching the dark, rolling muddy water outside, his heart surged.
So what if it was a dragnet?
Hadn't he escaped anyway?
The world's heroines were indeed as numerous as fish in a river.
Thinking of this, Sylas's chest felt expansive...
"Eh? Look! What's that?"
"Are those warships? Can't they be quiet even at night?"
"Is this the start of a war?"
The passengers on the boat suddenly grew anxious.
Looking north, they saw vast stretches of light.
Focusing, they realized it was rows of lanterns and torches on warships.
The passengers pointed at the suddenly appearing Aethelred warships behind them, feeling an unprecedented pressure.
Their small canopied boat seemed like an ant before these great ships.
If a warship rammed them, they would splinter instantly.
"Small boat ahead, heave to immediately for inspection! Continue forward, and you will be destroyed without mercy!"
Soldiers on the warships shouted to the boatmaster.