Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 38

Chapter 38: The Moon Wolf!
Crossed swords met amid the backdrop of purple flower spikes, evoking the image of the Royal Navy’s flag, which fluttered proudly in the brisk sea breeze.

Ten nautical miles from Lanya Island, the ship White Pigeon halted, its sails billowing softly. Nearby, a smaller three-masted sailboat gently approached.

“Swordsman” Il stepped onto the deck of the White Pigeon with a measured stride. His arrival was met by the robust laughter of Lord Sproul, who exclaimed from the fore, “Mr. Il, it has been too long! Your presence honors us once more.”

“My lord,” Il responded with a respectful nod, “I am here at your gracious invitation.”

“Ah, splendid!” Lord Sproul’s voice boomed across the deck, his face beaming with a feigned joviality that belied his internal turmoil. “I have arranged a splendid banquet in your honor. Let us dine and converse.”

It was known to a select few that “Sword Master” Il had once found himself indebted to Lord Sproul due to a twist of fate. The debt had bound Il to a promise of unreserved assistance should Lord Sproul ever call upon him.

And while assistance was owed, Lord Sproul was not one to skimp on the requisite compensation. Recruiting a renowned professional of the first order like Il was not only costly but excruciatingly painful for Lord Sproul’s resources.

Nevertheless, desperate times called for desperate measures, and the price mattered little to Lord Sproul’s now. His current mission, to capture the elusive Son of Blood, demanded it.

As Lord Sproul led Il toward the dining hall, the atmosphere was punctuated by a sudden pause. Il halted, prompting Lord Sproul to turn, a look of confusion etching his features.

“My lord, forgive my interruption,” Il began, his gaze lowered, “but I must confess I did not come alone.”

Lord Sproul’s surprise was palpable. For someone of his caliber to remain unaware of an additional presence was unthinkable, unless…

“Good evening, Mr. Lord,” a deep, resonant voice echoed from behind Il. A shadow seemed to peel itself from the ground, coalescing into the form of a human.

The air thickened with a palpable spiritual force, causing Lord Sproul’s expression to stiffen. “Second Order, Black Knight…” he murmured reverently.

Confusion and surprise swirled within him as he gave a stiff bow to the figure emerging from the darkness. “Master Black Knight, to what do we owe the honor of your visit?”

The shadowy figure chuckled, a sound low and gravelly. “Fear not, I have no interest in the Son of Blood,” the Black Knight assured. “I seek only a certain… trace.”

Lord Sproul’s face relaxed slightly, a cautious optimism returning. “If there is any way in which I can assist your search, you need only ask.”

“Just pretend I’m merely a shadow. Should trouble arise, perhaps I’ll lend a hand.” With these enigmatic words lingering in the air, the Black Knight dissolved into a fluid, dark mist and vanished from sight, leaving Lord Sproul and “Swordsman” Il alone in the dimly lit restaurant. The air hung heavy with an awkward silence between them.

“Huh…”

A few tense seconds passed before Lord Sproul expelled a long, drawn-out sigh of relief, the tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “Well then, I am sincerely grateful for your assistance, Mr. Il. Let’s partake in a meal before we proceed.”

Feeling a tinge of guilt for having brought the enigmatic Black Knight into the mix, Il shook his head slightly. “My lord, perhaps we should address the matter at hand first. Where is the target located?”

“There’s no need to rush,” Lord Sproul replied, his composure restored. “Our target currently resides on Lanya Island, a notorious pirate haven. Our warships would be easily overtaken should they venture too near.”

“We’ll bide our time here. Once he leaves the island, we’ll make our move.”

“If he remains there, then we implement the backup plan,” Il affirmed, nodding in understanding.

…

Lanya Island, at the bustling port.

The pirate ship Black Rose lay anchored, a hive of activity. Pirates, like industrious ants, scurried back and forth, loading the ship with provisions including drinks, food, and fruits.

Alongside the Black Rose, several other pirate vessels bobbed in the harbor. The pirates aboard exchanged wary glances with the newcomer but maintained their distance, adhering to the unspoken rule of non-engagement unless directly provoked.

A short distance from the bustling docks, Ryan stood conversing with a portly, middle-aged man draped in an opulent robe, his head shining baldly in the sunlight. “Mr. Sman, I gather you’re here to discuss a ship purchase?”

“Indeed, purchasing is always on the agenda,” the man replied with a sly smile, his eyes narrowing like those of a shrewd fox. “You understand, of course, that we in the Black Onyx Chamber of Commerce seek profit above all. Bringing our operations to Lanya Island involves substantial risk, which justifies our considerably lower purchasing rates compared to those at Silver Moon Bay.”

“No matter,” Ryan responded with a grin, unfazed. “If the terms are right, we’ll close the deal.”

The ship Ryan was poised to sell was none other than the original Black Rose. With the acquisition of a new, high-performance version, the older three-masted sailing ship had become a superfluous burden. Now, anchored at Lanya Island, the plan was clear: sell it swiftly.

The task fell to Ryan for several reasons. Freni, with her unmistakable appearance, was too conspicuous for such a public dealing, and Cecilia, the stern knight, was hardly the type for haggling over ship sales. Thus, Ryan, as the ship’s navigator and third in command, was the natural choice for the job, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

Lanya Island’s port, a notorious haven for pirates, buzzed with activity even at night. Dominating over 90% of its bustling trade was the Black Onyx Chamber of Commerce, a giant whose tentacles stretched from the Kingdom of Augustus across various nations, dealing not just in the legal but also in the morally ambiguous.

The Black Onyx Chamber of Commerce operated under a notorious maxim: “With sufficient profit, even the law is underfoot.” Their bold presence on Lanya Island was, therefore, to be expected.

Upon hearing Ryan’s terms, Siman, the portly director of the Black Onyx Chamber of Commerce, flashed a cunning smile and offered, “How about ten thousand pounds?”

In the Kingdom of Augustus, the pound, composed of silver and other metals, held considerable value. One pound could fetch ten pence, and a penny could buy half a pound of black bread, a sturdy currency with significant purchasing power.

The offer of 10,000 pounds for a 300-ton three-masted sailboat was undoubtedly low, well below the market rate of at least 30,000 pounds. However, after a moment’s consideration, Ryan did not dismiss the offer outright. Freni had set his baseline at 5,000 pounds, and by that standard, Siman’s proposal, while modest, was a starting point for negotiations.

“I can accept this price, but I have a few additional requests,” Ryan said, his tone implying that the deal was far from settled.

Siman’s smile remained unwavering as he encouraged, “Please, elaborate on your conditions.”

“Firstly,” Ryan began, “the supplies currently loaded on the ship should be included as complimentary extras for us.”

“That’s easily done,” Siman replied with a casual nod, dismissing the cost of the supplies as negligible compared to the strategic gain of acquiring the Black Rose.

“Secondly,” Ryan continued, extending two fingers to emphasize his point, “I require an introduction to the finest blacksmith on Lanya Island. Ideally, someone who is a ‘spiritual blacksmith.'”

“A ‘spiritual blacksmith’?” Siman echoed, though his confidence didn’t waver. “That’s not a difficult request. We have connections with just such a craftsman.”

Ryan’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “In that case, we have a deal.” He hadn’t truly expected to find a reputed ‘spiritual blacksmith’ so readily available.

The transaction concluded smoothly, with both parties expressing satisfaction as the exchange of funds and the sailboat were finalized.

Returning to the Black Rose, Ryan relayed the details of the transaction and the acquired funds to Freni. Then, led by Siman, he set off to meet the esteemed ‘Spiritual Blacksmith’.

As for the materials and funds needed to forge a new blade, the ice-tooth saber-tooth fish components, these were securely stored in a space ring on his finger. Not the dark blue one Freni wore, but another, a silver ring with a capacity of ten cubic meters, a gift from Phryne.

The space ring, a marvel in its own right, was prized for its ability to store vast quantities relative to its size. A ten cubic meter ring was considered a low-level rare item, typically crafted by a first-level professional following the Artisan Path.

The title ‘Spiritual Blacksmith’ wasn’t a formal profession but a revered designation among the First-Level Craftsmen specializing in weapon and armor forging. While Craftsmen could master various disciplines, from shipbuilding to construction, the ‘Spiritual Blacksmith’ was honored for their exceptional skill in metallurgy and enchantment, crafting items imbued with almost mystical properties.

The broad thoroughfare of Lanya Island’s port was expansive enough to allow four horses to gallop side by side without hindrance. Every fifty meters, the glow of kerosene lamps punctuated the roadside, their flickering light mingling with the luminescence of a brilliant moon overhead, casting the road in a clear, almost ethereal light.

As they marched, Ryan and Siman engaged in easy conversation, their voices low against the soft clatter of their steps.

“You know, a renowned ‘spiritual blacksmith’ named Master Oruch has set up shop here on Lanya Island,” Siman began, his tone casual but informative. “He arrived under the auspices of the Black Onyx Chamber of Commerce and has been forging here for several years now.”

“If you’re thinking of commissioning a weapon from him, you’d best come prepared with your own materials. And don’t forget,” Siman added, a hint of seriousness in his tone, “a generous fee is crucial if you want to secure his services.”

Ryan nodded in understanding, his mind processing the information. “I see. The Black Onyx Chamber of Commerce may have led me here, but it’s up to me to manage the dealings with Master Oruch.”

The conversation took a swift turn as Siman glanced around, lowering his voice slightly. “By the way, did you encounter any sea monsters on your way to Lanya Island this time?”

Ryan’s interest was piqued, and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Have there been many attacks on ships recently?”

“That’s exactly it,” Siman sighed heavily, his gaze drifting toward the sparsely populated port. “Notice how few ships are docked tonight? It’s all due to recent monster attacks.”

He paused, as if deciding how much more to share, until Ryan discreetly slid a few silver pounds towards him. With a knowing smile, Siman leaned in closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper.

“Just on the last full moon, there was an unusual sighting over at the Whirlpool Islands. A rare creature, the Moon Wolf, appeared, a beast of legend that only emerges under the glow of the full moon. This creature isn’t just formidable; it’s a harbinger of hidden treasures, stirring up the local fauna into a frenzy with its presence.”

“The ripples of its appearance have even reached here, hundreds of miles away, inciting sea monsters to attack passing vessels more frequently.”

“And with rumors of treasure, pirates and fortune seekers are swarming the Whirlpool Islands, hoping to encounter the Moon Wolf on the next full moon. The potential rewards are too tempting to resist.” Siman’s eyes gleamed with the thrill of the tale, and Ryan listened, absorbed, the wheels in his mind already turning.