Chapter 290: I Still Trust My Junior

Menielman Soumet led the fleet back to port, accompanied by Tumisan and Sabastine, whose faces showed faint joy.

Tumisan had brought some members of the Orc Assassin Alliance to join Menielman, hoping that the Empire’s First Rose could help him realize his ambitions.

Sabastine, a female pirate, had once been impressed by Zimourman Axel Robin’s charisma and followed him when he pledged allegiance to the Fars Empire. At first, she was pleased—being a navy admiral in a great empire was far better than living the dangerous life of a pirate. However, Sabastine soon discovered that after Zimourman returned to Fars, he ignored the pirates who had submitted to him. Within the Imperial Navy, they were often suppressed and mistreated. True to her fiery nature, Sabastine rebelled, colluding with a group of pirates to break away from the Fars Empire Navy and return to piracy.

Unlike Tumisan, Sabastine had not willingly sought refuge. Menielman, who was also under pressure within the Imperial Navy, had no choice but to seek supplies independently. She discovered Sabastine’s stronghold and attacked it. During a one-on-one duel, Menielman subdued Sabastine. For a pirate, loyalty to a master was inconsequential; Sabastine surrendered without hesitation.

After surrendering, Sabastine was concerned about Menielman’s ability to sustain her forces. After all, even the Empire’s First Rose was reduced to raiding pirates for resources. Her situation seemed dire.

But Sabastine didn’t expect Menielman to suddenly acquire a large stockpile of supplies from Silver Dove Castle and later establish a stronghold in the small Ingrima Empire city of Cappadocia. This base was not only a commercial hub but also provided Menielman with nearly twenty ships, enabling her to rapidly expand her power and secure her footing in the Aggras Sea.

Sabastine thought this was already remarkable, but when she learned Menielman planned to attack Saint Michael Island, she almost thought the woman had gone mad. As a pirate, Sabastine knew better than anyone how formidable the Golden Rams Fleet was—far beyond Menielman’s ability to conquer.

Yet...

Sabastine was astonished when Menielman enlisted a “person” to infiltrate Saint Michael Island, repeatedly providing critical intelligence, including the movement of the fearsome Queen Bee and the whereabouts of Herolf, leader of the Golden Rams Fleet. This information allowed Menielman to stage an ambush.

The intelligence stated that the Queen Bee had been stolen...

Sabastine dismissed this as nonsense—only a fool would believe it. However, this time, Herolf was indeed without the Queen Bee and accompanied only by a single alchemical warship. This allowed Menielman to catch him off guard.

With three Saint-ranked combatants joining forces, they pressured Herolf into a mistake, seizing over twenty of his ships, all of excellent quality.

Menielman’s fleet now boasted a staggering 120 ships—crossing the hundred-ship threshold—and had become the largest fleet in the Aggras Sea outside the Five Great Empires, though it still lacked an alchemical warship.

Officially, Menielman remained a naval admiral of the Fars Empire.

Sabastine remarked, “Although we didn’t severely wound Herolf, capturing his fleet should deter him from coveting Cappadocia.”

“Still, we must be prepared in case he returns with the Queen Bee for a decisive battle.”

“That ancient magical warship is truly ferocious.”

“Not easy to deal with.”

Menielman replied calmly, “He will not regain the Queen Bee.”

Sabastine scoffed, “Your junior claims someone has taken the Queen Bee. Although his recent intelligence has been reliable, I still urge you not to believe such nonsense.”

“You know as well as I do—so long as Herolf possesses the Golden Ring, no one can take the Queen Bee from him.”

Menielman said softly, “I still trust my junior.”

“Enough. Let’s not argue.”

“We’re returning to Cappadocia to reorganize the fleet,” Menielman continued. “Sabastine, it’s time for you to command your own fleet again.”

Hearing she would have her own fleet once more, Sabastine beamed, her concerns about this junior’s intelligence completely forgotten.

Menielman had been exceedingly secretive about her junior’s information, never revealing his identity even to Tumisan or Sabastine. This left Sabastine curious—who was this graduate of Sheffield University that Menielman trusted so deeply?

When the fleet reached Cappadocia’s waters, the three Saint-ranked figures grew tense. Outside the city, they saw over a hundred ships—warships and merchant vessels alike—anchored in the port. Many of these ships were famous across the Seven Seas, often linked to slavers or the dark trade, and many had connections to the Golden Rams Fleet.

A sudden thought struck Sabastine: “Could this be a ploy by Herolf? Did he lure us into attacking him so he could dispatch the Queen Bee to seize Cappadocia?”

“Even if the fleet remains intact, losing our base would leave us without resupply.”

“Herolf is truly a cunning old fox.”

“But he really sacrificed over twenty ships...”

“Is this some kind of war strategy?”

As Sabastine tried to reconcile the contradictions in her logic, a figure radiating brilliant light floated into the sky. A gentle voice echoed above them: “I am High Priest Auguslatin. Menielman, you need not worry. These are the ships we brought back from Saint Michael Island. They are the spoils of war.”

A large vessel sailed out of Cappadocia’s harbor. Standing on its deck, Charlot Mecklenburg stood with hands on his hips, exuding joy. He had just calculated the spoils from this “raid,” a fortune comparable to the wealth of 27 or 28 Barons Febollet combined.

Charlot wore a broad smile, not because he was reuniting with Menielman, but because of the vast fortune he had gained. “Ridiculous! I crossed worlds thinking I’d become a businessman. What business could compare to profiting from war?”

“Well, fine!”

“Writing novels is quite lucrative too. Emperor Alfred Guillaume even promised to grant me land in the New Continent once I deliver the Red Dragon Emperor manuscript!”

“I wonder how large that land will be.”

With such thoughts, Charlot’s face radiated happiness.

To Sabastine, his expression spoke volumes. Her earlier shock at learning the port’s ships were captured from Saint Michael Island had transformed into a single thought: “No wonder she’s the Empire’s First Rose—her charm is truly irresistible.”

“A man who can invite High Priest Auguslatin, demonstrate both intellect and courage, and capture over a hundred ships from Saint Michael Island, is no less extraordinary than Zimourman.”

“And such an extraordinary man is her loyal follower.”

“When will I have such a man chase after me?”

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