hermitscave

Chapter 511 - Standoff

During the Lightning War, Port Ulta had been one of only two major Sachay cities which hadn't seen any fighting — the other being Cashan. In fact, the only harm to come to the city during the war been caused by their own Lord Vareo, who had sent many of his warriors out to die in Antila, even those too young to be called adults. Whether such an act was forced by the occupiers or whether he was eager to prove his loyalty and ability to his arcavian masters, House Vareo had unmistakably shown their opposition to Corco's rule in the process.

However, just as the king's troops were about to descend upon Port Ulta, before he had lost all of his remaining advantages, the lord of the city had struck a private deal with the king. In the end, House Vareo had somehow managed to cling onto their position as the masters of the estate, and even their patriarch was allowed to retain his role. Even so, there had still been great changes in the city ever since the end of the war.

For one, the many foreign-owned businesses which had dominated the city over the years had disappeared almost entirely. Compared to the past, it was much harder to find someone from Arcavia walk the streets these days. Back then, people from foreign countries had been everywhere, though the de-facto foreign occupation had hardly made the city look like an international metropolis. Not only had there been many arcavian soldiers who had come to fight the southern kingdom and protect their possessions, there had also been countless merchants eager to take advantage of their kingdom's new territory.

Although factually, Port Ulta had been part of the central kingdom in the past, in reality the territory had been fully controlled by forces from Borna and Cahlia. With support from their governments — and the swords and guns from the arcavian knights and soldiers — overseas merchants had pressured the local lord into selling them land for cheap. At the same time, they had signed many unequal trade deals with House Vareo, and forced them to implement many policies to benefit the new masters of the land. As a result, many eager merchants had bought warehouses and shops along this valuable trade route, to take full advantage of their rule.

Now, almost all of these people had vacated their ill-begotten gains. Only a few stubborn merchants remained, unwilling to give up the ravenous profits they had enjoyed, and unrepentant of the crimes they had committed to achieve them. Most, however, had seen the signs of the time and left together with the cahlian and bornish fleets after their defeat at Antila, and the subsequent peace deal. Though of course, control of Port Ulta hadn't simply returned to the locals.

In place of the departing Arcavians, people from Saniya — the new masters of the city — had moved in. Some of the oriental merchants had been replaced with locals, of course. At last, Port Ulta finally had its own Wonders of the World shop. On top of that, government officials from Rapra Castle had set up offices in Port Ulta, to check on the actions of House Vareo.

After all, even if Lord Vareo had struck a deal with the king, that didn't mean he was trusted. In fact, extensive oversight to prevent betrayal or spy activities had been part of the agreement in the first place. Finally, a number of soldiers from Saniya's army had also been stationed here, ready to defend the city from new incursions from the sea.

Though, most recently, a diplomatic delegation had also been added to this crowd from Saniya. Yet unlike the relatively harmonious — or at least calm-before-the-storm — picture elsewhere in the post-war city, open division had shown itself within the delegation shortly after their arrival.

"Now then, husband, will you not let me, the kingdom's official envoy, onto your ship?" Royal Envoy Tamaya di Pluritac asked Atau Sonco Saqartu, admiral of the southern kingdom. Behind her stood her delegation, a group of ten people who were eager to board the kingdom's fleet of five ships, which were docked at the pier beyond the admiral.

"Who are you saying is your husband, Tama?" Admiral Atau Sonco Saqartu refuted, backed by a line of more than twenty sailors. Many of them were highly experienced veterans. Some had even followed Atau in his last great journey around the world. However, none of them had ever seen a domestic dispute like this before. Though while they certainly weren't comfortable with the current conversation, they still backed up their captain without question. Thus, a standoff between allies had ensued at Port Ulta's harbor.

"You may as well be," Tama claimed, and sneered dismissively. "So, will you get out of the way, or will you get violent with an innocent woman?"

"I'm wondering where that innocent woman is meant to be," Atau mumbled, which immediately caused a violent reaction from his opposite.

"What was that?" Tama shot back, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

"Nothing," Atau immediately replied, as if on reflex. Yet a split-second later, he looked back at his men, who were staring at him with strange eyes, as if they were seeing their admiral for the first time today. As he felt blood rush to his face, Atau thanked the stars for the beard which covered his embarrassment, before he once more tried to reason with the manic woman.

"I just said, I don't mind you coming on board. I mean, it's an order of the kingdom. I don't have a way to change that, and I don't want to either," he reiterated, before he pointed at the people behind Tama and added: "But I won't allow you to bring your little servants with you. Ghosts aboard a ship are bad luck."

If he couldn't be aggressive with Tama, he would at least be aggressive with her men. If nothing, it would restore his image in the eyes of his crew. However, Tama's voice remained as calm — and her face as smug — as before.

"You want the kingdom's envoy to travel without an entourage? How will anyone take our kingdom seriously if it is only represented by a single, lone woman?"

As she spoke, Tama tried to step past Atau. However, the admiral quickly kept up to get in her way again. Before, he had tried to stay diplomatically vague, but he once more realized that he didn't have the patience for these kinds of games. If this woman was happy to pretend she couldn't understand him, then he would have to express himself more clearly.

"Then pick someone normal, not your group of assassins!" he thus shouted in response. "Don't think I don't know what kinds of people you've brought along. You could have picked some officials from the castle, or grabbed some merchants off the streets to help with negotiations. There's so many normal people you could choose. Even if you just brought soldiers for protection I would've said nothing. Just don't bring some damn assassins along! You're traveling to make allies, not to kill dissidents!"

The more he spoke, the angrier Atau got. He simply couldn't understand why this woman would make such a baffling choice. More and more, he felt convinced that she was doing it purely to spite him, and to undermine his authority. Didn't she care at all about the success of her mission, about her own future?

She obviously knew that I didn't want any ghosts on my ships, and brought them on purpose.

Though no matter what Atau thought, it seemed to be no concern of Tamaya's.

"And what if I insist on bringing them?" the kingdom's new envoy asked, and took another deft, sudden step past Atau. This time, the admiral didn't react in time. Since he couldn't block her again, he simply reached out and grabbed her by the waist.

"In that case, you can swim to the bronze coast," he threatened.

However, the only response to him was an arrogant smirk from the arrogant woman. Even her goons only took half a step forward, before they got back into formation.

After a moment, Atau frowned. He realized that his threats were empty. As he himself had said, he didn't have the authority to deny Tama passage aboard his ship. Yet only when her bemused eyes motioned downwards did he realize the real reason for her smirk: Until now, Atau still held onto her waist, as if it was natural. In fact, the scandalous wench had the gall to hold onto his shoulders while she was at it.

In a perfectly reasonable reaction, the admiral pushed the smug woman away. While they traded places in the process, Atau wasn't worried that the assassins would stab him in the back, not after he had so publicly shown affection with their master.

Rather, his face turned even more red as he observed his own men, worried that his weak performance may reduce his standing in their minds. It was the first time Atau felt embarrassed about flirting with a woman in public. Meanwhile, his sailors looked on in baffled silence as their admiral was pretending to despise the woman he had spent so many nights with.

Just another reason to stay away from this woman for a while, he thought, otherwise my men will lose all respect for me.

"Okay, I'll still take you along," he finally conceded to ease the awkward atmosphere, though he still had to find a way to save his reputation. Thus, he added: "But if you insist on bringing your assassins, you can forget about using my contacts. You're a diplomat now, right, Tama? Surely, you can handle everything on your own, in foreign countries, without speaking the language or knowing the customs. If you fail, you'll only end up with nothing upon your return. But maybe you don't care, do you? Surely, you'll do fine without my help, right?"

Finally, Atau felt like he had caught Tama's weakness. Maybe this diplomacy business wasn't so tough after all. As his face distorted with glee, he enjoyed the sight of his opposite's angry face for a change. Tama's loss of control was always a sight to behold. Yet her next words once more stung like a dagger.

"Don't think I don't know who those so-called contacts of yours are."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Atau said, but even he could tell that his shaky voice was far from convincing.

"As we sail the world together, how many of your little women will I come across? It won't be one in every port, will it? Or possibly even more? You may as well speak the truth now, before you get in trouble later."

"Hey, we had an agreement! No, wait, I never agreed to anything in the first place! The agreement is off!" a panicked Atau shouted, and waved his arms around pointlessly.

In the past, as their casual hookups had become a regular occurrence, Tama had confronted Atau with a threat: She would ignore his women outside the country, so long as he wouldn't find any new ones at home. Although Atau had never really agreed to the ridiculous demands — his claim remained that they weren't in a serious relationship, after all — he still felt that the agreement should preclude Tama from complaining now. However, the unreasonable woman obviously saw it differently.

"No, the agreement was that I won't care about your philandering, so long as you do it somewhere I can't see," She explained, as that damn, smug smile returned to her face. "But I can see you quite well from here."

Yet another reason to keep those assassins away from my boat. Who knows what they'll do once I talk to another woman.

At this point, Atau felt like he was running out of options. Clearly, Tama had no interest in her mission, and had only come to make sure he wouldn't meet with any other women in her absence.

Finally, the admiral realized that talking would get him nowhere. Rather, he wasn't a good talker in the first place. Thus, he fell back onto the greatest weapon of any old sailor: stubbornness.

"Whatever you say," he just said, and crossed his arms. "So long as me and my men stand here, none of your people will get on my boats. And whatever you do, you won't get me to move from here until we set sail. So how about you just look for some replacements real quick, before you run out of time?"

This time, he was certain that he had won, if only by brute force. Surely now, the madwoman would compromise and pick a more reasonable entourage. Still, Tama retained her smug calm. More and more, an ominous feeling brewed in the old captain's stomach, something he had felt in the past just ahead of approaching storms.

"What a coincidence," Tama said, and stared at a place behind Atau. "It seems my replacement is here. So you have run out of time before me, my dear husband."

I don't like that smile. That's bad news.

Still, he wouldn't turn around, in case this was another of the woman's tricks. However, Tama continued, unconcerned by Atau's stern gaze.

"As I am the one who knows you best, dear husband, I knew you would be grumpy about leaving home. As you are right now, I have been proven right, once more. As a virtuous wife, I care deeply about my husband's well-being, and thus made sure to invite someone important in your life to see you off. This way, you would be able to let go and not be too homesick on our long journey. Please entertain your guest well."

A deadly premonition overcame Atau. All he could do was stammer out the first half of a question.

"Who did you-"

"Atau Sonco Saqartu!"

Finally, a familiar shout interrupted the admiral of the kingdom, and forced him to react. On reflex, Atau's entire body contracted in response to the sound, as if bracing for a beating. Only a second later, his brain caught back up to his body, and he immediately remembered who the voice belonged to. He frowned as he stared at Tama for another second, but she only returned a victorious, vicious grin. By then, Atau could hear the steps behind him close in already, so he had to turn around and face his fears.

"Mother, what are you doing here?" he asked, as he looked at the new arrival. Behind him stood Atau's mother, Lady Guanca Ogulno, and looked as furious as ever. Although he had a guilty conscience when he faced his mother these days, Atau tried to appear confident in his reply. Yet all the polite calm in the world couldn't stop the noble lady's anger.

"What do you think you are doing, abandoning your family like this?" Lady Guanca shouted, as she stepped through the line of ghosts on her way to her son.

"I'm just following the orders of the kingdom," a bitter Atau replied. He had really hoped he could get away without meeting his mother again. Yet now, he would once again be forced into the same, pointless arguments they had played through countless times already.

"Yes, yes.  The great Admiral Atau's precious kingdom," she shouted, and theatrically threw her hands around. "Why do you never care about your family as much as you care about this accursed kingdom?"

"I've done more for the family than you can imagine," Atau defended himself, yet it only earned him a derisive sneer.

"Hah, after you became the family patriarch, you have not been to our estate the once. Worse, you let those commoners from Saniya come take over our affairs in your stead. Will you not rest until that Pluritac steals all our lands?"

"What do I want with those in the first place?" Atau shot back the same argument as usual. Yet in response, his mother just stated the obvious.

"You are my son, and the heir to the family."

Even though her words were no more than platitudes, the Lady suddenly turned dead-serious, her eyes firmly fixed onto her son's. Maybe Atau had even felt a little guilty at the stern gaze if his upcoming journey hadn't reminded him of the past.

"Well, you thought differently when you sent me into exile so your precious Mayu could take over," he jogged his mother's memory.

"At least Mayu always puts his family first," the woman claimed, now both her face and her finger right in Atau's face. Even though she had to stand on her toes to approach her son's height, her presence still felt intimidating.

"And look how well he did with that," Atau said coldly, and took half a step back. He wouldn't be dragged into a shouting match, not in front of his men. "If I didn't make some compromises and show some indifference about the future of the estate, all our land would have been taken away ages ago. Do you even understand how much damage that selfish idiot Mayu has done to us?"

As she was about to lose the argument due to her useless traitor son, the furious Guanca suddenly sank to the ground and began to shout towards the sky.

"Don't insult your brother! He has suffered enough already, as has your poor, lonely mother! Her husband dead and father away, her brother killed by her ruthless king, one son in exile and the other indifferent to her plight. Whatever shall I do? If only my last remaining son could finally settle down, marry a wife and come back home, alas, who can release me from my torment?"

Finally, Atau's indifference broke. Panicked eyes looked back and forth between his mother and his sailors. He couldn't be too harsh with his mother, but every second she kept talking, it would further damage his reputation with his crew. Worse yet, wife candidate number one was standing by with a smug grin on her face, as she watched the carnage she had caused. No doubt, she was ready to jump in and offer her services to House Saqartu any second now.

"Fine, I apologize, mother," he finally gave in, and quickly helped his mother back onto her feet before she could make even more of a scene. "Now can we please go have a tea and talk somewhere in private, at least? We don't want others to think poorly House Saqartu's education, do we?"

Thus, a helpless Atau shepherded his mother off into the distance. At last, Lady Guanca followed obediently, though she never stopped complaining about her disloyal son.

__________________________

As soon as Atau had left, Tama showed a victorious grin. Maybe this way, the idiot sailor would remember his family, and finally reconcile with his mother before he regretted his selfishness. Now, with the obstacle out of the way, she turned towards the ghosts she had brought with her.

"Alright then, go distribute yourselves among the ships. If anyone tries to stop you, I will handle them."

Her last words, of course, were addressed over her shoulder, towards Atau's men. Not that any of them would have the gall to do anything.

Now that the captain of the fleet — and admiral of the navy — was gone, there was no one left with the authority to stop Tama. Finally, she would get her people on board the ships.

Of course, she could have also picked more officials or merchants, which would be a more traditional choice of entourage. However, Tama had the feeling she would need her ghosts with her. After all, when Corco had returned to Arguna, she had witnessed first-hand how a new force had suddenly appeared and caused chaos and death in an established system. She was unwilling to go through such an ordeal on her own. No, even if their mission failed, she would make sure that both she and her future husband would survive. Even without a title, she could still live a fulfilling life. But without life, all titles would be empty.

As for the eventuality that Atau may kick her men off his ships again after his return? They weren't called ghost warriors for nothing. In a large and complex structure like a ship, a captain and his crew had no chance of finding them on short notice.

After her appointment to this mission she had made a vow to herself: She would get that idiot Atau back safe and happy, no matter the cost.

Hermit's Notes: Took a lot longer to finish this one than I thought. I wanted to get the weird dynamic between these two just right, so I spent some extra days tweeking the almost finished chapter while I did other stuff. 

Not sure I'll be able to finish the other two chapters by tomorrow (both of which I've done a good bit of work on already), but I'll do my best.

Chapter 510 - To Give the People What They Want

"We can never forget our core strategic goal, which is to reunify the empire, and lead the Yaku people to glorious prosperity," Corco continued to brainwash the members of his privy council. "But to achieve such lofty goals, we will have to do more than just overpower the armies of my brothers. The Chutwa scholars have been involved with Amautu for a long time already. Now that the northern kingdom has been destabilized, who knows if they will use it as an excuse to send Chutwa troops in support of the northern kingdom. Chutwa's slave vassals in the north might want a piece of the Twin Isles as well. I hear those scholars are shopping around foreign countries to find a wife and ally for my middle brother. And who knows if the Arcavians will stay honest once the Yaku once more start fighting each other. Maybe they'll see it as another chance to jump in, a chance for redemption. I mean, they do have a history of working with my good uncle Pacha. And there might be even more foreign forces eager to get involved in our isles. Some of them, we may not even have in our sights yet. Since we haven't paid much attention to the outside so far, there is no way for us to know. Our international relations will continue to get more complex, and our standing with our neighbors, and even distant nations, will become much more vital to our strategic goals in the future. So I understand as well as you that we will need to find someone dedicated to the role of foreign minster. But that appointment cannot be a sloppy choice. It's too important of a role to simply hand out to someone who's loyal, or popular. I've been careful to pick the right candidate, but my candidate will still need more time to grow, and to convince everyone not only in this room, but also abroad. So until that someone is ready to take on responsibility, can I ask you — my most trusted supporters — for your help just a bit longer?"

Finally, after a long speech about the country's future, Corco came back to begging Brym and the others for their help. In the end, all he wanted was for the current departments to take on extra work, to help him handle international relations. Luckily, all that breath hadn't been used up for nothing.

"Of course, your majesty," Asiro was the first to stand up in support, though maybe because the minister of industry would be the last to be called upon when it came to foreign relations.

"House Queru is willing to take on the additional responsibility," Huaman followed immediately after, the lord not willing to be outdone by a commoner.

"House Makipura is the same. Our connections in the central kingdom are second to none," Lord Makipura added, to increase the profile of his house.

In the end, all the public pressure and Corco's fancy speech also managed to convince the king's little brother.

"I understand the necessity and importance of these duties, and will try to make extra time for them in the near future," Brym finally said, before he hesitated for a second and added: "Still, I am hardly suitable for work like this. It might be prudent to find a replacement sooner, rather than later."

In the face of Brym's repeated complaints, Corco knew that he had to present something more concrete to the crowd. He couldn't just keep them working for free indefinitely based on a few words alone. Luckily, the king had long prepared a solution to their foreign ministry problem.

"That's fine. I already have the perfect candidate ready to relieve you of your duties. I think it's time for a new appointment to this council, and a new direction for the kingdom." Corco turned towards a man who was sitting near the other end of the table, before he addressed him. "Admiral Atau."

"Present," Atau almost shouted. All throughout the meeting, he had lazily leaned into his seat. Only when the topic came to beating up his brothers in the northern kingdoms had he shown any kind of enthusiasm. Yet now that he expected a new appointment, the admiral of the kingdom half jumped out of his chair from excitement. It was an unusual reaction from a man who had never been eager for power. However, Corco knew why his cousin had such a strong response, and he intended to make full use of it.

"You say the situation in the west is stable, right?" Corco first confirmed his admiral's previous report from earlier in the meeting.

"Very stable, yes," an eager Atau nodded like a bobble head, much to Corco's amusement.

"In that case, would it be possible to leave your work to a stewart, while guaranteeing our continued success in the Verduic War?" he continued to ask, even though he already knew that Atau would make it possible even if it wasn't.

"Of course," the predictable admiral replied without thinking. "Captain Ivo can perfectly handle the work in my stead. He already does, whenever I'm dragged to one of these meetings. By now we're just going from island to island anyways, slowly clearing out the pirates one hidden cove at a time. Ever since our strategy's been set and your little privateers have flooded into the Verdant Isles, there's been no real threat of a comeback for the pirates. To keep it simple, they no longer have the space to operate as they did before. By now, if they fight back harder, they'll just lose faster, even when I'm not around."

"And as always, Rasacopa will cooperate as well," Sumaci added. "In any case, most of the fleet's logistics have been handled by the Green Court already."

Corco had almost forgotten, but his own wife used to be a well-respected captain herself. Though of course, he always remembered that she was also the queen of the Green Island.

"In that case, Queen Sumaci will coordinate the overall strategy of our war in the Verduic Sea — together with General Paec in Rasacopa who will be responsible for defensive operations on land — while the daily operations of the fleet will be handled by Captain Ivo in the absence of Admiral Atau," Corco concluded the new appointments, though it felt a bit redundant.

After all, these newly determined appointments simply mirrored the way the operations in the east had been handled all this time. Out of concern for her home, Sumaci was always eager to get involved in the decisions in the first place. Not to mention that legally, the Verduic Sea was the jurisdiction of the Green Island more than it was the jurisdiction of southern Medala.

Beyond that, it was a given that the highest ranking army officer would be in charge of land operations, while the highest ranking naval officer would be in charge of the navy. All Corco had done was make the current modus operandi official, and replace Atau with Ivo as the head of the navy. Still, it was better to make everything official, before some confusion or wrangling over authorities delayed the outcome of the war.

"Understood. I will note it down," Fadelio replied to conclude the topic. Of course, it was no longer necessary for the Prime Minister to note down anything, now that they had a minute keeper present at all times. Even so, Fadelio wouldn't let go of his trusty notes.

"And what do I get to do instead?" Atau interrupted the orderly proceedings. He clearly couldn't wait to ask about his newest appointment, evidenced by the slight tremble of excitement in his voice and the broad smile on his face.

"I remember the only admiral of this kingdom — who bears heavy responsibilities to match the prestige of his position — has been pestering his king for a long time. You've been asking me for an extended vacation, so you can freely sail the world and explore unknown waters again, isn't that right?" Corco explained as a smile crept on his face to match his cousin's.

For years, Atau had been forced to stay and command Saniya's navy, since the kingdom had been locked in a seemingly endless naval battle with the Colored Kings. All this time, the admiral of the kingdom had done his duties, rather than follow his own wishes. After all, Atau had never been interested in titles or power. All he had ever wanted to do was drink, flirt, and travel the world.

Though his more recent, more urgent desire to leave was probably also due to his mother Guanca, who incessantly tried to have him take over the business his family's estate, now that Atau was officially the lord of Puscanacra. Of course, the main reason for the urgent departure was still to run away from Tama, before she could force the playboy into a shotgun wedding.

"Yes, that's right," Atau once again confirmed his desires. "I would love to take on this new challenge, to improve the kingdom's relations in foreign lands."

He probably didn't even care about the appointment of foreign minister, so long as he could leave the kingdom and have some fun abroad. Of course, someone had to ruin the harmonious atmosphere, as always.

"I would like it put on record that the prime minister considers such an abandonment of one's duties irresponsible," Fadelio said, more towards the minute keeper in the back than towards Atau.

"Then I would like it written down that the prime minister is an emotionless stone with no joy in his life," Atau shot back.

"Okay, can we stop bothering the minute keeper for once?" Corco stepped in before these two took their rivalry too far again. Once more, he asked his cousin: "Do you want to go or not?"

"Of course, I'd love nothing more!"

"Then you'll start from Port Ulta, and you'll travel across the Weltalic Sea. First north to the Bronze Coast, then east to Shimoa and Arcavia. Use your connections in those places to gain some allies for us. As I look at the countries around us, I only see enemies, or potential enemies. I want you to change that. At the very least, we need to keep our enemies in our east occupied, as we deal with those in the north and west. Can you do that for me?"

Faced with the sudden responsibility beyond a simple pleasure cruise, Atau suddenly looked a bit hesitant.

"I mean, I do know some people, but I'm not exactly a diplomat, you know?" he said quietly, and stared at Corco from the corner of his eyes. Maybe he was gathering the courage to agree to the appointment, or maybe he was waiting for Corco to assign him some assistants who would do all the actual work for him. However, before he could actually go through with whatever plan he had, the king quickly moved along with his own.

"Not a problem at all. As I've said, I already have a candidate ready to handle our international relations from now on," he said, before he shouted towards the room's entrance: "Tamaya, please come in!"

As the door opened and the elegant lady with the curled, brown hair stepped into the room, a low murmur arose around the table. Everyone seemed to have something to say about the imminent appointment. The only ones who weren't talking were Fadelio and Atau, both of whom were paralyzed from shock. Tama, meanwhile, seemed completely unfazed by the attention, as she calmly walked past the crowd and came to a stop next to Corco, who eagerly introduced her to his privy council.

"Now then, most here should be familiar with Tamaya di Pluritac. For those who aren't, she's the eldest daughter of the late General Atoc di Pluritac, and is the current coordinator of the ghost warrior operations within the kingdom," the king explained. "For this journey, Tamaya will accompany Admiral Atau's fleet, in the function of the kingdom's chief diplomatic envoy. Should she have proven her abilities in negotiations with foreign powers by the time of her return, she will be appointed as the kingdom's foreign minister."

After Corco's introduction, the crowd was eager to congratulate the new minister-to-be. After all, her status as a daughter of the emperor's former confidante was sufficient to convince even the stiff nobles of her suitability for an advanced role. Her family had a long history of serving Medala's emperor in similar functions, after all. Not to mention, no one wanted to offend the leader of the terrifying ghost warriors for no reason. In the entire room, only two people remained silent from start to finish: Atau and Fadelio.

While Tama watched Atau with a sly grin on her face, both Atau and Fadelio only looked at Corco with accusation written all over their faces. The king, meanwhile, was eager to claim innocence. After all, he had given both of them exactly what they had wanted: An overseas position for Tama, and some time away for Atau. With this, surely, all parties would be happy.

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Annual Budget Meeting (Year-End Summary)

Name: Kingdom of South Medala

Year: 8th Strife

Population: 4.48m (+4.0%)

-----Royal Territory: 1.78m

Verdant Isles (all controlled territories): ~7m

Green Island: 3.24m

Income: 88.2m Sila

-----Seignorage: 12.0m Sila

-----Grain and agriculture: 33.2m Sila

-----Direct trade from government businesses: 19.3m Sila

-----Tariffs: 8.6m Sila

-----Other: 15.1m Sila (bond sales in the south and eastern Medala)

Treasury: 44.17m Sila

Precious Metal Reserves: 64.5m Sila

Debt Ratio: ~74%

Standing Troops: 12k commoners

-----Reserves: 20k commoners, 16k warriors

Steel Production: 760 tons

Farmland: 370.000 hectares

Yield: 0.72 tons per hectare

Literacy Rate: 17%

Hermit's Notes:

New Numbers! Total Income is down, because there were a lot fewer one-time sales (bonds and manufactories) compared to the previous year. However, since actual, yearly income is way up, the debt ratio has pretty much stabilized, despite increasing the debt by another 15mil. The increase in income comes mainly from extra trade income, mostly due to the end of wars and resumption of trade, the reopening of Amautu's northern kingdom to the Wonders of the World shops, as well as the new trade connections to Chutwa, including the new porcelain smuggling plan.

I think the other numbers are pretty self-explanatory, unless something looks weird, in which case, please do ask away.

Also, I've already mostly finished the next chapter already, so I might be able to upload that one tomorrow. Less talking, more action from here on (which will be my general mantra for Book 8, unless I change my mind completely and replan everything)!

Chapoter 509 - Official Meeting (Start of Book 8)

Much had changed since last year's year-end review, which had now officially been renamed to 'Annual Budget Meeting', mostly because Corco thought it sounded more official.

For the first time, the meeting no longer took place in the king's study, with all the members of the privy council crowded together along the walls. Instead, the council was meeting in Rapra Castle's new large meeting room, a dedicated space for important government meetings.

The room itself was longer than it was wide, large enough to accommodate at least thirty people, and was dominated by a giant, elliptical table in its center. At one end of the table stood a large, ornate chair reserved for the king, flanked on either side by two more chairs reserved for the queen and prime minister, respectively. The table's sides were also lined with further chairs, one for each department of the kingdom, as well as another two for the heads of the army and navy, with enough room left to add more later, depending on necessity.

Along the edges of the room, behind each chair, small alcoves with more chairs and desks were set into the walls. The insides could be manned by minute keepers who would take a written record of the meeting for each department. Although for now, most departments still hadn't brought anyone due to a lack of manpower, such conveniences were prepared in advance. Even if the departments wouldn't take advantage of the amenities, at least the seat behind the king was always occupied, to create a record for the kingdom's archives.

To guarantee optimal lighting at any time, a bright oil lamp above every chair, even those in the alcoves. Even the position of the room within the castle itself had been carefully picked. The new meeting room was close to the castle's archives, in case someone needed to look up some crucial information mid-meeting.

All in all, this new location had a much more proper and official feeling than Corco's study in the past.

In keeping with this new, more official setup, the attendance of the meeting was more complete than it had ever been. This time, every single department representative had arrived on time and in person. Not only had Lord Huaman returned from his travels around the southern kingdom, but even the elusive Brym had finally returned from his long trip through the northern kingdoms — and his subsequent extended holiday with his new wife Inti.

"For now, Scholarly Court remains cautious. Before they become bold again and start checking our actions once more, we will continue to make good use of their timidity," Brym summarized the current state of their actions in the northern kingdom. "As we were distributing some goods and people in the north this year, we received adequate help from the local nobles, as stated before. However, some of them have already made demands about the future, in anticipation of a southern victory. Not only do I have to suspect that they are playing both sides, they are also making demands on territory and authority which I am not qualified to handle, neither as the Minister of Finance nor in my function as the Wonders of the World's vice-president."

"Yes, yes. I get it," an annoyed Corco cut off the minister's whining. Brym had more than once complained about his work in the north, even though he had volunteered for it.

According to the man himself, he had been forced to take on work that no one else had been willing to do, even though such work would have otherwise been the duty of a foreign minister. However, there was nothing Corco could do. At least until he had a proper minister appointed, someone had to do the job, and the king himself could hardly just travel around in enemy territory. Since he had heard similar complaints from his little brother many times before, Corco was routinely dismissive.

However, before he could make any more sarcastic comments, a cough from the side reminded the king of his position. Although he gave Fadelio a dirty look for interrupting an oncoming rant, he knew that his attendant was right. They had finally managed to make this budget meeting look official, with a proper setup and everyone present for once. This really wasn't the place to be sloppy and treat his finance minister like a little brother. Instead, Corco would have to do things by the book, and follow the pre-determined order of things.

Such strict etiquette was something Corco despised, even though he understood that formality became necessary as the kingdom grew in scope and ambition. Luckily, he had shown no other lapses so far, and the meeting was almost over by now.

At this point, all departments had already presented a summary for their work over the past year, and they had also shown off their plans and their expected budget for the next one. Such summaries would become a standard item on the agenda of every budget meeting from now on, as it became increasingly formalized. In fact, this time, this part of the meeting had been handled very quickly compared to previous years. After all, most of the work in the various departments was simply a continuation of long-established policies.

The ministry of health was still busy consolidating all the results from their new hospital. They wouldn't have to do anything new or ambitious for years, at least not unless there was another emergency like a sudden plague. Beyond that, they could only wait for more doctors to finish their training before they could even consider more hospitals in other parts of the country. Until then, they would simply continue to steadily advance their research and improve their reputation in the population with the resources they had.

Meanwhile, the ministries of infrastructure and agriculture were still busy with the integration of the new territories. Until all the roads and beacon towers had been built, until all the new migrants had been settled, and until all the villages had been reorganized, both ministries had no operational capacity for extra work. The same was true for the ministry of the interior, which was still struggling with the influx of migrants and the constant threat of spies, as well as their plans to expand the role of the police force into the new royal territories.

At the same time, the war in the west was still steadily progressing as planned, which kept the navy busy. While the army reforms were finally coming to an end, there was no land war anywhere on the horizon, so they didn't have any great plans either. Even the ministry of finance, which had been so enthusiastically raising money over the past few years, was now mostly trying to manage and consolidate the growing financial market of Saniya, as well as regulate the new stock exchange as problems arose.

After all, Brym and his officials had sold an exorbitant amount of bonds over the past two years. By now, the government had more than enough money to continue the running projects, and limited wiggle room to take on any more debt. Luckily, the bonds wouldn't start to generate returns for their holders until five years after their sale, so they had plenty of time to grow their income before they had to set aside part of it for debt repayment.

Only the Ministry of Industry had shown up with some impressive results over the past year, as well as more ambitious plans for the next. First of all, the new worker cooperatives were quickly spreading in the capital, inspired by the success of early adopters. As more and more migrant craftsmen arrived from the north — and as many soldiers left the army and had to start looking for new work — these new styles of company organization continued to replace the old-school workshops. By now, similar ideas had spread to surrounding cities like Harkay. At this point, some laws to regulate the management of these new types of manufactory had become necessary, as friction with established businesses and abuse of government policies were already being reported. Such laws had to be carefully considered, so their penning and implementation would take a long time.

On top of that, and most importantly, the kingdom's steel mill was finally running at full capacity. Due to a lack of high-quality coal, the mill had only been running for a few days at a time, followed each time by days of inactivity. This had been the case ever since its construction, and had been caused by the southern kingdom's lack of good coal. With the ever-increasing size of the kingdom's industry, the manufactories had experienced a severe lack of iron and steel, which had begun to drive up the price of both and had threatened to slow down the kingdom's economic development. Even though the current mill should have been able to meet demand based on its size, the lack of coal had been a constant threat to their continued progress.

Now however, with the progress in the western war, the new trade routes to the Chutwa Empire were properly established. Together with the improved finances of the kingdom, they could now import enough coal from the west to run the steel mill around the clock, which had greatly improved their iron and steel output. In anticipation of the new coal mines on Rasacopa, Minister Asiro had even planned to build a second steel mill. The new mill was planned to be even larger than the first and would secure the country's industrial demand for years to come.

Though even such grand plans were nothing more than a slight adjustment, meant to right the country's predetermined course. All in all, the country's path had been largely set years ago, and now most of the departments were fully occupied by their mere attempts to keep up with the country's growth. Thus, since the inside of the country had finally been stabilized after the horrors of the civil war, Corco felt like it was time to look outside the country for future progress.

There was only one problem, which finally brought the king back from his thoughts and back to the meeting room, where Brym still stood at his seat, waiting for an answer.

"I know you're not normally responsible for foreign matters, Minister Brymstock," Corco finally replied to Brym's complaint after a prolonged silence. This time, he took care to sound more formal. "But until now, I still didn't find anyone else who could take over such an important task. As a temporary fix, I've tried to distribute the responsibility among several of the kingdom's most trusted servants."

Although it was a cheap compliment, Brym still struggled to keep a straight face against an oncoming grin. As he watched his little brother's familiar expression, Corco himself stifled a smile and moved on.

"So far, that strategy of distributing the tasks to capable people has been good enough for our purposes," the king explained. "It didn't hurt that most of our foreign affairs have been with Arcavia, the Verdant Isles, and Chutwa alone. Many here have spent a long time in Arcavia, so they have no problem negotiating with people from there. For the other two places, Sumaci and my sister Yasimi in Hueatlan were all the support we needed. But now, our focus has shifted. As the Verdant Isles have become part of our dual kingdom, and we've established a firm presence in eastern Chutwa, we will need to spend more time on those false kingdoms my brothers have established in the north. Since our internal position has stabilized now, we will have to move north someday soon, to reunite the Yaku people under one banner and reforge the empire's silver crown, which has been torn apart by my greedy brothers."

As he looked around the room, Corco could see the excited faces of his council react to his speech with fervor. After all, many of them had been there when his brothers had conspired with the forces of the capital to steal his father's crown. As for the rest, most of them were southerners, who had a long-standing feud with the northerners and were eager for revenge ever since the last civil war some thirty-five years ago. Among the crowd, only Doctor Itzali looked indifferent, but Corco didn't expect him to do any more work outside the country anyways. At least not ever since the doctor had been involved in an assassination plot against his will last time.

Though apart from Itzali, the king's words had had the desired effect on everyone else in the room. Now that everyone was brimming with patriotic fervor, it was time for the king to bring home his speech and convince everyone to take on some more extra work for free.

Chapter 508 - Felian Northdale, Looking For a Place to Stay (End of Book 7)

Back and forth, back and forth.

With monotonous regularity, the brush scrubbed across the wooden planks of the ship's interior. Although the surface would soon be clean of all filth, a single, large wave would be enough to flood the port holes, which would render all previous work useless. It really was nothing more than busywork.

What a dull exercise.

His most recent task aboard this ship reminded Felian of the sword training in his youth, a mechanical repetition of simple motion, again and again, until someone told him to stop. Back then, just like now, he also hadn't understood the point of the exercises, and back then, just like now, he had also dutifully completed them. Though of course, those days of his youth were now long behind him.

"Hey, Pheya. You've done the same spot for a while. Be careful the bosun don't catch you." someone reminded Felian.

"Thank you," he responded, and returned a thankful smile on reflex. Behind him stood Kusi, a fellow sufferer aboard this ship, and a fellow traveler, at least until they reached the goal of their journey. Though of course, Felian didn't have the luxury to focus on the end of their journey. His main priority at the moment was to avoid a flogging, so he quickly adjusted his brush and continued his work in a different spot. However, his fellow traveler seemed less concerned with a flogging in their immediate future, and more with a scam in their distant one.

"Hey, do you really think the turtles will hand us our own land when we get there?"

"You keep asking that," Felian said, a dry remark which made Kusi visibly uncomfortable.

"I know, but I just can't help it. We did so much to get there. It can't be for nothing. You know everything, right? Why can't you know this, too?" Kusi argued.

His over-reliance reminded Felian of his old subordinates, a memory he would much rather forget. He didn't plan to serve a great master in the future, and he certainly didn't plan to take command over more helpless people who leaned on him for everything. Thus, he ignored the question and quietly got back to scrubbing. However, Kusi just wouldn't let go.

"So what is it? Do you think they'll give us land?"

"At this point, I'll be happy so long as we make it off this damned boat," Felian finally replied.

"Ain't that the truth," the verduic farmer said, before he finally returned to his own work in silence.

Relieved that the quiet rolling of the waves outside was once more only interrupted by the sound of his own work, Felian pushed his scrub forward with vigor. Eager to create extra space between himself and his fellow landsman, he ran before the farmer could find a new topic of conversation.

Still, his words weren't entirely spoken to silence his fellow scrubber. Rather, he really wasn't that attached to the idea of farming, and didn't care much if they got the land or not. In fact, any kind of calm and stable life would be just fine by him, no matter where it was. Arcavus knew that such a life was hard enough to find in these chaotic times. Though unlike his God, Felian had to learn such truth the hard way.

Back when he had left his post in Borna's expeditionary army, he had also given up his position as one of Duke Herak's knights. By that point, he had been fighting — and putting out fires — without pause for several years already. When he had set off from Iskay Island with his lonely boat, he had only wanted to find a quiet place on some lonely island, where he could calmly spend his days.

However, he soon realized that his snap decision had been too rash, and his goal too naive. For one, the Verdant Isles were still at war, even if he had abandoned his role in it. He couldn't just settle down on some random island if he had to fear an invasion from pirates or soldiers at any moment.

More importantly however, he couldn't settle down anywhere without an identity. At first, he had planned to live by himself, in the wilderness. At least those had been his thoughts when he deserted his army, as anything seemed better than his life at the time. Yet as soon as he calmed down, he remembered the jungles of the Verdant Isles, the hot, sticky weather, the endless water from all sides, the mosquitoes, bugs and snakes. Once reminded of the very reasons his life had been so miserable these years, he suddenly felt like living in such an environment wasn't a good retirement plan.

Instead, he aimed to find some small community to retire, maybe a rural village somewhere. Though this exactly was where his lack of identity became a problem. He couldn't just show up in some village and become one of the locals. The local kingdoms were stricter, more hierarchical societies than even those in Arcavia. They would never let some unknown man of dubious background join them, even less so a foreigner.

Though luckily, the troubled times provided him with a solution. In times of war, there were always displaced people, for better or for worse. All he had to do then was assume a new identity and join the stream of refugees. Of course, he couldn't do so as an Arcavian.

Luckily, his skin had already darkened from years of fighting in the tropical heat, and he had also learned the local language — at least somewhat — to communicate with their local allies. Thus, he simply grew out his beard to hide his facial features and pretended to be the only survivor from a tiny, isolated island which had been raided by pirates. It would explain his accent, as well as his lack of understanding about the local customs to some degree.

It took considerable effort and many detours, but in the end, Felian Northdale — under the new name of Pheya — managed to board a small vessel full of refugees in return for his sword and his family's bronze seal. After giving up all possessions from his old life, the boat finally led him to the city of Jurau on Rasacopa.

At last, he had arrived in a large city, and with a new identity as a local to boot. However, he had never entertained any intention of staying there. Just like the island of Iskay he had fled, Rasacopa was also mostly jungle. He had suffered enough under the heat of these damn islands for the rest of his life. So instead, he chose to move on, rather than settle down. Not to mention, now that he was one of the Verdant Folk, a fantastic offer was available to him, tough one which required a second trip across the ocean.

For some reason, the king of southern Medala, the merchant who got Felian into this mess in the first place, was offering free land to anyone who was willing to relocate from Rasacopa to the merchant's kingdom. Although it sounded like a scam to Felian — who knew that everything in life had a price — he did some further snooping and finally determined the offer to be genuine, at least according to the locals. Throughout his research, he had kept himself alive with daily odd jobs, earning his bread in the heat of the jungle by the sweat of his brow. By that point, he was more than ready to leave and never return.

Thus, he found a small group of farmers who had the same goal as him and mixed in with them, blending into the crowd to make his way back east. Although in their attempts to find a ship, they were rejected many times by many different crews — and only barely escaped a brawl in one of Jurau's most infamous taverns — they finally managed to find a ship willing to use them as free labor in return for passage. While the work was monotonous and hard, Felian would put up with anything, so long as the temperatures continued to drop along their course. Not to mention, at the end of the hard work, he would get exactly what he had wanted all this time.

After getting off the ship, he would officially be considered a former citizen of the Verdant Isles, who was now settling in Medala, a place where no one could confirm nor deny his fake identity. At that point, whether or not he took the land didn't even matter anymore. WIth a new identity, the world would open up for him, and he could finally plan the next phase of his life in peace.

"You hear me, boy!?"

A scream right next to Felian's ear broke him from his thoughts. When he looked over, he saw the bosun stare at him, his favorite flogging rod gripped tightly.

"Sorry, boss. I'll clean better," he said on reflex, and sped up the pace of his brush. However, the bosun ripped the brush right out of his hands instead.

"No, I'm saying we're about to land in Saniya. You're done. Get off my ship before I change my mind and beat you some more."

After another few seconds of confusion, Felian looked over to Kusi, who returned a nod and a look full of happiness. Finally, they had made it.

"Thank you, sire," an overjoyed Felian shouted. He didn't even notice the bosun's confusion at the strange way of address. Rather than worry about those he would never meet again, he ran over to one of the ship's gunports. From within the dingy lower deck of the ship, he spied through the tiny opening to get his first proper look at Saniya, the mystical city his master Herak had tried and failed to conquer for so long. Finally, he was here. One way or another, this was where he would restart his life.

-------------------------

When Felian first set foot inside Saniya, he liked the place straight away. The city was huge, no smaller than the greatest cities of Arcavia. Even more, it was clean, and vibrant. To the well-traveled knight, it looked like a place full of opportunities. Though before he could take advantage of any of them, Felian and the other farmers were sent to an official looking building full of official looking people, where they would receive the land they had been promised.

However, when they were presented with their new land deeds, Felian immediately realized that something was wrong. His fellow farmers were eager to accept the offer as soon as it was presented to them, all of them just happy to receive any land for free. Yet unlike them, Felian had studied the maps of southern Medala in the past. He knew that the land they were handed was in the deepest south-east of the king's lands. It was a land of ice and snow, with many hills and little fresh water. All in all, it was of dubious worth. If he remembered correctly, this was the absolutely worst farmland the king's officials could offer to them.

With a vain hope in his heart, Felian asked if they could not receive any other land, but the official only said that the extra effort was not worth his while, unless they wanted to 'support his efforts'. Apparently, the officials here were abusing their power to decide the land distribution based on the bribes they received.

Though Felian was willing to pay a bit more for good land — especially since he was about to get it for free — he had given away the last of his possessions just to get here. Neither he, nor any of the other destitute farmers had the means to bribe their way into better property. In the end, the others still accepted the poor offer, despite their misgivings. Without any practical skills besides farming and worried for their futures, they didn't have another choice. Felian, meanwhile, felt swindled and unhappy — and more confident in his abilities to survive anywhere. Thus, he left the office without any land to his name.

As far as he was concerned, staying in Saniya was much better than a plot of farmland on a glacier anyways. If nothing else, there was plenty of work here, and plenty of directions to go in. In a place so full of opportunity, Felian had a hard time deciding what he wanted to do. This was where he planned to stay, at least for a while, as he tried to determine where his future would lead him.

Yet soon, he realized that his vision for the future had once again been too rosy. As he worked more odd-jobs and began to gather information again — this time in an attempt to find more permanent work — he soon discovered how bizarrely hostile Saniya was towards outsiders. This was doubly strange since most of the locals had moved here not long ago themselves. However, all of these first-generation immigrants had more than one reason to exclude outsiders.

For one, many of them — the ones who called themselves locals — had been here since before the lightning miracle. On the day of the miracle, many of them organized or spontaneously joined in the rebellion which killed a grand noble of Medala and started the lightning war. Since then, the local population was particularly close-knit, but was also more wary towards newcomers. That had become doubly true since the end of the war, when the city had been troubled by an influx of poor refugees from the defeated noble houses for a while.

Ever since then, these two groups, locals and newcomers, were suspicious of each other, and of anyone else who wanted to join this great, big city. Though the war was not the only reason for the local distrust of foreigners.

Apparently, there had also been a lot of spying incidents throughout Saniya's short history, which resulted in a general atmosphere of suspicion towards unknown faces. That counted especially for Felian, who was considered Verdant Folk, many of whom were still fighting Saniya's army in the western sea. To be frank, most of the spies — and even assassins — had been sent by Borna and its allies, so the bornish knight felt he had no right to complain about his exclusion.

On top of that, Felian also didn't have a registered entry of identity at the local archive, something all the locals had. Had he accepted the land back then, he would have been added upon arrival on his new farm. Now however, he once again lacked the identity he craved so much.

Without such an entry, he couldn't find any permanent employment, nor could he join one of the new work cooperatives. Worst, he could not visit many important places in the city either, many of which were important for gathering information. The newly opened public library attached to the university, or the public schools, for example, were great places of knowledge, which every citizen could visit for free. Meanwhile, unregistered aliens like himself could only take advantage of the city's extensive police system.

After his third visit to the police station to prove his innocence over some 'anonymous tip' from a local, Felian finally realized that he wouldn't find peace in this city, no matter how great it was. However, just as he was starting to feel desperate, rudderless and without a goal, a new way out presented itself once more, as if by divine providence. Bizarrely, this way out led him almost back to his starting point, back to the edge of the central kingdom.

Apart from the king's offer of land for immigrants, several other southern nobles were also trying to attract farmers. Apparently, many local peasants had fled their lands during the last war, and these lords now needed replacements to work their fields. In most cases, their offer was little more than a contract of slavery, offered only to the poorest and most desperate in the city. However, Lord Makipura's offer, in particular, was different, for various reasons.

First off, this Lord Makipura was the country's minister of agriculture, responsible for all the farming in the kingdom. Thus, he needed to show initiative on the implementation of the country's new agricultural innovations. As a result, many methods on farming organization from the king's lands were directly adopted in Makipura's territory.

Not only that, the lord's estate of Tacicir was also the only region of the southern kingdom which lay north of the Narrows. Not only was the northern culture different from that in the south, which made the territory less attractive for southern settlers. It was also the only southern kingdom territory to share direct borders with the central kingdom, an enemy nation. Many would be worried that another war could break out soon, and that their new lands would become a front line. Thus hemmed in by circumstance, in order to attract any new farmers at all, Makipura's offer was very generous, no worse than the king's. Not only could newcomers receive free land without the need to become the king's servant, they would even be granted one of the elusive identity entries upon arrival.

Even so, most locals weren't eager to take the offer, and chose to stay away from a potential battlefield. Instead, they preferred to move to the Verdant Isles in search of free land.

However, the offer attracted Felian, and the reluctance of the locals suited him just fine. Unlike the rabble, he knew about the state of the central kingdom. The land had been wrought with internal struggles even before the last war, which had further depleted its might. Felian knew that they were in no condition to start another war anytime soon. Even if they did, without support from Arcavia, the central kingdom was hardly a threat, stuck in a poor strategic position and faced with the powerful southern armies.

Thus, he wouldn't have to worry about foreign armies trampling his crops. All he had to content with on the border would be some bandits or wild animals, at worst. Yet Felian himself was still a knight. Even without a sword, what he feared the least were rabble and beasts. Not to mention, the temperate northern climate would suit him much better, for it reminded him of his distant home.

Thus, without any further hesitation, Felian once more embarked upon a long journey, this time to the north-east across the entire length of Sachay. At this journey's end, he would finally find a place to call his own, a place where he could forget about the violence of the world, or so he hoped.

Hermit's Notes: A repost of sorts. I finally figured out where to put this chapter. I think it works fine as an epilogue of Book 7, even though it screws up the structure of the book a little. However, the originally planned epilogue (another one of Corco's meetings) thematically didn't fit with the book at all, and works much better as a prologue for Book 8, which is why I arranged it that way.

I'll keep the extra chapter version of this up for a bit longer since just deleting it seems too abrupt. Will delete it once this one becomes available for the 5$ tier (the lowest tier which could read this as a bonus).

Oh, also, I'm a bit late with my uploads again, because starting a new book always takes a bit of extra sorting and research. Sorry about that.

Chapter 507 - A Table's Tale (Part 2)

Again, the table had been moved, though this time with far more care. Not only had no new damage been added to it in the meantime, all previous surface damage had been worked out completely. On top of that, the precious wood had been covered in a protective coating, which further hid the blemishes. Incidentally, the coating also sealed up the mechanisms which would release the hidden compartments within, which created another layer of protection.

Not only had its previous blemishes been treated, the table was also no longer by itself. Surrounded by many compatriots of similar make, it had been placed in a dark and dry room, which would protect them from the harsh, salty air outside. If the table had had any feelings, it would have felt very happy at the care which had been put into it, and at the new-found companionship. The table, of course, could feel no such things. Neither could it feel annoyance over the fact that once again, two people were talking about it in the third person, despite its presence.

"So just this then? You got nothing else stashed in another warehouse?"

"Yes, Captain Sami. The cargo in question is these desks, fifty all in all. The delivery needs to be swift, straight north, with no detours and no port visits on the way. Then up the Argu River. No need to worry, we have already arranged for safe passage along the way, so no one will check your ships in Huaylas. Once you reach the port of Rhodanos, people of the local Wonders of the World shop will be ready to receive you. As this is important cargo, we will also provide you with one half of a seal. Please make sure that those waiting for you in Rhodanos own the other half of the seal before you complete the delivery."

"That's fine and all, and I don't mind using your seal and whatnot. But your expected course is a bit of a problem for me. You see, we usually run the route in reverse, from Saniya to Hueatlan and then to Challwala and back south, because profits are better that way. There's nothing in the north that anyone in the south would want. So what would I even do up there if I have nothing to sell? Why would I run the route in reverse for you when I could do better the other way 'round?"

"We at the Wonders of the World were told that you were one of the most reliable merchants in Saniya. That was the reason we offered you this business in the first place. Most merchants would love to establish a relationship with us."

"No need to get upset. I never said I won't do it. I just said that doing it will cost you extra."

"That was not what we agreed on."

"We haven't agreed on anything yet. And anything we said beforehand was said before I knew about your route, or your suspicious cargo."

"I have no idea what you are trying to say. The Wonders of the World shop is an entirely above-board business, and we would never do anything 'suspicious'. Though if all you wish to do is insult me and my employers, I better leave now. I would be curious what the president would have to say about this."

"Wait, friend. No need to get nervous. It's not like this is the first time I've carried hot cargo. We do it all the time. I also don't care what's so special about these tables of yours. Once I take the job, I won't ask any further questions, and I will do exactly as I'm told. All I care about is the payment. If I spend my time on this, you will have to make it worth my while, I hope you can understand that. And don't try to pay me with 'reputation' or 'connections' again, not until I can buy bread with them."

"If you insist on a raised price, Captain Sami, I may have no choice but to look for other ships. There are plenty of merchants who would love to be friends with the Wonders of the World."

"Are you trying to threaten me? But threatening is my thing."

"We would never threaten anyone. We will simply look for the most competitive offer in the market."

"In that case, I guess I have to spread word about what you're doing here."

"What!? You-"

"You're not doing anything illegal anyways, right?"

"...I thought you did not want to take the order."

"No, I just wanted to be paid well for it. Now that I know you're so bothered by this, I think we can negotiate a good price."

"Maybe we should go to the police with this instead."

"And say what, that I wouldn't smuggle your illegal cargo unless you pay me? Sure, let's blow this whole thing out of proportion, let the entire city hear about it. I don't mind."

"You-"

"And if you're planning to resolve this in some kind of gray way — like hiring some goons to deal with me in the middle of the night or attempt to steal the cargo back — I'd like to remind you that I sail under the 'Bloody Admiral' Chanca, who works for Ekkoko. Even this warehouse here belongs to him. Isn't that the real reason you found me for this job, rather than some older captain with more experience or prestige? Isn't it just 'cause our fleet can protect the hot cargo, and won't steal it in turn? So what do you think? Will a gang war go well for you? Or maybe I should just tell Chanca about the big score hidden inside these tables and have him hunt down whoever you hire next. What do you think?"

"...actually, I came here specifically because I was told that Captain Sami was more reasonable than his partner Chanca."

"I'm being very reasonable. Chanca would have already taken apart your tables to look inside, at the very least. And maybe he'd have done the same with your head, at the very most. So what'll it be, my reasonable friend? A good deal for both of us, or trouble only for you?"

"Fine, we can renegotiate the transport fee. But remember that this could become be a repeat deal, so don't go too far."

"See, I told you threatening was my thing."

Not long after, the table and its companions left the darkness of the warehouse, to embark on the last leg of their journey.

__________________________

For the first time since its construction, the table went on a long journey. Together with its forty-nine companions, it was loaded into a dark cargo hold aboard Captain Sami's flagship 'Suyana'. For several days, they traveled across rough seas, ever further towards the warm waters of the north. Had the table had a stomach, it would have surely been sea sick by that point.

At the Argu Delta, they turned east, and continued to travel inland towards Arguna. They passed Huaylas and the Eye Lake without incident. At this point, most ships would continue on to Medala's capital, which was still the richest city in the empire, despite best efforts from the people of Saniya. However, the Suyana ended up landing at the less conspicuous and often forgotten port of Rhodanos.

From there, all tables were unloaded and handed to the waiting employees of the local Wonders of the World shop. Unfortunately, there were far too many tables for the local employees to handle. Thus, the prototype table was handled by men who were much better at sales than they were at transportation.

"Careful with this, Titu. If we drop it there'll be trouble"

"Why are we the ones carrying these things anyways? Don't we have hired people for exactly such a purpose? Why are we wasting revenue on them if they don't even do such simple work for us?"

"Don't tell me you don't know how important this delivery is. Didn't you read the order form they sent from Saniya?"

"Of course I didn't read it. You know-"

"Yes, yes. The great Titu only reads messages from important people."

"At last, you have said something good."

"I was quoting you. And this is more important than anything else. The delivery was directly ordered by Vice-president Brymstock himself."

"What, the boss sent it!? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I told you to several times read the order. I guess you were too busy at Lord Gratidia's banquets to deal with the store."

"Wait, that's why you dragged me here? I thought you just didn't like me."

"Since it's an important delivery arranged by the vice-president personally, I thought we should handle it ourselves, in case something goes wrong. And if only one of us is there, it'll reflect poorly on the store. Be happy that I'm not a politician like you."

"...so why would Lord Brymstock care about some routine delivery of tables? We get these all the time."

"Well, this time, we're getting a lot more than usual, and they're coming directly from Saniya. Also, they will only stay with us for a short while. We are supposed to send all of them over to various shops all over the northern kingdom. I don't know much more, but it all feels terribly important. Didn't you notice our recent test runs?"

"...I may have been busy with-"

"Yes, yes, I know. You're a busy man. Keep going like that and you can't complain if I get promoted before you."

"So what about those test runs?"

"I've been tasked with sending tables like these around the surrounding estates, to document the reaction from the locals."

"And?"

"Our scholarly friends let every delivery pass without any proper inspection. They might still be spooked from the last series of incidents. So whatever we're delivering this time, it's no doubt our friends won't stop us, even if it's something big."

"So you're saying these tables are different somehow? Do you think they contain-"

"Shhh. Yes, I agree. These are just more 'hidden beacon shrine' tables, nothing more. It's just a routine delivery, understood?"

"...maybe for once, I should stop talking and concentrate on my work."

"Good idea. Move your feet."

__________________________

At the end of its journey, the table finally returned from whence it came: a forest. However, it would have had no time to enjoy the serenity of nature, even if it had been able to enjoy anything. Instead, its carriers simply dropped it and several others like it down where they stood, shouted "Delivery!" into the forest and ran as fast as they could.

Soon after, the inhabitants of the forest appeared and carried the table deeper inside, towards the lights and the noise. Hidden deep inside the forest, far off from any roads, a large camp of bandits had been established. Though it was called a camp even by its inhabitants, it looked more like a village. Permanent houses made from wood ringed a forest clearing, and traps and simple fences had been erected all around for protection. Even more, the bandits within the camp weren't the usual fare of starving, male serfs who had escaped their masters in search of survival. Instead, they all looked well-fed and capable. There were even women and children present.

Apparently, they had something to celebrate, beyond their excellent health, since they had gathered around a bonfire to eat, drink, and sing. The table, of course, remained indifferent to the festivities, as did the two bandits who were carrying it. After they had declined a drink from a passing bandit, they carried the table into the largest hut in the camp.

Once inside, its inhabitant asked the carriers a few questions, before he ordered them to let down the table on the spot. The two did as they were asked, and put down the table upside down, with its head on the earth and its legs in the air.

Luckily, it had no sense of balance, or it would have suffered from nausea once more. At last, the man who had been determined as its recipient from the very start came towards it. He twisted open the painted seal on one of the legs, and it was good that the table couldn't feel anything, since not only was its leg ripped open, but a sharp bayonet was also removed from its insides.

Unconcerned with the table's feelings, Latrus, master of the largest band of bandits in Medala, held aloft his new weapon as it glistened in the light of the bonfire which illuminated the room.

This size steel was enough to make a solid, improvised spear. All they had to do was attach a handle and they would have a weapon good enough to use even in war. Of course, a single blade would never be enough to fight on such a scale. Inside this one table, Latrus would find another nine like it, as well as parts for two whole flintlock rifles, ready for assembly.

"Finally, our weapons order has arrived. Once again, Brym remains a man of his word."

For a moment, he admired the craftsmanship in his hands, before he remembered what these blades stood for, and what they foretold.

"You best stay sharp boys," he shouted towards the men who had carried the table here. "Someday soon, once these tables are everywhere in the north, something big is going to happen. Go out and enjoy the bonfire. Our days as bandits might be numbered."

Hermit's Notes: Last part of the table saga, in which all the strands from Book 7 come together. There'll be another (one or two) Corco chapters, until we move into book 8.

Chapter 506 - A Table's Tale

At the back entrance of the TaSa manufactory, in a yard meant to store goods before transportation, stood a newly produced table. Four legs and a top. A table wasn't complicated to make. However, even in simplicity, people always found ways to flaunt their expensive tastes and heavy wallets. This time was no different.

To distinguish this creation from ordinary run-off-the-mill tables, it had been fashioned with a heavy top made of a number of pieces, puzzled and glued together to create a complex pattern. Together with its dark color, it gave the whole object a heavy gravitas beyond most tables. Of course, such size also served to disguise the hidden compartment in the center of the hollow table top. To match the top, the legs were large as well, though as hollow as the top.

While much of the table had secrets to hide, a lot of work had been done to distract any observer from their discovery. Despite its hollow interior, the table had shallow markings along the length of its legs, to imply depth and make it appear more solid than it actually was. All openings to the hollow compartments were sealed with solid caps, which were twisted to fasten them in place. Most of all, the mahogany used in the table's construction created a luxurious marbled finish. Who would ever think that anyone would be wasteful enough to spend this much on a table which had been ruined with cheap tricks. After a polish, the expensive woods from the Verdant Isles showed their pattern in all their glory.

All in all, it was a strangely contradictory, yet also incredibly valuable work piece. Yet here it stood in the center of the TaSa manufactory's backyard, surrounded by the noise of the workshop and suffering under the heat of the midday sun, until someone finally deigned to transport it.

However, even then, it was roughly handled by rough hands. A loss of balance from the carrier almost pushed the table straight into the manufactory's walls. The sight caused great distress to one of the workers who had tried so hard to create this expensive piece of work.

The desk, of course, knew nothing about such humanly concerns. Still, if it had possessed ears, this is what it would have heard:

"Be careful where you're going, Kullu! We spent all day making that piece!"

"Shut up, Cusi! You're just some little worker. You wanna teach me how I do my job?"

"Of course not, great master Kullu. Never, great master Kullu."

"That's what I thought. Now get out of the way before you get yourself hurt."

"Of course, I would never-"

"What's going on here, then?"

"Boss Cado! Kullu here just-"

"Nothing's going on, Cado. Just take care of your own stuff."

"Cusi, tell me what happened."

"I..."

"Don't look at him, Cusi, I asked the question. And you stay still, Kullu. I'm still in charge of this place. If I write you up, even you will get in trouble with the master. Now, Cusi. Tell me what happened."

"I just told Master Kullu here that the table is an expensive work piece, so he ought to be careful when he moves it. I know it was presumptuous. Master Kullu knows best, I'm sure. He has transported many such pieces in the past after all."

"That's right. I know how to do it. Don't butt in if you know what's best for you."

"Cusi's right. You should be extra careful with that piece, Kullu."

"And what is it to you, Cado, the great lord of the workshop? You think you can order me around like those cowards in there? You think I'll grovel and call you boss?"

"No, but if there's a conflict, the masters will get involved. Tawo will stand on my side, since I'm in the right right."

"Hah! I'd like to see that."

"And Master Sawo will stand on my side too, since the table was so expensive to make. It'll be a big order, too, if we can get it. You think the master will praise you if you ruin it? But you keep damaging the master's property all you like. I'm done trying to save your ass."

"...it don't look that expensive."

"You know how those rich folk are. The money men in the city all want to look humble and poor at a glance, and then show off to their friends in private. The whole table's made from precious wood, and then there's the hidden compartments. This one was even made based on the customer's own specifications, had to be exact down to the millimeter. That level of precision — and extra manual labor — has a price. If you throw it around the backyard and something shifts inside, all the measurements will be off, and then we can forget about a successful delivery, and the subsequent order."

"Cado, you don't think Master Sawo only cares about money, do you? I know where this precious table of yours is going. You've made a deal with those damn veteran bastards next door! You think if I damage their precious table, Master will care? He'll only praise me for ruining the good deeds of those cripples. And you, you better be ready for Master's punishment. You dare to work with Master's enemies in secret, accept their order? You won't be in charge here for much longer, you'll see!"

"It's not one table. If the Veteran Arms people are happy with our product, we are to deliver a total of fifty, for now. It might end up being even more. That could be a long-term deal worth thousands of Sila. You really think Sawo won't care about that much money?"

"Who knows if any of that really is true? They might just use that weird hollow table to spread lies about our workmanship. That must be why they wanted it built so weird in the first place."

"It wasn't even the Veteran Arms people who made the order. They're just meant to receive our work. Rather, the order came directly from the Finance Department, straight out of Rapra Castle."

"Bullshit."

"If you don't believe me, then you can keep damaging the piece and see if it's true for yourself. See what happens. Kullu, didn't you work in a prisoner camp for a while? If you mess up the government order on purpose, I won't be held responsible. You can go back to hard labor by yourself."

"Whatever. I'll do it. I just have to be careful, right? You happy with that?"

"Good luck then, great master Kullu. And you better forget about the crown's involvement. I'm only telling you because you're going to make trouble otherwise. But really, the entire deal is supposed to be between our two manufactories, officially."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means 'do your work and shut up'. And I'll do mine and make sure that by the end of the day, our profits are up and all our workers still alive."

"Whatever."

Again, rough hands held the table. This time, they didn't throw it around, but they carefully scraped its side against the bricks of the workshop.

"What did I just say!?"

"You said all that matters is the inside measurement, right? If I scuff it up a bit, they can't say anything. And if they don't want trouble with the officials, those bastards'll have to fix it themselves."

"Then you deal with the fallout if anything goes wrong. Don't say I didn't warn you."

-----------------------------

Three days later, the table sat in a storage room of the Veteran Arms Company. By this time, all the secret compartments of the table had been filled with their planned contents and sealed up completely. From the outside, the table now looked even more ordinary, even simpler. Even under careful observation, no one would be able to determine what was inside at all. Or at least, that was the claim a current, careful observer of the table tried to confirm.

As he inspected the work piece up and down, his fingers ran along the wood. The table felt none of it, of course. But if it could, it would have felt the fingers slide across its roughed up exterior. Between its construction and now, many scratches had been added to the surface, all caused by improper transportation. Not only the table would have found this unpleasant — if it had any feelings — but so did the man who was doing the inspection.

"What's with this shoddy workmanship?"

"That's how it was delivered from the TaSa manufactory, Lord Brymstock."

"Please, Brym is fine, Master Alcer."

"This humble man has never learned a trade, and cannot call himself master. Just Alcer will do, Lord Brymstock."

"Whatever you like. So you're saying it was sent over like this?"

"It was. We have documentation, in which we have recorded all the damage we found when we received the work. This has been confirmed by an independent, third party. We also decided to leave the work piece in its original state, so Lord Brymstock can confirm the damage for himself."

"Is that so?"

"No need to worry, Lord Brymstock. The damage is only superficial, and can be repaired within a single day, without leaving a single trace. We have already checked the entire work piece and all the internal mechanisms and measurements inside the table are completely fine. All of our own additions fit the table perfectly, exactly to lord's specifications."

"That's fine and all, but you can see why I would be worried, right? Now it's obvious that there's something wrong with the table. You can't sell it like this. We can't afford to be sloppy with something so important. It's not exactly my usual type of work in the first place, so I would prefer it if everyone was careful."

"Lord Brymstock, we have already reprimanded the uncouth fool who dared to damage the crown's own table. If Lord were to punish him further, the fools of the TaSa manufactory would surely not dare to make trouble for Lord's grand plans again."

"Okay, I get it."

"In that case, Lord may wish to know that the man's name is Kullu, and he was already a prisoner in a labor camp in the past. I hear he used to be a bandit before. This servant suggests locking him away permanently, as he has clearly not learned his lesson from last time."

"No, I meant, I get why you didn't repair the table before I got here."

"Pardon?"

"Yes, I will pardon you, but only this once."

"..."

"Now let me piece together what really happened here, and then you tell me how close I got. The worker who sent this table here dinged it up a bit, because he has a personal grudge with your people."

"Lord-"

"Then, when you saw the damage, rather than fix it, you painstakingly preserved it, to make sure I would get angry at this Kullu person, because you have a personal grudge against him as well."

"Lord, we would never-"

"I already know that there's been some friction between you and the TaSa manufactory next door. Rapra Castle is well-informed, and I would never give away a crucial order like this without vetting the relevant workshops first. And don't think I didn't notice how you keep mentioning the TaSa manufactory — and this Kullu — by name, to make sure I would know who's at fault. Not everyone's an idiot, so I suggest you don't try using a minister of the kingdom as your knife. Had you done this to someone less benevolent than me, it would not have ended well for you."

"Lord Brymstock, I profusely apologize. This was a horrendous lapse in judgment, which will never happen again!"

"Haaah... Do you have any idea why I hired your two companies to do this work, even though I already knew there's a grudge between you?"

"Maybe it was to get both sides to work together? Lord Brymstock must be eager to create harmony within the kingdom."

"Though it may sound rude, I don't particularly care about your store's harmony. Rather, this work is not something that can be done by anyone else. You should be aware of the delicate nature of this order, and I'm sure a smart man like yourself can already guess why the kingdom's own manufactories cannot have any direct ties to this project."

"It's more discreet this way, since the government projects are no doubt attracting more eyes from other kingdoms."

"Yes, spies are one thing, but outsourcing our work also gives us plausible deniability... Well, you don't really need to know details like that. Still, by now, you should now have noticed what kind of work you're doing, and what the purpose of a table like this could be."

"I don't understand, Lord Brymstock."

"But you do. If you're willing to play stupid to protect yourself I'd call it a smart move, but it just means I will have to be more direct. What we're doing here is not exactly above board. Especially in the volumes I want, the purpose of these tables should be plenty clear. You should have also realized that these tables won't end up in Saniya. They will be sent elsewhere, in preparation for a great cause. Do you get it? This work is larger than any one of us. It is crucial for the future of Medala itself. Will you let your petty squabbles get in the way of the kingdom's very future?"

"No, Lord Brymstock. Of course not. I shall warn all partners in the company to treat this work as the most important in the shop, and I will guarantee you that no member of Veteran Arms will argue with the people of the TaSa manufactory anymore, at least until our work is completed."

"Good. Still, I should take part of the blame. I did not expect your conflict to be severe enough to impact this order. It seems I also need to go over to the other side and warn them separately."

"I still suggest a harsh punishment for Kullu, the man is a careless fool who will endanger us all."

"Don't overdo it, even if you're off the hook for now. Remember your promise, and who you made it to. Haaah, I should have never volunteered to take on this kind of work. I'm really not made for it. Who knows how long it'll take just to get the first order ready."

Hermit's Notes: 

First of two late chapters. 

It's a bit of a weird one, from an object's perspective and thus with almost no narration. I thought it was an interesting way to do things, and also wanted to make the chapters shorter to wrap everything up quickly. It ended up feeling a lot like writing a play, which I've never done, so that's why I struggled a bit with it.

I hope everything still makes sense even without narration. If you're confused at any point, please tell me and I'll try to fix it.

Chapter 505 - Latenight Work

Finally, the uncomfortable atmosphere of the walk was replaced with the cozy mood of the small study. This was a private work room close to Corco and Sumaci's bedroom. Due to its convenient location, it was sometimes used for work in the evening, or simply for hanging out. Compared to the relatively stiff and utilitarian main study Corco often used for meetings, this one was painted in much warmer colors and filled with comfortable, well-padded furniture. It also had an open fireplace, which was currently in use and spreading both warmth and a soft crackling.

"I never thought having a child would be this exhausting," Sumaci complained as she plopped down behind the main desk, which was stacked with new documents. "How did Lady Antaya take care of four at once?" she wondered, as she picked up the first of many pieces of paper.

"I guess it'll get easier with time," Corco hoped, and took a seat on a couch in front of the fireplace as well. As usual, hot tea had been prepared in a pot atop the fireplace. As per usual, the tea was probably spiked with some brandy and honey, just to warm them up in the cold winter night. While Sumaci was working, Corco picked up two cups, filled them with the liquid, and carried them over to her. Meanwhile, the queen had taken up a more comfortable position on the large chair, her legs dangling over the armrest as she skimmed through the documents.

"I sure hope so." Although Sumaci was complaining, there was a smile on her face. Her smile grew slightly, before she added: "Though the work is not so bad, is it?"

Corco simply smiled back as he handed her the drink. Sumaci put the documents back down and put the drink to her lips, but didn't take a sip and instead asked: "By the way, I was acting all confident earlier, but is any of that stuff about early child development true? Where did you actually learn about that?"

"You know, That place." Corco gestured vaguely, as he moved back to the sofa and took a seat, careful to not spill any of his tea. "The other world. So the info should be good. I'm not a hundred percent positive it's correct though. Childcare was hardly the focus of my research, to be honest."

"So we may be doing a lot more work than necessary? Maybe it would be better for professionals to handle our little one?" Sumaci asked, with an unsure expression on her face. She seemed to be struggling with something, before she said: "Still, I like our time with Primus."

"Well, I also thought we would want to spend less time at work, and more time with our kid." Corco readily agreed. He took a warming sip of the hot drink, before he added: "I know it's hard to believe, but I'd rather raise a family than debate the fifth update to the country's new entrance exam test papers for officials."

"Yeah, me too," Sumaci's voice drifted off, and a comfortable silence filled the room for a while, before she finally added, seemingly out of context: "He's cute, isn't he, our Primus."

"Of course." A proud Corco replied, and joked: "He's related to me, after all."

For some reason, Sumaci seemed to be suddenly done with the topic. She only gave him another eye roll, and then finally returned to the papers on the desk.

Come on, the joke wasn't that bad, Corco thought, but he knew better than to interrupt his wife during her work. After all, she wasn't only a wife and mother, but also a queen, and had her own responsibilities as a result.

While Sumaci was doing this and that throughout the day — usually supporting her husband or looking after her child — a group of her servants would listen to radio messages from Jurau, which would relay all information from the Verdant Isles back to Saniya. All information would first be written down, then sorted by importance and compiled for Sumaci to read at the end of the day. In the end, she was probably taking on as much work as Corco.

Although taking care of the child had become an extra burden for them, Corco considered it worth it. While Sumaci seemed more tired, Corco had also rarely seen his wife smile so much, and she was a very smiley person to begin with. Thus, he never considered lessening their load.

While Sumaci worked away, Corco himself took a short break. He would wake up earlier in the morning and start work immediately, so his responsibilities were often fulfilled by nightfall, which gave him ample time to relax.

Since Maci likes sleeping in so much, this is her own fault, the wise king concluded, and silently sipped at his spiked tea. He absolutely wasn't annoyed at her sleeping face while he had to go off to work in the middle of the night, certainly not.

"So how's things over there?" he finally asked once the rustling of papers had slowed down.

"Looks like we're finally making some progress on those damn traitors. Seems like that privateering plan is finally bearing fruit," Sumaci explained, as a grim smile formed on her face. Her reaction was hardly surprising, since 'those damn traitors' were the other Colored Kings, who had conspired to kill her father and brother. Corco could very well understand the desire for revenge. Still, based on his own experience, he wasn't quite so optimistic about a quick resolution.

"Well, from what I hear, most of our pirates are still just operating along safe routes, mostly along the west coast of Medala," he said, in reference to Atau's reports throughout the year.

"Still, it's better than nothing," Sumaci insisted. "Mere rumor of their presence in the Verduic Sea have already reduced the living space for those murderers. The more afraid they are, the less they will move around. And some more adventurous people are already making trouble further into the Isles. It says here attacks from enemy fleets are down a lot compared to the past year. As the Verduic Sea fills up with more of our own pirates, competition will push some of them deeper and deeper west. Eventually, they will cover more and more of the Isles. Soon, they will block every single escape path for those bastards. Soon, those bastards won't be able to run any longer."

As Sumaci spoke, her hands kept stroking across the papers on the desk with more and more force, until they began to crumple. On top of that, the more she talked, the deeper her voice became.

"What about the western road from Jurau into our jungle coal mines?" Corco asked in an attempt to distract his wife from her terrible mood. She was getting far too caught up in her revenge for his liking. Although Maci had every right to be angry about the death of her family, this kind of single-minded pursuit certainly wasn't healthy.

That much, Corco himself knew best. He knew how it felt to lose family to betrayal, to have someone become an enemy over greed for power. Most of all, he himself didn't like what kind of man he became every time he got caught up in another revenge plot. He didn't want his wife to go through the same thing, and so was eager to take her mind off such inauspicious thoughts.

Of course, he didn't just mindlessly switch topics to distract Sumaci for nothing. Rather, he was also genuinely interested in the results of the construction. At the very least, certainly more interested than he was in the remnants of their enemies who were still barely hanging on overseas. Unlike those surviving Colored 'Kings', the road west of Jurau actually mattered.

After all, at the end of this road, in the middle of a jungle, their scouts had found a deposit of coal. However, they hadn't known just how useful it was for the longest time. While the coal they had brought back was of high quality, exact estimates were difficult. Since the coal was hidden deep inland and surrounded by dense forest, they had struggled to make a good assessment.

This year however, they finally managed to transport a group of the Traveling Folk into the center of Rasacopa to investigate. It must have been a long, difficult trip full of uncertainty, but as soon as they had arrived, they had finally offered a more comprehensive estimate of the mine's scope.

According to their expertise, the coal mine was not only open-faced — and thus easy to mine — it also contained coal of high quality. Based on the descriptions Corco had read, he assumed that they had most likely found high-quality bituminous coal, or possibly even anthracite. Even better, they had found that the coal was located in a shallow basin, and had found evidence of the same deposit all throughout the area. If coal was present in the entire basin — which was hard to determine since it was still fully covered in jungle — the total size could reach dozens of square kilometers. If the reports from the Traveling Folk were correct or even just slightly too optimistic, this find alone would be more than enough to kick-start a steam-powered revolution that would shake the world.

All this time, Corco had been holding back their country's technological progress due to a lack of materials. Had he wanted to do so, he could have introduced cheap steam engines years earlier. After all, with its high quality steel production from their advanced furnaces, its advanced power tools built all along the river, and its many well-trained clock makers who were experts in mechanical construction, southern Medala long had the technical means to build proper steam engines.

Due to their strong foundation and precise directions from Corco, these steam engines would be far more than mere toys. After just a bit of practical experimentation, they would soon be powerful enough to run water pumps, mechanical spinning wheels, cotton gins, and even trains. So far however, Corco had stifled their development, since they had lacked the most important prerequisite of such progress: coal. As far as Corco was aware, there weren't any coal deposits worth mining anywhere in Medala. Even the coal for their steel mill had to be imported all the way from Chutwa.

Thus, if he had introduced the world to coal power earlier, the southern kingdom would have only benefited for a short time. Soon after, other countries would have just copied their technology, and then they would have quickly exceeded their level of industrialization by virtue of having cheaper, higher-quality coal available in larger quantities. Now however, with the discovery of coal in the Verdant Isles, everything had changed.

If the coal deposits there were to prove sufficient, Corco would be able to truly reform their industry. So far he had laid all the ground work for an industrial revolution, but then he could finally make good use of his preparations.

Though even if the coal deposit ultimately proved limited in size or purity, the coal hidden deep in the jungle still had great value. It was an ideal location to research new technologies in secret. While they searched for and secured more extensive coal deposits elsewhere, they would be able to perfect their steam engine technology already. Whatever ended up being the truth, it would be another huge step into the future.

Thus, the progress of the road into the jungle was an important question to ask, and certainly not just something Corco had said just to distract Sumaci. As a result, the queen just rolled her eyes a little to show that she knew what Corco was trying to do, but she still replied without jokes or complaints.

"It has been slow. Progress on the road has been much slower than I was hoping so far. And yes, you were right. Please don't gloat," she added, before Corco could say anything. While the king was sulking over the missed opportunity to show off, the queen continued to explain. "For now, we are still only halfway to the coal mine, maybe a bit less, since our speed keeps decreasing the deeper we get. Still, there are reasons to be optimistic. Over the past few years, our people have gotten much better at clearing the jungle and building roads. I hear that the south-east of Rasacopa has been completely transformed by their efforts, so they have amassed plenty of experience in this area. The Green Island has been changing so fast. I wonder if I would even recognize it anymore."

Unlike their slow initial progress, this was something Corco hadn't, in fact, predicted, though he very much could have, if only he had been more thorough in his considerations. After all, he had seen the progress in Rasacopa's south years ago. Back then, they had already cleared out a good portion of the forests down south. Now, years later, most of the cloth sold in Saniya was produced by large manufactories in southern Rasacopa, right next to the extensive cotton fields which had been established on former jungle land. Experience with such work would of course have an impact on the speed of their inland road construction.

However, none of that was something that needed discussing. At least, Corco no longer cared that much after he had learned that his industrial revolution would have to wait a little longer still. Instead of lifeless machines, he was more worried about Sumaci's listless look. Although he had tried to make his wife forget about her revenge, he had apparently just made her homesick in the process.

"Maybe it's time we get back to the Verdant Isles some time soon," he thus suggested, before he thought a bit and came up a more thorough plan. "Actually, it's probably best to introduce some kind of rotation. We could spend half a year here, and then half a year in Jurau. In the long term, we can't rule over radio anyways. Something is bound to go wrong eventually, and if we live in both places frequently, we can also improve communication between the people of the two kingdoms. Otherwise the people over there will start saying that we're neglecting them. That's the kind of reputation that's hard to shake. We should really put this on the agenda, and make it official, I think."

"Yes, I'd like that," Sumaci replied, with an appreciative smile, but sad eyes. She paused for a while, as a frown formed on her face, before she added: "But at least we will have to wait until the little one is big enough to travel with us. We can't leave him here by himself, while we enjoy the beaches of Jurau."

"That's true," Corco admitted his fault. From now on, he didn't only have to consider the needs of his people and his wife, but those of his son as well. It was something he quickly had to get used to. While Corco was still admonishing himself for his careless suggestion, Sumaci had already moved on to her own form of self-torture.

"Also, I don't want to take up too much of your time with this Verdant Isles business," she argued, in a voice which sounded casual, but felt forced. "You spent the whole last year on the pirate and hospital issues. I'd rather not delay our progress in Medala just because you want to help me with my own problems all the time."

"You're exaggerating. It's not like I really did things in spite of the country's needs, not even for my favorite student." Corco winked, which earned him another unamused look from Sumaci. However, the king remained undeterred. "There's plenty of other benefits from our health reform, besides the obvious, selfish ones. The hospital alone is going to massively improve our mortality rate, which is a huge benefit to all Yaku people. Just think how many newborns can be saved with the methods we've developed over the past year."

"If nothing else, at least my favorite actress could safely bring her successor into the world thanks to the new hospital," Sumaci admitted. Not long ago, the pregnant queen — herself in the last trimester — forced her way out into the city to visit the hospital, just because some actress she liked had safely given birth to a daughter. Corco didn't get it, but he also wanted to be supportive, so he simply hummed in agreement.

"Though even so, I think we're focused on the wrong place, and I feel like it's my fault," the queen still insisted. "Medala still hasn't been reunified, after all. That needs to take priority. So long as the two northern kingdoms exist, we will never be truly safe. But once the north has been retaken and the empire is unified, our population will triple, and we will be able to replicate our reforms in the north as well. By that point, we will have the strength and security to grow in peace, and improve the lives of the people."

"Sure, that might be true, but the north is developing all on its own. For now, there isn't much we can do without looking like invaders. Rashly getting involved will just unite the northern kingdoms —and more importantly their people — against us," Corco explained patiently. After all, the reunification of Medala had always been on his mind, ever since the country's split during the Succession War. By now, he had long developed a thorough strategy, and he wasn't about to throw everything out over impatience.

"Rather than rush north with an army and watch more Yaku kill Yaku — with dubious results — it'll be smarter to focus on the west for now," the king continued to explain. "Securing and pacifying the Verdant Isles will strengthen us as well, even more now that we have found coal on Rasacopa. As for the north, we've long finished up our layout there. Now, we simply have to help along the natural progression of things, until the people of Sinchay want to join us all on their own."

Hermit's Notes: Since halfway through the next chapter, I decided to do something a bit unusual with it, I've been stuck on it for a while. I'll try to get it done soon, but I'm no longer ahead on chapters for now. Might only post two chapters next week (though working towards three, obviously.)

Chapter 504 - New Inhabitant

A lively whistle chased a grounded twang around the corridors of Rapra Castle. The soft sound of music rang throughout the halls of the kingdom's political center. Of course, this wasn't the first time such a simple and elegant composition had been played in these halls. After years of repeated exposure, similar music had become well-familiar to those living in the castle, and on a good night, even those who lived nearby could enjoy such blessings.

In all that time, the part of the castle from which this music originated had never changed. Today as well, it was still the same. Duets between King Corco and Queen Sumaci in their private chambers had long become a common part of Rapra Castle's evening atmosphere. Yet despite all the similarities, something was different today. For a while now, the exact timbre of the performance had changed, subtly but noticeably rounding off some of the sound's sharper edges. Though of course, such changes were expected after the arrival of a new inhabitant within the royal family's private quarters.

In a large and comfortable room, illuminated only by the soft, steady light of a single oil lamp, the musical duet between king and queen slowly faded out. As it did, Corco and Sumaci looked at each other to better harmonize their performances. It was a move they had repeated countless times over the past few years, yet until now, it never ceased to leave them with calm and warmth in their hearts. Once silence had returned to the room, the two put down their instruments — a koto and a flute respectively — and looked at their audience of one with equally gentle eyes.

Inside a small crib — carved with delicate ornamentation and lined with silk chosen for protection and comfort — lay Primus Corcopaca Pluritac, firstborn son of Corco and Sumaci, as well as heir to their respective kingdoms. The young crown prince had been born well, at a good weight and full of ear-bursting energy in his lungs. His sparse, auburn hair mirrored his father's, while his big, clever eyes took after his mother's in shape — though those eyes had already closed during his parents' lullaby, of course. Truly, after all his worries, Corco had never expected everything to go so smoothly, and their child to be so healthy.

In retrospect, the new father shouldn't have worried as much as he did. After all, Sumaci herself was a well-trained warrior, and thus far less likely to struggle during childbirth than an ordinary person. It was a fact the panicked king had forgotten over the past year, but he still didn't regret any of the extra work he had done, just in case. That much he knew as he stared at the incarnation of their mutual love.

In all honesty, Corco had been struggling for a while by how affected he was in the face of his son. Normally, he was always rational, often even cynical. That was doubly true for children, who he often considered bothersome in their naivete. Yet somehow, in the face of his first child, all he could do was to smile and admire. The cynic in him still tried to remind himself that this was nothing more than a pheromone-based reaction in his brain, intended to protect the next generation from their own parents. However, the father in him — as well as the romantic — felt that this connection went far beyond the physical plane. He had already proven the existence of a soul, after all.

"Lord and Lady."

A sudden noise from the door interrupted Corco's admiration. Although it was hardly a shout, the call — harshly breaking through the silence like an alarm bell at night — couldn't be called a whisper either. With a deep frown forced onto his face by the inconsiderate servant, Corco looked back, to see Llamka stand at the opened door.

Even though she suffered the displeased stares of the two most powerful people in the kingdom, she seemed indifferent as she simply added: "It is time," and in the exact same, indifferent tone as before.

Although both the king and the queen were annoyed, chastising their servant would have been the worst solution in this case. They had just managed to sing and play their son to sleep after all, and didn't want to wake him up again. Thus, Corco simply picked up his instrument in one hand and the little lamp on the side in the other, before the two left the dark room through the sliding door, on the quietest steps they could muster.

After Llamka had closed the door, she began: "Lord and lady, although it may be inconvenient-"

The stern gaze from her two masters interrupted her before she could finish. Maybe even Llamka had finally understood that she had been too noisy this time, so even the know-it-all maid remained quiet for once.

Meanwhile, Corco and Sumaci stared at each other in anticipation of disaster, but finally, they were rewarded with nothing but silence. A breath of relief escaped the queen's lips as soon as she felt safe.

Meanwhile, Corco motioned for Llamka to follow them, and soon they had managed to get far enough away that they would no longer disrupt the crown prince's sleep, which had been so hard-won by his parents. At the same time, two more maids silently stood by, ready for their night shift by the crown prince's room.

"Lord and Lady, although it may be inopportune-" Llamka repeated, and once again, Corco interrupted her.

"It was, very much." He wasn't often this rude to his subordinates — except as a joke sometimes — but he was unhappy with the careless attitude the maid had shown towards her young master. Yet the maid herself seemed completely unaware of the king's displeased mood, or at least, she ignored the complaint with stony-faced stoicism.

"-but the messages from Jurau have been collected and sorted. They await Lady's review in the small study."

"Right," Corco just said, but Sumaci added in a much friendlier tone: "Let's get it done then. It's already too late and I just want to get to bed."

Indeed, the world outside of the many small windows along the corridor was already pitch black. As usual, clouds covered up most of the stars above Saniya.

"More work. What a pain," Corco complained just to complain, something Sumaci was more than aware of, as evidenced by her eye roll. However, Llamka seemed to take it as an opportunity to speak her true mind.

"In fact, there is no need for Lord and Lady to take care of young master themselves. House Hulpatec has many servants who are well-trained in childcare. Ordinarily, similar should be true for House Pluritac."

What does that mean, exactly?

Again, Corco felt like his wife's personal maid was making sly digs at himself and his family. Though this time, the insult was a lot less subtle. After all, House Pluritac was fractured and chaotic, with different branches of the family all ignoring tradition as they fought each other openly. For no other reason could one doubt that the imperial house of Medala might not have any servants to take care of a child. In fact, the insult not only hinted at the chaos within Corco's family, but even at his own legitimacy. After all, only a 'proper' household would have proper servants.

The more he thought about it, the more the king felt hostility from Llamka's simple words. Yet just as he wanted to ask for a clarification - and potentially start a conflict with his wife's servant - Sumaci spoke up first.

"Of course we don't want to make anyone's position obsolete" she said, and in the process reminded Corco that he may have overthought. Most likely, some of Sumaci's servants had just complained that their role was being replaced. At the very least, he should try to find out more about the motivation behind Llamka's words before he accused her of treason. "However, I have it on good authority that close contact with the parents is important for a child's early development," Sumaci continued while Corco was still in thought. "So I will not reduce the time spent with my son."

"On authority?" Llamka challenged. "On whose?"

"The king's." Sumaci shot back, without any further explanation. It was an answer which would not allow for any doubt. If Llamka wanted to eliminate Corco's suspicions from before, she would have to accept Sumaci's explanation this time.

In the end, the maid bowed her head without complaint, to both of them. At the very least, she proved that she wouldn't openly oppose her king. Thus, Sumaci somehow managed to caution her maid, without directly accusing her of treason.

"Very well. In that case, this servant will no longer bother Lord and Lady with her advice," Llamka admitted as the trio continued on their way to the study. "However, for the rest of the night, a servant will see after young master, so please finish the work with peace of mind, and relax after. The kingdoms need their monarchs well rested and healthy."

"I'll let the doctors worry about our health," Corco shot back, still annoyed from before.

"Of course. We have arrived," Llamka said, and opened the door to the small study. "This servant will excuse herself," she added, before she bowed yet again and stepped to the side. Both Corco and Sumaci walked inside, and only the queen added a 'good night,' before the maid closed the door again.

Chapter 503 - Waiting Room

It was the deep of night, and most of Saniya was silent. Across most of the city, the lights were off in the homes of its citizens. Beneath the night sky dominated by the sign of the fox, a blanket of darkness rested upon the streets.

Only Rapra Castle itself was still illuminated in lights bright as day, for there were many guests present in the castle, to bear witness to a great event, one of unique significance to the young kingdom. Yet as everyone waited in anticipation, the king of the young nation was fighting his own private battle, to regain access to his own domain.

"Come on, I just wanna go in for a second, just to see," Corco tried in a colloquial tone. However, the vile guardian of the door would not budge.

"Unfortunately, this servant sees herself forced to decline," Llamka the guardian replied. Although she spoke in a deferential manner, she nonetheless moved not a single step, stubbornly blocking the way to the door even in the face of her king.

"Right. I command you to move to the side," the king in question tried again, this time making use of his authority. Yet the guardian remained unmoved.

"Impossible. Even if this servant were to draw punishment for her crimes, the ancient traditions need be upheld."

In the face of the stubborn Llamka, Corco suddenly felt powerless. He couldn't well punish his wife's head maid just because she was doing her job, right? So instead of forcing his way through, he tried to reason with her instead.

"Okay, sure. Traditions are important. But surely, there's gotta be something I can do, right? Like talk to her to calm her down?" a frantic Corco thought for a moment, before his head bobbed back up with enthusiasm.

"I could play music!" he shouted. "Wouldn't some soothing music help?"

"Please, royal lord," Llamka begged, now almost as unnerved as her king. Though as she spoke, strength returned to her voice. "No man can ever be present for a birth, even if he is the king. Should you enter, your wife will only be unnerved and distracted, at a time when she needs all her focus and her strength. The best royal lord can do for now would be to stay away. Please return to the waiting room. Otherwise, this servant will have to break her oath and lay her hands on her king."

For a second, the desperately nervous Corco considered simply pushing his way through. He wanted to be there for the birth of his first child. Just as much, he wanted to be there to support his wife. Who knew if she needed his support, or his help?

Thus, he observed his wife's maid, in search of any weakness which would let him pass. To his dismay, he found her looking at him with a kind of grim resolve, as if she was truly willing to suffer heavy punishment, just to adhere to some outdated laws. In the end, Corco didn't want to deprive his wife of a helpful and loyal servant just so he could go force his way inside.

If he was honest with himself, he really couldn't do much to help with childbirth anyways. Just how Llamka had said, he would be more of a distraction than any kind of help. In the end, Corco finally realized that entering here was more so to soothe his own nerves, rather than to help his wife.

"Fine," the king thus finally relented, and added in a somber tone: "Take good care of Maci, I'm counting on you," before he turned and left. Although Llamka said something else in reply, the king was no longer interested in listening.

After he had been denied entry to parts of his own castle, he was in no mood to bother with pleasantries. Dejected, he returned to the 'men's waiting room' inside Rapra Castle. This kind of room was a common arrangement within any medalan noble estate. Usually however, such rooms were only set up temporarily, as they would otherwise sit empty most of the year. Only the king's castle was extravagant enough to have one such room permanently, as it was only in use whenever the women of the main family were about to give birth.

Since having children was a woman's business, it was considered bad luck among the Yaku for men to be present during childbirth. Thus, for the entire duration of the birth, all men of the family would be stuck together in this waiting room, safely out of the way, with entertainment at the end of a single, long corridor, so they couldn't get close to the birthing mother, be it by accident or on purpose.

Thus, when the king returned to the room, he saw it well-filled with acquaintances, and stinking to the heavens. Normally, there weren't that many people in this part of the castle — the royal family's private quarters — but a lot of guests had come as soon as they had heard of the upcoming, great event.

For example, most of the king's privy council had arrived, if only to show their presence, and sat in the comfortable chairs worthy of a large salon. They were all laughing and joking, as they eagerly anticipated the birth of the southern kingdom's first heir. As soon as Corco entered however, everyone in the room stopped pretending to be calm. Instead, they all jumped up to greet their king.

Yet once they saw his sour expression, most of them awkwardly sat back down again, maybe hesitant to annoy the sometimes curt king further. In the end, only Fadelio, Atau and Brym came up to Corco.

"So what happened? You get rejected?" Atau was the first to ask, which earned him an elbow jab in his side from Brym, and raised eyebrows to signal 'shut up'.

"What? I just wanna know," the admiral stupidly claimed, all the while ignoring Brym's talkative eyebrows.

"No need to worry, master," Fadelio said in the meantime, as he did his best to ignore the other two. "The queen is in the best of hands."

But not in mine, a worried Corco thought. Yet rather than share his worries, he just returned a labored "sure," and walked past his friends, shoving the arguing Atau's shoulder out of the way in the process. Maybe his friends understood his wish to be alone, or maybe they were too busy arguing among each other, but they were no longer bothering the troubled king.

As he ignored the eager looks of the sycophants in the salon, Corco made his way to the corner of the room, where he sat down and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Although such an endeavor was impossible for the most important person in the kingdom, at least here, his authority had an effect. No one dared talk to the king, as his mind began to swirl like a whirlpool. A mixture of dread and anticipation threatened to sink his thoughts into deep, dark speculation, when a voice brought him back to the present.

"Excellent choice of seat, teacher."

When the dazed Corco looked up, he suddenly realized that he wasn't the only one who had picked this spot. Hieronymus Bombasticus, Saniya's resident chemist and hobbyist auctioneer, usually loved to be in the spotlight. This time however, he had picked a hidden spot in the corner, much to Corco's surprise. Rather, he was even more surprised that this obsessed researcher had come to an event like this in the first place.

"Hey, Ronnie, I didn't think you'd come," he said.

In fact, Corco felt like he hadn't seen the head researcher of his chemistry lab in ages. Most of the time, he would just stay with his work, and blow off all invitations to events, unless he could be the center of attention there. This time however, Ronnie had blended into the crowd so well that Corco hadn't even noticed the otherwise flamboyant Arcavian.

"Of course I'm here. Someone has to protect you from the vultures," he said, and sat forward a bit, which blocked the view of most of the room's craning necks to Corco. Once more, the king was surprised by the strange science man's delicate thoughts, yet as he thought more, he realized that this was nothing new.

"As always, you're the one who understands me best," he simply stated, and thought back to their days as tricksters and salesmen in Arcavia. Clearly, Ronnie had the same thought.

"We're old stage partners after all," the old scammer said with a smile too frank for his old profession. For a while, there was silence between them, before Corco became suspicious again. This guy had never been this sentimental, right?

"So why are you really here?" he asked, expecting a request for an increased research budget. Again. Yet Ronnie still played innocent.

"Isn't it enough to support a friend, and to witness the miracle of birth while I'm at it?"

The mad scientist's innocent smile gave Corco the creeps, and his words gave him a terrible idea.

"Oh god, you're not trying to clone people, are you?" he asked, only half in jest.

"Ahaha, or course not." Ronnie replied with a frank laugh, which relieved Corco, though only for a second, until the mad scientist continued. "We are nowhere near an achievement like that. Yet. However, I did read your reports on cultivation, and I think I have some ideas in regards to human modification. You see-"

"Spare me, please. I already have enough to worry about right now. I don't want to consider a Frankenstein scenario on top of that," An exhausted Corco bent forward and clamped the bridge of his nose with his fingers to fight an oncoming migraine. Maybe it had been a mistake to sit here after all. Though as he spied through his hands and past Ronnie, he noticed that some of the sycophants had stood up to get a better view, eager to see if they could score some cheap points with the miracle king.

Yeah, this spot is still better, he concluded. Clearly Ronnie had seen Corco's distressed look. Though for once, he seemed to interpret it the wrong way.

"Why worry so much? The queen is in the best of hands," he argued the same way as Fadelio, which only earned him an impatient look from Corco. Unlike Fadelio however, Ronnie seemed to understand immediately and added: "...but not in yours, I assume?"

Surprised by the astute observation, but still not one bit less nervous, Corco shrugged and looked around again, only to notice that even more in the crowd had stood up and were slowly shuffling in his direction.

"You worry too much, as always," Ronnie argued this time. "Even I know just how much you have done over the past year just to prepare for today. No one has worked harder than you, except maybe your dear wife. Now the only work left is to relax, and wait to reap the rewards of your labor. Oh, and please do not worry about the vultures. This master will lower himself for once, and hold them off for his king."

With a fluid motion and a dramatic expression, Ronnie stood up and placed himself in between Corco and the approaching people.

"This master must apologize, but King Corcopaca is exhausted, understandably so," he claimed, with a bow, "I humbly bid you to show mercy, and leave some space for now."

While Ronnie was expertly handling the crowd, Corco thought back to the work the chemist had mentioned. Of course, he wouldn't just reminisce to admire his own work. Instead, the nervous father-to-be wanted to see if he had missed anything, or forgotten something. Maybe there was something left he could do here, something that could still improve Maci's chances at success. Still, as he thought more, he realized just how remarkably thorough he had been.

The first thing he had done after he had learned about his wife's pregnancy had been to call upon his legion of Chutwa doctors through Itzali, their representative. As soon as they heard of the imminent heir, they put together a complete report on everything they knew about pregnancy and childbirth. At the same time, Corco also asked local medalan experts on the same topic about their opinion. Finally, he put together a list of reasons for the high mortality rates for mother and child during childbirth, as well as potential methods to fix them. Once he had a complete picture, he began to act.

First, Corco established the first, proper public hospital in Saniya, a plan he had held in reserve for a while. Until recently, the number of doctors in the city was still limited, so there simply hadn't been enough of them to make the plan a reality. Not to mention that all available doctors were mostly busy with research as well.

Yet Sumaci's pregnancy had coincided with the graduation of more and more doctors' apprentices, so the creation of a hospital had become possible just as the king began to focus on it. For now, it would be a pilot project, funded by tax money and free for citizens to use.

In the king's plans, the hospital would of course improve the overall quality of healthcare the citizens would receive. More than that though, it would serve as a hub of knowledge, with a special focus on childbirth.

With so many doctors all working together in the same space, a large number of similar medical procedures could be performed. Then, those methods could be compared, to see which would be the most effective. Double blind studies would also become possible. In general, the sheer number of cases would rapidly advance their medical knowledge.

Over the course of a year, over a thousand babies were born in this one building alone, all of which were recorded in great detail, including initial conditions, complications, methods used and outcome. Finally, after comparing all the numbers, it was found that — surprisingly — the old methods which Medalans had used for centuries were among the most effective.

In the past, due to cultural reasons, birth had been entirely the business of women. To that effect, all local Pacha shrines always housed at least one female apprentice — called a vestal — who would assist mothers with childbirth. As thanks for the vestal's work, the families of the mother would give donations to the shrines after a successful birth, which had always been part of a shrine's income. As it turned out, the mortality rate for mothers and newborns were a lot lower under care of the vestals than they were even under care of accomplished doctors. In this case, the practical experience the vestals had accumulated after delivering thousands of newborns clearly trumped the theoretical knowledge of the doctors.

That didn't mean that the hospital had been useless, of course. For one, one of Butcher's students had managed to successfully complete a c-section in which both mother and child survived, for the first time in Medala's history. They had also done much to advance the concepts of hygiene and sterilization during medical procedures. Now both were being practiced with much greater regularity, which led to much greater results.

Not to mention, the local vestals of Saniya were also attending courses at the local hospital throughout the year, to improve their theoretical medical knowledge. Normally, such an infringement in Saniya's traditions would have received heavy pushback from the conservative priests, in an attempt to secure their authority over births, as well as their source of income. However, after Corco had successfully backed the reformer faction during the Lightning War, such obstacles had long been removed.

Thus, he now had a number of experienced, well-taught midwives who could handle a regular birth. The best of them were currently taking care of his wife Sumaci. On top of that, doctors stood ready in a room nearby, in case a c-section became necessary. Over the year, they had even begun to experiment with blood transfusions. While they still hadn't found the right methods to reliably identify all the blood types, at least they had managed to find a few donors who were confirmed to be O-negative. With blood at hand which could be used on anyone without complications, the doctors could thus administer some transfusions of blood and saline solution in case Maci lost too much blood during the delivery.

Of course, he also made sure to provide pain relief through coca extract, though they were in the early stages of development and essentially would just be drugging his wife with cocaine.

While he was at it, Corco had also invented 'obstetrical forceps', essentially just long metal tongs intended to pull unborn babies out by their heads in case they got stuck in the wrong position. Although it sounded violent, it had supposedly been an extremely useful tool in the other world for a time. Apparently, this tool alone had improved child mortality more dramatically than any other invention, a factoid which was somehow stuck in his head, one which he could now put to good use.

Thus, all throughout the year, the king had spent an inordinate amount of time to make childbirth as safe as possible for both his wife, as well as their unborn child. At times, he had worked to the point of neglecting his other duties. As a reward - and as proof that his efforts hadn't been in vain - child mortality rates in Saniya were way down, which would lead to explosive population growth in the years to come. However, Corco still felt like he hadn't done enough, like there must have been a million different methods he hadn't considered yet.

What about water birth? Wasn't that semi-popular at some point? I should have run some experiments to see if that's safer. What if-

A sudden change of mood in the room pulled Corco out of his thoughts, just as he was threatened to lose himself within them again. He hadn't heard what had happened, but he could still perceive the shift in the air around him somehow. As he looked up, he realized why he felt so different. No one was talking anymore, and everyone was staring at him instead, as if expecting a reaction.

"Huh?" Corco asked, and looked around for help.

"Congratulations, teacher," a helpful Ronnie said and slapped his shoulder. "You have a healthy son."

Only now did Corco realize that the vestal who had been in charge of the delivery was standing by the now open door and looking in his direction as well. Rather than accept the wave of congratulations which washed over him as soon as he stood up, the king ignored everyone here and rushed out as quickly as he could. For once, his smaller cultivator's body was useful, as he forced his way through the crowd without consideration for anyone's health or feelings. Finally, his child had been born. Finally, no one would stop him from seeing his wife. Eager to see both safe, the king rushed towards his family.

__________________________

Thus, the fifty-second day of the autumn season in the eighth year of Strife marked the birth of Primus Corcopaca Pluritac, first crown prince of Medala and the Verdant Isles.

Hermit's Notes: Two more today, for a total of three over the week.

Side Story - Felian Northdale, Looking For a Place To Stay

Back and forth, back and forth.

With monotonous regularity, the brush scrubbed across the wooden planks of the ship's interior. Although the surface would soon be clean of all filth, a single, large wave would be enough to flood the port holes, which would render all previous work useless. It really was nothing more than busywork.

What a dull exercise.

His most recent task aboard this ship reminded Felian of the sword training in his youth, a mechanical repetition of simple motion, again and again, until someone told him to stop. Back then, just like now, he also hadn't understood the point of the exercises, and back then, just like now, he had also dutifully completed them. Though of course, those days of his youth were now long behind him.

"Hey, Pheya. You've done the same spot for a while. Be careful the bosun don't catch you." someone reminded Felian.

"Thank you," he responded, and returned a thankful smile on reflex. Behind him stood Kusi, a fellow sufferer aboard this ship, and a fellow traveler, at least until they reached the goal of their journey. Though of course, Felian didn't have the luxury to focus on the end of their journey. His main priority at the moment was to avoid a flogging, so he quickly adjusted his brush and continued his work in a different spot. However, his fellow traveler seemed less concerned with a flogging in their immediate future, and more with a scam in their distant one.

"Hey, do you really think the turtles will hand us our own land when we get there?"

"You keep asking that," Felian said, a dry remark which made Kusi visibly uncomfortable.

"I know, but I just can't help it. We did so much to get there. It can't be for nothing. You know everything, right? Why can't you know this, too?" Kusi argued.

His over-reliance reminded Felian of his old subordinates, a memory he would much rather forget. He didn't plan to serve a great master in the future, and he certainly didn't plan to take command over more helpless people who leaned on him for everything. Thus, he ignored the question and quietly got back to scrubbing. However, Kusi just wouldn't let go.

"So what is it? Do you think they'll give us land?"

"At this point, I'll be happy so long as we make it off this damned boat," Felian finally replied.

"Ain't that the truth," the verduic farmer said, before he finally returned to his own work in silence.

Relieved that the quiet rolling of the waves outside was once more only interrupted by the sound of his own work, Felian pushed his scrub forward with vigor. Eager to create extra space between himself and his fellow landsman, he ran before the farmer could find a new topic of conversation.

Still, his words weren't entirely spoken to silence his fellow scrubber. Rather, he really wasn't that attached to the idea of farming, and didn't care much if they got the land or not. In fact, any kind of calm and stable life would be just fine by him, no matter where it was. Arcavus knew that such a life was hard enough to find in these chaotic times. Though unlike his God, Felian had to learn such truth the hard way.

Back when he had left his post in Borna's expeditionary army, he had also given up his position as one of Duke Herak's knights. By that point, he had been fighting — and putting out fires — without pause for several years already. When he had set off from Iskay Island with his lonely boat, he had only wanted to find a quiet place on some lonely island, where he could calmly spend his days.

However, he soon realized that his snap decision had been too rash, and his goal too naive. For one, the Verdant Isles were still at war, even if he had abandoned his role in it. He couldn't just settle down on some random island if he had to fear an invasion from pirates or soldiers at any moment.

More importantly however, he couldn't settle down anywhere without an identity. At first, he had planned to live by himself, in the wilderness. At least those had been his thoughts when he deserted his army, as anything seemed better than his life at the time. Yet as soon as he calmed down, he remembered the jungles of the Verdant Isles, the hot, sticky weather, the endless water from all sides, the mosquitoes, bugs and snakes. Once reminded of the very reasons his life had been so miserable these years, he suddenly felt like living in such an environment wasn't a good retirement plan.

Instead, he aimed to find some small community to retire, maybe a rural village somewhere. Though this exactly was where his lack of identity became a problem. He couldn't just show up in some village and become one of the locals. The local kingdoms were stricter, more hierarchical societies than even those in Arcavia. They would never let some unknown man of dubious background join them, even less so a foreigner.

Though luckily, the troubled times provided him with a solution. In times of war, there were always displaced people, for better or for worse. All he had to do then was assume a new identity and join the stream of refugees. Of course, he couldn't do so as an Arcavian.

Luckily, his skin had already darkened from years of fighting in the tropical heat, and he had also learned the local language — at least somewhat — to communicate with their local allies. Thus, he simply grew out his beard to hide his facial features and pretended to be the only survivor from a tiny, isolated island which had been raided by pirates. It would explain his accent, as well as his lack of understanding about the local customs to some degree.

It took considerable effort and many detours, but in the end, Felian Northdale — under the new name of Pheya — managed to board a small vessel full of refugees in return for his sword and his family's bronze seal. After giving up all possessions from his old life, the boat finally led him to the city of Jurau on Rasacopa.

At last, he had arrived in a large city, and with a new identity as a local to boot. However, he had never entertained any intention of staying there. Just like the island of Iskay he had fled, Rasacopa was also mostly jungle. He had suffered enough under the heat of these damn islands for the rest of his life. So instead, he chose to move on, rather than settle down. Not to mention, now that he was one of the Verdant Folk, a fantastic offer was available to him, tough one which required a second trip across the ocean.

For some reason, the king of southern Medala, the merchant who got Felian into this mess in the first place, was offering free land to anyone who was willing to relocate from Rasacopa to the merchant's kingdom. Although it sounded like a scam to Felian — who knew that everything in life had a price — he did some further snooping and finally determined the offer to be genuine, at least according to the locals. Throughout his research, he had kept himself alive with daily odd jobs, earning his bread in the heat of the jungle by the sweat of his brow. By that point, he was more than ready to leave and never return.

Thus, he found a small group of farmers who had the same goal as him and mixed in with them, blending into the crowd to make his way back east. Although in their attempts to find a ship, they were rejected many times by many different crews — and only barely escaped a brawl in one of Jurau's most infamous taverns — they finally managed to find a ship willing to use them as free labor in return for passage. While the work was monotonous and hard, Felian would put up with anything, so long as the temperatures continued to drop along their course. Not to mention, at the end of the hard work, he would get exactly what he had wanted all this time.

After getting off the ship, he would officially be considered a former citizen of the Verdant Isles, who was now settling in Medala, a place where no one could confirm nor deny his fake identity. At that point, whether or not he took the land didn't even matter anymore. WIth a new identity, the world would open up for him, and he could finally plan the next phase of his life in peace.

"You hear me, boy!?"

A scream right next to Felian's ear broke him from his thoughts. When he looked over, he saw the bosun stare at him, his favorite flogging rod gripped tightly.

"Sorry, boss. I'll clean better," he said on reflex, and sped up the pace of his brush. However, the bosun ripped the brush right out of his hands instead.

"No, I'm saying we're about to land in Saniya. You're done. Get off my ship before I change my mind and beat you some more."

After another few seconds of confusion, Felian looked over to Kusi, who returned a nod and a look full of happiness. Finally, they had made it.

"Thank you, sire," an overjoyed Felian shouted. He didn't even notice the bosun's confusion at the strange way of address. Rather than worry about those he would never meet again, he ran over to one of the ship's gunports. From within the dingy lower deck of the ship, he spied through the tiny opening to get his first proper look at Saniya, the mystical city his master Herak had tried and failed to conquer for so long. Finally, he was here. One way or another, this was where he would restart his life.

-------------------------

When Felian first set foot inside Saniya, he liked the place straight away. The city was huge, no smaller than the greatest cities of Arcavia. Even more, it was clean, and vibrant. To the well-traveled knight, it looked like a place full of opportunities. Though before he could take advantage of any of them, Felian and the other farmers were sent to an official looking building full of official looking people, where they would receive the land they had been promised.

However, when they were presented with their new land deeds, Felian immediately realized that something was wrong. His fellow farmers were eager to accept the offer as soon as it was presented to them, all of them just happy to receive any land for free. Yet unlike them, Felian had studied the maps of southern Medala in the past. He knew that the land they were handed was in the deepest south-east of the king's lands. It was a land of ice and snow, with many hills and little fresh water. All in all, it was of dubious worth. If he remembered correctly, this was the absolutely worst farmland the king's officials could offer to them.

With a vain hope in his heart, Felian asked if they could not receive any other land, but the official only said that the extra effort was not worth his while, unless they wanted to 'support his efforts'. Apparently, the officials here were abusing their power to decide the land distribution based on the bribes they received.

Though Felian was willing to pay a bit more for good land — especially since he was about to get it for free — he had given away the last of his possessions just to get here. Neither he, nor any of the other destitute farmers had the means to bribe their way into better property. In the end, the others still accepted the poor offer, despite their misgivings. Without any practical skills besides farming and worried for their futures, they didn't have another choice. Felian, meanwhile, felt swindled and unhappy — and more confident in his abilities to survive anywhere. Thus, he left the office without any land to his name.

As far as he was concerned, staying in Saniya was much better than a plot of farmland on a glacier anyways. If nothing else, there was plenty of work here, and plenty of directions to go in. In a place so full of opportunity, Felian had a hard time deciding what he wanted to do. This was where he planned to stay, at least for a while, as he tried to determine where his future would lead him.

Yet soon, he realized that his vision for the future had once again been too rosy. As he worked more odd-jobs and began to gather information again — this time in an attempt to find more permanent work — he soon discovered how bizarrely hostile Saniya was towards outsiders. This was doubly strange since most of the locals had moved here not long ago themselves. However, all of these first-generation immigrants had more than one reason to exclude outsiders.

For one, many of them — the ones who called themselves locals — had been here since before the lightning miracle. On the day of the miracle, many of them organized or spontaneously joined in the rebellion which killed a grand noble of Medala and started the lightning war. Since then, the local population was particularly close-knit, but was also more wary towards newcomers. That had become doubly true since the end of the war, when the city had been troubled by an influx of poor refugees from the defeated noble houses for a while.

Ever since then, these two groups, locals and newcomers, were suspicious of each other, and of anyone else who wanted to join this great, big city. Though the war was not the only reason for the local distrust of foreigners.

Apparently, there had also been a lot of spying incidents throughout Saniya's short history, which resulted in a general atmosphere of suspicion towards unknown faces. That counted especially for Felian, who was considered Verdant Folk, many of whom were still fighting Saniya's army in the western sea. To be frank, most of the spies — and even assassins — had been sent by Borna and its allies, so the bornish knight felt he had no right to complain about his exclusion.

On top of that, Felian also didn't have a registered entry of identity at the local archive, something all the locals had. Had he accepted the land back then, he would have been added upon arrival on his new farm. Now however, he once again lacked the identity he craved so much.

Without such an entry, he couldn't find any permanent employment, nor could he join one of the new work cooperatives. Worst, he could not visit many important places in the city either, many of which were important for gathering information. The newly opened public library attached to the university, or the public schools, for example, were great places of knowledge, which every citizen could visit for free. Meanwhile, unregistered aliens like himself could only take advantage of the city's extensive police system.

After his third visit to the police station to prove his innocence over some 'anonymous tip' from a local, Felian finally realized that he wouldn't find peace in this city, no matter how great it was. However, just as he was starting to feel desperate, rudderless and without a goal, a new way out presented itself once more, as if by divine providence. Bizarrely, this way out led him almost back to his starting point, back to the edge of the central kingdom.

Apart from the king's offer of land for immigrants, several other southern nobles were also trying to attract farmers. Apparently, many local peasants had fled their lands during the last war, and these lords now needed replacements to work their fields. In most cases, their offer was little more than a contract of slavery, offered only to the poorest and most desperate in the city. However, Lord Makipura's offer, in particular, was different, for various reasons.

First off, this Lord Makipura was the country's minister of agriculture, responsible for all the farming in the kingdom. Thus, he needed to show initiative on the implementation of the country's new agricultural innovations. As a result, many methods on farming organization from the king's lands were directly adopted in Makipura's territory.

Not only that, the lord's estate of Tacicir was also the only region of the southern kingdom which lay north of the Narrows. Not only was the northern culture different from that in the south, which made the territory less attractive for southern settlers. It was also the only southern kingdom territory to share direct borders with the central kingdom, an enemy nation. Many would be worried that another war could break out soon, and that their new lands would become a front line. Thus hemmed in by circumstance, in order to attract any new farmers at all, Makipura's offer was very generous, no worse than the king's. Not only could newcomers receive free land without the need to become the king's servant, they would even be granted one of the elusive identity entries upon arrival.

Even so, most locals weren't eager to take the offer, and chose to stay away from a potential battlefield. Instead, they preferred to move to the Verdant Isles in search of free land.

However, the offer attracted Felian, and the reluctance of the locals suited him just fine. Unlike the rabble, he knew about the state of the central kingdom. The land had been wrought with internal struggles even before the last war, which had further depleted its might. Felian knew that they were in no condition to start another war anytime soon. Even if they did, without support from Arcavia, the central kingdom was hardly a threat, stuck in a poor strategic position and faced with the powerful southern armies.

Thus, he wouldn't have to worry about foreign armies trampling his crops. All he had to content with on the border would be some bandits or wild animals, at worst. Yet Felian himself was still a knight. Even without a sword, what he feared the least were rabble and beasts. Not to mention, the temperate northern climate would suit him much better, for it reminded him of his distant home.

Thus, without any further hesitation, Felian once more embarked upon a long journey, this time to the north-east across the entire length of Sachay. At this journey's end, he would finally find a place to call his own, a place where he could forget about the violence of the world, or so he hoped.

Hermit's Notes: This one may or may not stay as a side story. If I figure out where to fit this in the current book (it looks out of place right now), it might turn into a regular chapter.

Chapter 502 - Promise

More and more, Sami had to both admire and dread his friend's pettiness. As he walked towards the men in the center of the deck — slowly to keep his balance on the unsteady ship — the petty admiral Chanca continued to ridicule his defeated foes.

"Maybe you shouldn't have had such a big mouth in my backyard. Maybe you shouldn't have been screeching about the 'stupid southern barbarians'. And maybe, just maybe, you shouldn't have run the same route over and over again. Just north and south and north again. Anyone can lay an ambush if you're that predictable," Chanca explained, as his arrogant smile slowly grew into a self-satisfied grin. After a quick glance at the kneeling sailors on the side, he added: "Though what really killed you was your crew. Those guys really hate you, you see? I only had to buy that former man of yours a single drink and he told me everything I wanted to know. You shouldn't have left him stranded in Challwala, if you ask me. I'd say be nicer to your men in the future, and don't throw them off the boat for no reason in a foreign land, but I guess that won't help you anymore. I mean, look at them." As he spoke, Chanca pointed his bloody machete to the side.

Indeed, the sailors who were lined up along the ship's railing all stared at the two unbearded fools with sneering mouths and hate-filled eyes. Their resentment was certainly down to their current position, but resentment must have been building for a while. The fools clearly hadn't treated their crew too well.

At the very least, it would explain how Chanca could so quickly learn about their route from a disgruntled crew member. It would also explain why the crews of the five ships had reacted so poorly in the face of a pirate raid, worse than even Sami's own, inexperienced crew.

Not only had their response been chaotic, which implied a lack of training and leadership, these sailors had also surrendered pretty much as soon as their own health had been threatened. In the process of catching the three ships at the back, there hadn't even been a single death on either side, which said a lot about their lack of commitment.

With the unwitting support of the foolish northern captains, they had easily taken all five ships, a feat which seemed impossible based on their initial positions alone. Yet with no losses, all obstacles had been removed, and they only had to wait for reorganization until they could sail all ships back south. Now all that was left to consider was what to do with the crews of these two ships, as well as their foolish captains. As he stared at the bloody machete in Chanca's hand, Sami just hoped his friend wouldn't make any radical decisions.

"Well, admiral, having fun?" he said to make his presence felt, in an exaggeratedly casual tone to hide his tension.

"Hey, Sami! You're right on time," a happy Chanca turned his head and said. "You also wanna have a turn with these fools?"

As he spoke, Chanca turned back and pointed his bloody machete at the poor fools kneeling before him. Although Sami didn't like the two, the thought of further torture made his skin crawl. He didn't like to see his friend like this, so eager to prove himself in front of his father-in-law's crew that he would commit such horrible acts. Beyond that, he certainly didn't want to be involved in any more barbaric acts either.

Rather than participate in bloody murder, he tried to refocus their attention on their next step.

"No thank you, I think they've already suffered enough," he thus said, before he looked towards the suppressed crew to the side and tried to prove Chanca's intentions. "So now we've won their ship and captured their crew. What do we do with them?"

"I didn't think that far, really," Chanca said in a casual tone, which almost forced an annoyed sigh out of Sami.

Of course you didn't.

Although he didn't agree with Qawa's assessment that Chanca was useless, this admiral certainly only did well in things he cared about, and didn't like thinking much about anything else. To prove Sami's point, while he was still picking his words to convince Chanca of the same deal he had offered the previous crews, his friend had already determined an irresponsible and mindless solution.

"I thought we just throw them all overboard and be done with it," he suggested, a plan which was as lazy as it was cruel.

"Are you... sure that is the best idea?" Sami asked with some hesitation. Although he felt like he knew his friend well enough to judge him not a cruel man, he still decided to be careful. What if Chanca's remark hadn't just been lazy and inconsiderate? What if he had really gotten a taste for blood these days?

Although Sami didn't want to condemn his friend over his own insecurities, he also thought it was better to be careful. More than anything, he didn't want his friend to turn into a bloodthirsty monster. Even more, he also didn't want to see so many of his countrymen to die senselessly, just because they found employment with the wrong boss. To his relief, Chanca thought for a second, before he turned to Sami with a question, rather than an order.

"So what do you think we should do?" He left the problem to Sami, in the same lazy tone as before. Apparently, he really had just been thoughtless, rather than malicious. It made the young captain sigh in relief.

"I think it would be better to keep the sailors alive," Sami immediately said. "I mean, we don't want to sail all those new ships of ours back home on our own, right? If these guys really don't like their bosses, then they obviously won't mind switching teams. I mean, the guys on the other ships even offered to join us on their own. All they wanted was a bit of money, and we can pay them their wages easily from the loot we got this time. Surely, the men here aren't any different. Isn't that right, boys?"

As soon as Sami turned to address the captured sailors, the smarter ones among them immediately understood his intentions.

"Yes, master! We hate those northern bastards!" the smartest one shouted.

"Yes, master! Please don't abandon us! We will do whatever you say!" another added, while crawling forward on his knees.

Soon, the entire crowd fell over each other to profess their loyalty. Even with their hands tied, Chanca's crew had a hard time controlling their enthusiasm. The more noise they made, the more Chanca's brows drew together, until he exploded.

"Shut it!" he shouted, and raised his bloodied machete, which immediately silenced the crowd. Although Sami was glad these prisoners had calmed down before things got out of control, he was even more determined to save them, and make use of them at the same time.

"What do you say, admiral? Don't you like their enthusiasm?" he asked in acted confidence.

"Yes, great admiral, we are willing to submit!"

"We are awed by the great admiral's might!" the prisoners once again added. Luckily, most of them remained quiet in the face of the bloody weapon, so no more chaos broke out.

This time, there was no long-winded negotiation with drawn weapons on both sides. The crew didn't make any demands, and just submitted without resistance. More importantly, Chanca's grin returned, and it grew wider and wider every time the sailors flattered him.

"Fine, we can take them in. But if any of them make trouble, I'll throw them overboard myself," he finally relented, much to Sami's relief. Yet before the former carpenter could breathe easy, his friend's head sharply turned to the two defeated captains right beside them. "But we won't need these fools to sail the ships home, right?" A dangerous light returned to Chanca's eyes as he stared down the fools.

"Please don't hurt us! We apologize!" the skinny one said, with tears in his eyes. In his panic, he had even forgotten about his affectatious way of talking. Gone were the 'this scholar's and the 'barbarian's, now only panic was left. In contrast, his tall friend showed no remorse for his actions.

"Do your worst, pirate! The scholars will take revenge for this master once they have wiped your barbarian country off the map."

In response, Chanca backhanded the big man so hard his head snapped back.

"Good, I like your spirit!" he said, as an evil grin rose on his face again. "As a reward, I'll give you a quick death."

As Chanca raised his machete to follow through on his promise, Sami began to panic again. Now that everything was decided, he just didn't want to see any more blood. After all, he had been a simple craftsman up until recently, and he didn't want to see his good friend turn into a monster in front of his eyes. At the very least, he wanted to prevent any needless murders, if he could. Surely, Ekkoko's men were already impressed enough, and there was no need to sink even further into piracy just to impress them.

Thus, before he could think clearly, he had already shouted: "Wait!"

"What is it this time?" As Chanca turned back towards Sami, he finally looked annoyed. However, the clever craftsman's mind worked overtime and quickly came up with an excuse to save the lives of these defeated fools.

"Why kill them now?" he stammered, as he constructed his argument in his head, while he also did his best to suppress the quiver in his voice. "I mean, if we let them go instead, they can always buy more ships, and we can just rob them again. They did say they were sent by the northern kingdom, right? Surely, the northern crown has silver enough to pay for more than just five ships."

"Hmmm..." As he seemed to be mulling over his options, the machete in Chanca's hand bobbed up and down. Now that there was hope for a mostly bloodless solution, Sami tried even harder to convince his friend.

"Also, if we let them get back home, they can tell our story in the north. You'll become famous as a big pirate, the bloody admiral! Everyone up there will be terrified of us."

"I do like the sound of that," Chanca replied, as his previous, leisurely grin returned.

"And if we kill them now, every merchant fleet we raid in the future will fight us to the death," Sami continued to argue. "I mean, if they would die anyways, they better try to resist as hard as they can, right? But if we let them go now, then other merchants will know that we won't kill them if they don't resist. You do want to repeat this kind of raid in the future, right? Letting them go will just make our work that much easier from now on."

As Sami barraged Chanca with one argument after another, the bloody admiral's brows twisted, as he tried to follow his friend's increasingly fast torrent of words. Whether he had been convinced or simply decided to do his friend a favor, Chanca finally gave up and waved away all concerns with his bloody machete.

"Whatever, I've vented enough anyways," he said, and fully turned away from the two fools. "Just give them a boat and let them go. They can row to shore on their own. That fortress over there probably has some fools willing to help them."

Under the grateful eyes of the captives, Sami watched as Chanca's orders were executed. Although the tall fool was still mumbling curses under his breath, his cowardly companion held him back from doing anything stupid, until they had been let into the water and began to row away.

After, the new crew members of theirs were redistributed on the ships, just how Qawa had done with the others before. Although they had been professing their loyalty in a most violent manner, Sami couldn't trust them, of course. After all, no matter how poor their treatment had been, it was still a fact that they had betrayed their captains. Without a spine, and without honor, their service was of dubious use. Sami couldn't help but think that they would have to release all of their new crew as soon as they reached Saniya, and then rehire new hands, if they didn't want to share the fate of the unbearded fools. Without really being aware of it, Sami was already planning for their next journey.

Not long after, the newly grown fleet of seven ships began its journey south, towards their home. On Sami's suggestion, they made a wide berth around the Argu Delta, to avoid meeting any other ships. At this point, Sami just didn't want anything else to go wrong. The less contact they had with others, the better, as far as he was concerned.

Eventually, his caution paid off and they reached the open waters of the Narrow Sea without another incident. Only half a day later, they finally spotted the high roofs of Rapra Castle on the horizon, just as the first snow of the year began to fall. After more than two seasons at sea, they were finally back home. And with them, they had brought riches Sami couldn't have imagined at the start of their journey.

Finally, he had made something of himself, and become a man of wealth, and status. Finally, he had made the first step in fulfilling his promise to his family, and to himself.

Hermit's Notes: That is the end of this mini arc. There'll be another few chapters of transition, and then a last short arc in this book.

Chapter 501 - Cleanup

Compared to the short battle on the first ship, the subsequent cleanup of the two central vessels was far more bothersome. Though at first, the crews did their best to make their work even easier than the first had, much to Sami's surprise.

As the Suyana closed in, these crews had still been tense in the face of an unknown enemy. Although they didn't have any cannons aboard, they still used axes and sabers to cut off ropes and used long sticks to push away ladders and prevent a boarding, just like the first had. However, maybe because Sami's people hadn't fired any more cannons beyond the first two warning shots, they stopped fighting almost as soon as the first enemies had successfully boarded the ship.

Rather than panic like the first crew, the sailors instead stood together atop the stairs which led down into the ship's hull. In such a tight group, they could better protect the cargo in the lower decks, as well as each other. Once Sami himself boarded the first of the two ships, their captain quickly spoke up and began to negotiate their terms of surrender.

Though much to Sami's delight, their terms were almost non-existent. As it turned out, most of the people on board had been recruited in Saniya, the only place in Medala with enough sailors who knew how to operate a galleon. Although they were good at their job, their origin also made them less loyal to their bosses from the north. Most likely, the rowdier first crew had some northerners mixed in, which had caused the internal division. These ones, however, were almost entirely made up of southerners. Thus, they hadn't fought very hard to protect the property which wasn't theirs, and they didn't want much in return for surrender either.

All they wanted was to have their personal property aboard guaranteed, as well as free passage back to Saniya, without losing their freedom. They would help Sami transport the new ships back south, and in return, they would also receive double their expected salary for this trip once they arrived in Saniya. Faced with such generous conditions, Sami didn't even bother haggling.

He was very happy to pay a few coins to quickly deal with the trouble of taking over and transporting these new vessels. Not to mention, the cargo on these ships alone would be worth more than enough to compensate all the sailors. So in the end, they wouldn't have to pay anything, and would even make a tidy profit on the operation. Of course, such calculations didn't even consider the value of new ships they had captured.

Thus, Sami gleefully repeated a similar process on the next ship, and even decided to pay the crew of first ship they had taken over without any kind of deal. After all, there was no reason to treat any of these crews worse and risk a mutiny in the process, not when the pay was so laughably low. Still, it wasn't like all of Sami's troubles had been solved in this one action. As soon as the ships had been taken over, the real trouble had only begun.

Although they had now solved the problem of transporting the new ships — since the old crews had agreed to work for them — of course the crews couldn't be allowed to operate their old ships by themselves. In the end, they were still captives after all. What would Sami do if the new crew just ran away with their shiny, new ship during foggy weather, for example? Thus, Qawa would have to spend some time securing the three new ships and binding them together with rope to limit their maneuverability. Not to mention, rectifying their crews represented another mountain of work.

To make any organized resistance from the freshly imprisoned crews more difficult, the quartermaster would mix up the crews — and add some of Sami's own men for good measure. Although it wouldn't keep them quiet forever, it would buy them a lot of time, as the unfamiliar, new crew mates would have to quietly reorganize while hiding from Sami's men before they could even attempt an escape. Since they only needed to prevent a mutiny until they reached Saniya, time was on their side. At least until then, this system would guarantee obedience.

Once this process of recombining the crews was done, the new ships could be integrated into their fleet. Though since Qawa had been put in charge of this reorganization, all Sami had to do was wait. Thus, finally, he could consider the two ships at the front of the merchant formation.

To the benefit of Sami's tensed nerves, Chanca had also done his part and managed to stop the goals of his raid. At this moment, the admiral's 'Kallpa' had anchored herself between two enemy ships, both of which had taken considerable damage. A casual observer would have been astonished. Both ships were much larger than Chanca's, especially the massive flagship of the enemy fleet, a galleon with at least twice the tonnage as theirs. Although it looked a bit silly to have such a tiny ship overwhelm much larger ones, the difference in armaments — as well the difference in specialization — were far more important than the sheer volume of wood and nails.

In the end, these slow merchant ships, built to maximize the size of their cargo hold alone, could never have escaped from their sleeker, faster vessels, even if they hadn't completely botched their response to the raid. By the time they ran into a dead end, the cannons on Chanca's ship made the defeat of the unarmed merchants almost inevitable. Thus, by the time Sami was done with his own work, the Kallpa had already anchored along not one, but both enemy ships, one on each side. The sails of one hung down in worthless strips, while the other had its hull riddled with holes and dents from the cannon fire.

Though now that Sami looked at the enemy's flagship in earnest, it seemed quite familiar. His suspicions from earlier became more and more concrete. Chanca really had been waiting specifically for this fleet, rather than for any easy target. Just to confirm his suspicion completely — and because he had nothing better to do while his men were busy — he ordered Qawa to take over the command for a while, while he took two of his crew and a dinghy to row over to the newly captured capital ship.

Once they came close enough, Sami only had to shout up and identify himself. Shortly after, the new occupants of the vessel let down a ladder to help him aboard. While he was still climbing up to the main deck of the massive galleon, he could already hear Chanca's smug voice. Somehow, he managed to both complain and brag about his most recent achievement at the same time.

"Even if you're not impressed by this raid of mine, the least you could do is fake a clap, right? Do you have any idea how much time I've wasted on you, hiding out in those damned rocks over there? And during the boarding, I got all wet, too. Just look at my boots. That's Llama fur, you bastard! Do you know how expensive that stuff is? And now it's all wet. Don't look at me like a fool. It's your own fault you got boarded, right? So any damage from the boarding is your fault, too. Maybe it's time you realize what happens when you talk back to the wrong man."

Once Sami reached the top of the ladder, he gave the sailor who had lowered it down for him a nod, though just out of politeness. Of course, the second captain of their fleet was let through without a word, so Sami could finally see the scene atop the merchant fleet's flagship.

The sailors of the crew had been lined up along the railing of the merchant ship. All of them were on their knees, with their hands tied behind their backs, while a dozen members of Chanca's crew guarded them, weapons in hand and tough guy expressions on their faces. From the lack of dead — and the lack of blood — Sami judged that the resistance here hadn't been much fiercer than that on the other ships.

For the moment, it looked like things were under control, so Sami could focus his attention of the center of the main deck, where the most interesting things were happening. There stood Chanca, his proud head raised high as he held a machete in his right and a long tuft of bloody, black hair in his left. Even more hair and blood were scattered all around his feet. It wasn't hard to guess where both had come from.

In front of Chanca knelt two men, one thin and short, another stout and tall. Their beards had been shaved off — poorly — and their faces were revealed. There were still some hairs hanging off their chins, and their chins and cheeks were bloodied, in places where the knife had shaved too close for comfort.

Clearly, Chanca hadn't cared about their health when he had provided his involuntary service. Even though it had been almost half a year since they had met, and even without their beards, Sami could identify the victims right away. These were the two northern fools who had bothered them all the way back in Saniya's stock exchange. As expected of the men who would transport a massive fleet full of valuables without any protection, back then they had been dumb enough to proclaim themselves northern spies, and then even dumber when they had offended Ekkoko's son-in-law.

Just as I thought.

Finally, Sami's earlier conjecture had been confirmed. Apparently, they hadn't just waited at the Thorns to ambush any passing fleet they could find. Instead, they had waited specifically on these two fools, just so Chanca could get his revenge.

Hermit's Notes: It took a while to fix up these chapters, since they were a total mess when I finally looked at them again a week or so ago. Honestly would have probably been easier to just rewrite them from the start. Though on the plus side, I also managed to write three-ish new chapters. 

So there'll be another chapter today (and a maybe extra chapter), and then around three or so chapters a week from next week on.

Chapter 500 - Thorns

Some thirty kilometers north-north-west of the Argu River Delta, the endless, open waters of the Verduic Sea were interrupted by a complex formation of sharp stones jutting out of the water. The medalan maps called them 'The Thorns'. To their opposite, on Medala's western coastline, stood the Maqlluchala territory of House Custodia.

For as long as historians bothered to keep records, pirates had been using the Thorns as a convenient hiding spot, even after the imperial House Pluritac had entrusted these lands to House Custodia to combat the pirate plague in the local waters. After all, the reef formation was not only an excellent hideout to lay low or throw off pursuers, it was also close enough to the Argu Delta to keep an eye on the busiest waterway in all of Medala in hopes of a big catch.

Traveling upstream from its delta, the Argu River led past the wealthy Huaylas and through the eye lake, all the way to the imperial capital of Arguna. Unbelievable volumes of wealth were transported in and out of the Argu Delta every day. It was an irresistible delicacy for pirates, and the Thorns were the perfect spot to await careless victims.

Yet the days of reckless plunder were long in the past. Generations ago, House Custodia had taken measures to suppress this pirate plague. A mighty fortress stood on the shore of the sea, directly opposite the Thorns. Its very construction alone had earned House Custodia — then no more than wealthy warriors — a place among Medala's ruling class.

The great stone slabs of the Thorn Fortress, covered in algae and overgrown with barnacles, stretched out of the water and anchored across the land like a giant gauntlet covered in spikes. From the center of this gauntlet, a massive stone pier stretched two hundred meters into the water, with interspersed towers atop to deter any would-be attackers. Along this pier, the fleet of House Custodia had been docked for generations, to hunt any pirates who dared invade their waters. With the solid support of the fortress in their backs, they could freely control the region's seas, and left no living space for any raid ships from the west.

Thus, the mighty walls of the Thorn Fortress had largely kept pirates out of the Thorns for generations. Yet in recent years, too much had changed all across Medala. These changes had not only touched the south, which was inspired by the innovations of the eastern continent, or the north, which was obsessed with the western ideas of the scholars. Even here, in the most conservative central kingdom, great changes had taken place.

After the complete destruction of the central kingdom's fleet during the Lightning War, no naval forces were left in central Medala to defend its western waters. Thus, House Custodia also lacked the power to drive pirates from the Thorns for the first time since its establishment. Although the mighty Thorn Fortress was still unconquered, it was toothless without an accompanying fleet, barely able to protect the shores of the Maqlluchala estate from invaders.

Just as things had been before House Custodia's enfoeffment, the Medalans were once more powerless to stop those with bad intentions within the Thorns. Whether it was pirates lying in ambush — waiting for unsuspecting merchant ships traveling to and from the north — or others hiding away among the shadows of the Thorns for various reasons, all of them had returned to these legendary reefs. Thus, the old traditions of the Thorns had been revived. Many did not appreciate such a return to the days of old, of course. Even so, some among those detractors were hiding out within the Thorns themselves, even as they complained.

"Only a fool like our great Admiral Chanca would order us to stay here," an exasperated Qawa said as his squinted eyes scanned the black, craggy reefs all around them. "We're wasting time, and if we're not careful, others will think us pirates. Or worse, real pirates might hide out here too, and target us as soon as they see us. What good could staying here possibly do us?"

"You should have a bit more faith, old man," Sami replied. Unlike his quartermaster, whose fingers tried to dig into the ship's hardwood railing, Sami's stance was casual and comfortable. After all, he had learned to trust his unreliable friend over the course of their journey. "People tend to underestimate Chanca, myself included. But he probably has a plan."

Although he said so, Sami himself didn't have full confidence in Chanca's arrangements. A few days ago, Sami and Qawa had explained their course to Chanca, as well as the local geography, at which point the great admiral had insisted they hide out close to the main trade routes between north and south Medala. However, he refused to elaborate his plans any further than that, no matter how much Sami asked or Qawa complained. Since then, Sami had given up asking, though Qawa had never given up on his complaints.

"Maybe the fool thinks our cargo is too hard to defend with two ships," the quartermaster guessed Chanca's intentions, though his own intentions seemed to be impure as he did. "I mean, you won't find anywhere with more traveling ships than up and down the Argu, so there's always danger. He might be afraid of pirates, so he wants to wait a few days here to make sure we are safe on our way south? Or maybe he wants to catch some pirates here to prove his worth? He hasn't done anything all the way, after all, other than bother me to death. Either plan is stupid, of course. The northerners' fleet is at the bottom of the sea, so there's no threat of their ships lurking in the delta. And the mouth of the Argu is still controlled by the Custodia family. No pirates who dared to stay here for centuries. Even without their ships, it'll take a while for their reputation to take a hit. Only the boldest pirates would try their luck at the delta. If any were to hide in any place along our route right now, it would be at the Thorns alone. Yet here we are, putting ourselves in danger on the whims of a fool."

"Yes, a fool," Sami muttered, only half-listening to his quartermaster's ramblings. He himself also didn't think the plans Qawa had assumed were any good, but he also didn't believe that Chanca was pulling them off-route and wasting their time for such stupid reasons. Instead, he remembered all the times Chanca had recently disappeared whenever they had landed at a harbor.

Especially in Challwala, he had come back more quickly than ever, and was clearly in a haste. Even more, he also remembered that piece of paper Chanca had shown him all the way back in Saniya's stock exchange, before they had even bought their first ship. Somehow, Sami had a feeling that they weren't here to look for pirates.

As if on queue, their lookout up in the crow's nest signaled down that a ship had been sighted to their south-south-east, traveling north along the coastline. When Sami came to the ship's bow to confirm, he saw exactly what he had dreaded, yet expected. In the distance, a familiar fleet of five Saniya galleons was traveling north, past the Thorns on its way to the northern kingdom.

"All hands on deck! Ready to intercept!" Sami called out immediately towards his quartermaster.

"All hands on deck! Ready to intercept!" Qawa repeated without question, as the quartermaster should. Only then did he turn towards Sami in confusion, to ask in a quieter voice the surrounding sailors wouldn't hear: "Captain, what's going on?"

"You'll see soon enough," Sami said, and added an exhausted sigh for good measure. Only a few seconds later, his expectations were confirmed. "You hear that, they're starting already."

As he spoke, Sami motioned over to the Kallpa, which had been hiding behind the reef next to them. Just now, the ship had suddenly reappeared from its cover, its sails unfurled. Not only were they fully ready to speed ahead, they also made no secret of their presence. Rather than hide, they blew their very own death whistle to spread terror across the seas and announce their intention to kill.

Where did Chanca even get these things? Sami wondered, while Qawa looked horrified.

"What's going on? What is the fool doing?" a shocked Qawa asked. In response, Sami could only shrug his shoulders and explain what his quartermaster should have known very well but was unwilling to accept.

"It seems we're pirates now," Sami said, as he himself tried his best to act calmly. After a second, he added in warning: "Just remember to never upset Chanca. He's got a long memory."

As Qawa still stood there confused, the nearby Kallpa had long begun to pick up speed. While her crew maneuvered around the Thorns in a smooth curve following the currents, she readied herself to pounce on the small merchant fleet like a predator in the jungle. Meanwhile, Sami had turned to his crew again, hoping that his quartermaster would catch up with his orders.

"Lift the anchor and man the cannons! Follow the Kallpa, and get ready for combat!"

The great admiral really won't let go of any grudges, even if they're not his own, Sami quietly complained, as Qawa repeated his orders and his crew whirred into motion, eager to catch up with their sister ship. Although Sami was unhappy with Chanca's selfish decision, one which thrust them into dangerous combat over pointless pride, his heart beat fast, and he couldn't stop his excitement.

As he watched his crew operate like clockwork, without a single word of complaint about their sudden change in status, he couldn't help feel pride himself, as well as anticipation. Maybe today, their income would be greater than all the hard work during the last few months combined. And maybe after today's events, his crew would finally become a coherent unit, rather than a loose collection of sailors. Though maybe, he was simply acting optimistic to drown out his fear of a sudden death.

Whatever the truth, at this point, Sami could only hope for the best.

__________________________

During the pirate attack east of Rasacopa — Sami's first ever naval battle — Sami had spectacularly embarrassed himself. To make up for it, he wanted to call this raid the second battle in his life, he really did. However, even with the most generous interpretation, he could never call what happened next a 'battle'. For that, their opponents would have had to put up at least some kind of resistance. Instead, it was nothing but a one-sided plunder.

Just how Sami's own crew had been in chaos when faced with pirates for the first time, chaos broke out among the little merchant fleet as soon as they spotted them. With all sails at full mast, the Suyana cleaved through the waves in a south-south-westerly direction. On a close-hauled course — diagonally into the wind — their small merchant ship showed astonishing agility. As the targets continued to move forward, their course would lead them straight into the center of the enemy formation, disrupting their arrangement and intercepting their route. During their approach, Sami observed the enemy crew through his telescope, ready to adjust his orders in case they organized a counterattack. However, he quickly realized that he didn't need to bother.

Faced with the approaching enemy, the two ships leading the fleet immediately steered away. Unfortunately, their new course only led them towards the coastline, where they would soon be stopped by the piers of the Thorn Fortress. It was the worst possible choice they could have made.

Not only did this course carry them away from the rest of their fleet and thus split them up, it also drove them into a corner. Even if they got closer to the understaffed fortress, their best hope was no reaction at all from the defenders. Worse, couldn't the locals think that these approaching ships were enemies and then attack them? In their arrogance, they were flying the flag of northern Medala, after all. Though even if they weren't attacked, their odds looked poor. With solid stone in front of them and the enemy behind, where else could they possibly go?

While the first two ships set off on a course to nowhere, the two ships right behind them rammed into each other in a splendid act of self-sabotage. During their maneuver — evasive or aggressive in nature, Sami couldn't say — both ships turned in opposite directions and ended up steering into each other. With a loud crunch, the bows of the two ships crashed together almost completely in parallel. Smashed wood planks and pieces of rope tangled together to create an unsolvable knot. With both ships now immobile, they slowly began to circle each other like two drunk dancers clinging on for dear life.

Finally, the last ship managed to react better than its allies, though only barely. With enough distance to the other ships, it didn't get tangled in the mess in front of it. Instead, it managed to turn, and then attempted to flee back south. The only problem, of course, was that their new course led them against the wind. Compared to the larger galleons of this merchant fleet, Sami's ship was more of a hybrid vessel and thus more weatherly. Even though their maneuver was successful, it would only be a matter of time before the Suyana caught up. Yet once again, Sami overestimated the quality of his opponents.

Just as Sami got ready to order a tacking maneuver to pursue the vessel upwind, he realized that his enemy hadn't done the same. In their panic, they had instead steered right into the wind and lost all of their speed. Thus they simply stood in place, and even swayed unstably, as the ship slowly moved backwards, in a direction it wasn't designed to travel.

Meanwhile, Sami could watch all of this chaos calmly, without any emotion, from a distance. Maybe his current mood matched what the pirates had felt while he had been scrambling around last time. He felt like he was in charge, like he had complete control over the lives on the opposite ships. Acting, rather than reacting, was a much more comfortable position to be in, he decided.

Soon after, their agile ship managed to catch up to the paralyzed and confused fleet of the enemy. While Chanca was hunting down the two ships in front — and while the two in the center were clearly not going anywhere — Sami decided that the Suyana would turn south to hunt the remaining mobile ship first

Due to their angle of approach, the Suyana was still beating windward, roughly south-east against the wind at an angle their sails could just about support. As a result, their speed wasn't bad as they approached the almost stationary enemy vessel. Once they were within firing range, it only took two warning salvos from their starboard cannons for their enemies to signal surrender.

Although reaching the ship was easy, boarding and controlling it took a good while longer. When they threw hooks to tether the enemy ship to theirs and ready for boarding, the sailors suddenly regained their courage and attempted to cut the ropes. By that point, however, their resistance came far too late. Eventually, the first of Sami's crew managed to jump across the gap to the enemy vessel, quickly followed by Sami himself.

In all honesty, he had never been in any fight larger than a brawl, but he was still the captain. Thus, all he could do was pick up a cutlass and act like he knew what he was doing. Luckily, everyone else on the ship was as confused as he was. From stern to bow, the entirety of the merchant vessel was in chaos.

By the time Sami arrived, small fights had broken out all over the ship's main deck. Yet to the captain's surprise, his own men were barely involved. Instead, the local sailors were mostly fighting each other in what looked like an unplanned mutiny. Some were screaming about loyalty, while others screamed about money. Either way, Sami would be a fool if he didn't take advantage of their division.

"Men to me!" he shouted and held his weapon aloft. Soon, a small troop of armed sailors had assembled around him, enough to suppress any individual group aboard the ship. Thus, they cleaned up all the small fights one by one. Usually, it only took their mere presence for all parties to drop their weapons. Throughout his pacifying crusade, there was almost no resistance from the enemy crew. Until the fighting stopped and the crew and ship were under Sami's full control, only a single sailor under his care ended up with a minor injury.

In the end, fastening their newly captured ship onto their own was more difficult and tiresome than the fight had been. Eventually, they completed an awkward turn into the wind and proceeded to drag their spoils back north, where at least two more ships were waiting for their collection.

Hermit's Notes: Chapter 500!!! Honestly never thought I'd get this far. Let's hope for another 500 more (or however long it'll take me to finish).

Chapter 499 - Traveling the North

Sami's journey from Saniya to Hueatlan had been wrought with difficulties, yet filled with excitement. On their route to Rasacopa, they had to navigate the complex waters of the Verdant Isles, which had been a great challenge for their inexperienced crews and captains. Beyond the Verdant Isles, they had experienced the vast, empty Verduic Sea, which had truly taxed the crew's morale and the quartermaster's navigational skills.

Not only did such a journey require intimate knowledge of the local geography — as well as advanced navigational tools — it also led them through quite possibly the most pirate-infested waters in the world. In fact, their route was brand-new, and had only existed for a few years. Not too long ago, traveling directly from southern Medala to Chutwa via the Verdant Isles had been considered impossible.

In the past, fear of pirates had prevented anyone from daring such a route. Even now that Saniya had managed to control much of the islands, this fear was only somewhat relieved. Without a fast and sturdy ship like their galleons, armed to the teeth with modern cannons, they could have never attempted the route.

Even beyond the threat of pirates, older ships hadn't been physically capable of taking this path in the first place. Only the new galleons had a large build with a deep draught, resistant to the mighty storms of the high seas east of Chutwa. Finally, new tools like spirit compass and sextant had made travel across the open sea without any coastlines or islands in sight a possibility for the first time in history.

Thus, a series of political developments and technological innovations had finally allowed them to take the direct route to Chutwa, a trip worth telling in tales. Of course, that didn't even mention their personal journey yet, their battle against the pirates, the battle of the Deep Well, or their trip to Saniya's secret Chutwa Glaze manufactories in Hueatlan.

In comparison to such adventures, their return trip was downright banal, as it had led them along the traditional safe route traveled by the Yaku people for countless generations. Without any proper navigational tools, their ancestors had been forced to travel all the way north, and then east along the southern shores of the Great Mountains north of the Twin Isles, which were often called the Ch'unchu Mountains - mountains of the barbarians - even though they were really just a continuation of the Sallqata Mountain Range which ran through Medala from south to north.

Not only had navigation along the shore prevented them from losing their way, their proximity to land had also guaranteed them protection from pirates. Those lawless bandits were far less likely to attack near civilization, where the powerful fleets of local lords could teach them the value of an honest day's work. Of course, there were always some who took great risks for profit, but with the development of the new Verduic route and the subsequent reduction in trade along the north, even such foolhardy attacks had ceased almost entirely.

Thus unburdened by any further interference, Sami and Chanca set off from Hueatlan and traveled north along the eastern coastline of Chutwa, until they reached the many Chutwa tributary states in its north-east. All along the way, Chanca would disappear at every harbor, to 'collect information', as he claimed.

Since Sami had nothing better to do, he did the same. Throughout their journey back, he compiled notes on the customs and economies of the various countries which surrounded the Verduic Sea. From east to west, they passed the tributaries of Chichitlaca, Tetzotzontl and Tequitlali. Every time they docked, another chapter was added to Sami's little notebook. Eventually, they found themselves at the mouth of Mullu Bay, with the barbarian lands of the mighty Ch'unchu Mountain Range to their north and the 'enlightened' Scholarly Kingdom of Northern Medala to their south.

Compared to their visits to other ports, their stop in Challwala was largely unremarkable, apart from the city's foreign influence. Where Hueatlan looked more medalan than Sami had expected from a Chutwa town, Challwala looked more chutwa-ish — though he wasn't sure that was a word — than he had thought.

Not only did the buildings look less inviting than at any other port they had seen, Challwala also lacked the meticulous guest service all the other ports had provided. Even during their visit in the Chutwa tributary states — which were quite hostile to outsiders — they had at the very least found basic accommodations for merchants who were docking at the ports. If nothing else, they could always find a soothing drink, a warm meal and a dry bed for a price. Some wholesalers and other basic infrastructure to do their business would also be a given, since these countries had gone through centuries of trade with the outside world. If they didn't cater to their guests at least a little, how would the local money men do business?

In contrast, most people in Challwala wouldn't even deign talk to them after they had gone ashore. When they weren't ignored, they were met with open disdain and hostility. Although he managed to find a cold and dingy tavern which would serve him drinks, no one would tell Sami anything no matter how much he asked. They wouldn't even accept the free drinks he offered. Apparently, here alone, the old traditions of Medala — which had always despised merchants as an even lower class than peasants — were still alive and well. Compounded with the disdain the local scholars had for medalans in general, it became impossible to gain anything of value here.

As usual, Chanca had disappeared in the city as soon as they had docked at the harbor. This time however, he returned soon, and ordered to speed up their unloading process. Apparently, even Ekkoko's connections were useless in this northern land which was now so heavily restrained by the power of the scholars.

Since no one in this place was willing to talk to them, there was nothing to gain from staying here much longer anyways. From the large number of soldiers on the streets alone, Sami could surmise the heightened scrutiny towards outsiders. Of course, the presence of soldiers, and the overall tense atmosphere, also made him a lot less eager to press his luck and snoop around, just in case the locals mistook him for a spy.

Thus, they quickly sold all their loaded goods before they got into trouble. Although the people here didn't seem to like them, they had no problem accepting the treasures they had brought along. After all, they were carrying two cargo holds filled to the brim with precious luxury goods from Chutwa, even though some of them were fake. Still, the desirable goods were quickly sold to local merchants who were none the wiser, at ludicrous prices at that. After their transaction was completed, Sami and Chanca left as quickly as they had arrived.

Since there was no need to load any more goods, they soon set off for the south, their holds filled with gold and silver. After all, were they to convert all the money they had made so far back into traded goods, the amount would be too much to fit into their limited cargo holds. Only if they bought goods which were more valuable by weight than silver would they be able to load all of them. However, nothing the north was producing was valuable enough, and at the same time in sufficiently high demand back home. Even the valuable coral jewelry of Challwala wouldn't match gold by weight, and they could only buy a limited amount, unless they planned to make an extended stay here and scrape together all the local supplies.

Thus, rather than waste their time and risk complications, they simply carried their coins back home. Back in Saniya, they would use their newly gained wealth to add new ships to their fleet and then repeat their first, successful journey at a larger scale. Soon, they would grow into large merchants themselves, men who would never have to worry about money anymore. By now, Sami had made his peace with his new profession. He no longer thought back to his times as a craftsman, and he no longer felt inadequate, or like a fraud, whenever he gave orders to his men or whenever he didn't help them with physical tasks. At this point, he had truly regained his previously lost nerves, as well as his old confidence. Still, despite the new-found comfort in his new role, it simply wasn't in his nature to be lazy.

Thus, early in the morning when the stars were still barely visible, he stood at the bow of his ship and confirmed their course with a sextant. Of course, they simply had to follow the coastline south until they reached the Narrow Sea, so they wouldn't get lost even if he didn't do anything. However, it was still good practice for the inexperienced captain, especially at dawn, when the stars were harder to spot.

As he stared out towards the depths of the sky, he couldn't help but think of Ulan, who was waiting for him beyond the horizon, in their new home. He couldn't wait to come back and tell her of their great success. He wanted nothing more than to share their joy, just how they had shared their sorrow before. Truly, he would have been fully contented, with his mind completely at ease, had there not been that one thing around still bothering him.

"Hey, how come you are always stuck on my ship when I'm busy? Why are you never on your own? I thought you were a captain, too," Sami complained as he put down the navigational tool. When he didn't receive an answer straight away, he turned and stared at the man who was lazily leaned against the railing next to him: His friend Chanca, whose constant presence had steadily turned into a nuisance in recent days.

"It's admiral, not captain," Chanca corrected him after he tore his eyes away from the red clouds along the horizon. "And I don't do a thing worth anything on my own ship anyways. If I didn't hang out here, I would just feel useless. What am I supposed to do over there anyways, bother those paid hands?"

"So instead, you've come over here to bother me?" an annoyed Sami asked.

"Exactly." Chanca grinned, oblivious of or indifferent towards his friend's true thoughts.

But I also have work to do, the annoyed captain lamented in his head. Throughout the second half of their journey, Chanca had spent almost every moment on land hiding away in taverns and other shady establishments. Yet almost every moment on water, he spent here, on Sami's ship.

Meanwhile, Chanca's 'Kallpa' was entirely being run by Ekkoko's men, without their captain's involvement. From what he had heard from the ship's crew, Chanca's presence over there had been less than helpful, though he didn't know how much of that was just because they didn't want anyone with authority around. Either way, in the face of an unhappy and uncooperative crew, Chanca's tactical retreat made sense. Still, as he watched the great admiral with the carefree smile hum a song into the wind, Sami couldn't help but get upset.

"You know, if you spent less time bothering me, and more time learning your new trade, you wouldn't have to rely on me to chart our course all the time," he finally couldn't help but say. After all, what kind of damage to their reputation would it do if his friend let himself get chased off his own ship that easily? Without authority, a captain's title was useless, or even dangerous. There was no police at sea. No one could prove that a mutiny had occurred if the crew simply threw their bodies overboard.

"If I didn't rely on you, who else would I rely on?" Chanca asked back. The careless retort only served to annoy Sami more. Thus, he only returned a critical stare, until Chanca couldn't take the silence any more and finally added: "Okay, in fact, I've been busy with other tasks on the side. I had no time to learn all this sailor stuff. Isn't it smarter if we split our work, instead of doing everything twice? You handle the sailing, and I handle the rest. As for gaining the crew's respect — and making father's men listen for once — I already have a plan for that one too."

That much, Sami didn't doubt. At least, he was certain Chanca had been disappearing at every port for more than just girls and drink after a few boring days at sea. After their talk on Rasacopa, he realized that Chanca was doing a lot of work in places he couldn't see, even if Sami didn't always consider that work worthwhile. Since his friend seemed to believe that he had found a way to be useful, and a way to regain control of his crew again, it was certainly worth asking more.

"Then, what is it you have been up to this time?" Sami thus took the bait.

"With some luck, you'll get to find out soon," Chanca pretended to be mysterious. His smile grew even more annoying in the process. Yet before Sami could complain again, the admiral added: "By the way, how good do you know the area around here? Our route, I mean."

"You mean along the medalan west coast? I know it as well as any other part of our route, as well as I can without seeing it for myself. Why?" a confused Sami asked. However, Chanca seemed to have no interest in answering his question.

"You know any good places to hide, or to ambush someone?" he asked back instead.

"Why?" Sami repeated, ever more confused.

"You'll see," Chanca repeated as well. This time however, Sami just returned a stare he thought would be particularly piercing. Why was this guy playing around again, even when Sami was just trying to help out with his plan? Was acting mysterious really more important than having a clear plan?

After a prolonged silence, Chanca finally pushed off the railing and turned towards Sami. He even dropped his annoying grin, and instead looked serious as he said: "Come on, humor me for once."

Against his better judgment, Sami finally put away the sextant and relented.

"Fine, come with me," he said, and led his friend towards the captain's quarters, where he had stored their maps.

Hermit's Notes: Gonna post two chapters today, and then another two tomorrow, to finish up this little arc and be all caught up again.

Chapter 498 - Strings

The more Sami saw of Hueatlan, the less it matched his established image of a Chutwa town. At the harbor and around the town's edges, the town still had looked old-fashioned, almost frozen in time. Many of the buildings looked like they had stood there for centuries, or possibly even longer, with thick layers of discolored mud and grime layered atop their walls, or with thick moss growing along their sides. If he hadn't known any better, he would have thought that these buildings had been around since the dawn of time itself.

However, even there, some of the piers had looked newly built. The officials had been quick-witted and well-organized, ready to receive foreign trade, much unlike Sami's image of a stuffy, closed-off country. Rather than being closed off, numerous ships from Saniya and the Verdant Isles had already been docked at the port when they had arrived. Everything he had experienced since he had entered town had been far beyond Sami's previous understanding of this old country.

Yet this impression got even stronger when he and Chanca traveled deeper into Hueatlan. The closer they came to the city center, the more new buildings he saw. Although they were still blocky stone constructions, they had clearly been rebuilt recently, with new, sometimes even glossy stones. Some of the new buildings even had open yards like those of Medala, rather than high walls like a fortress.

All in all, the town's image was a lot more accommodating than he had assumed before their arrival, though the straight roads and large, yet somehow cramped buildings still felt a lot more restrictive than anything he was used to in Saniya. Still, even here, there were places which could match any in Saniya in comfort.

One of the most accommodating — as well as the most puzzling — among them was a strange shop in the best position in the town's main market square.

"This is too convenient, right?" a baffled Sami commented to himself as he looked over the wares in the shop.

The entire lower floor of the building was one large hall filled with rows upon rows of shelves. Within these endless rows, he could find Chutwa tea and silk, precious handicrafts made from silver and gold, as well as all the other luxury products Chutwa was so famous for.

Lined up here were the very goods which had made this empire so immeasurably rich, and also the ones which had made it the main target for trade ships from all across the world. However, there was only a single piece of each item, together with a number next to it. Some of the goods were even locked away behind clear glass from Saniya, with no way to handle them at all. Everything looked well-organized, but it also looked nothing like a traditional shop.

As he looked around some more, Sami didn't spot a single customer who wore one of the locals' broad shoulder pads. The only locals seemed to be the handful of shopkeepers who eagerly offered their services to anyone entering the front door. For what it was worth, Sami and Chanca had declined the offer, since they wanted to look around before some overly clever salesman could force his subpar goods onto them. However, other customers had gladly taken these shopkeepers up on their offers. Although there were no local customers present here, there were still plenty of foreigners like them.

Three other groups of foreign merchants sat in comfortable seating arrangements hidden behind precious silken sight blockers, which were painted with pictures of two-headed roosters and mountains with eyeballs. Despite the strange imagery, these blockers alone would be worth a fortune.

Within such luxurious privacy, the customers enjoyed precious Chutwa tea and a large spread of various delicacies for free, while the shopkeepers presented them with one luxury good after another, eager to sell their wares at the best possible price.

Very clearly, this shop wasn't intended for use by the locals. Everything here had been specifically designed to attract foreign merchants, all in an effort to extract as much money out of them as possible. Even the numbers next to the goods were written not only in the old Chutwa script, but even in modern Yakua, a written script which had only been invented by their king a few years prior, one which had hardly spread beyond of the limits of the southern kingdom so far.

"Why is being convenient a problem?" Chanca asked, as he held up a bronze mirror with gold decorations. He bit the metal to check its quality, before he mumbled: "It's better for us if it's convenient, right?"

"I don't know. Convenience comes at a price, usually," Sami tried to articulate his unease. "I fear they won't offer us a good deal for all those fancy goods here. I also bet there won't be any other shops like this one in the entire city. So even if we don't like their prices, we'll have to take them."

Chanca finally took the expensive mirror out of his mouth and looked at Sami in confusion. He didn't even bother with the panicked shopkeeper who rushed over to tear the precious piece of art out of his hands. In response to his friend's inquisitive look, Sami sighed and pointed at a banner emblazoned with an unknown Chutwa language character.

"Look over there," he said, and looked sideways at the shopkeeper who was putting the mirror back on its intended place on the shelf. "I asked one of those guys earlier while you were busy biting stuff. That's the banner of the local Huemac family, the lords of this estate. That means this shop is owned by the local lord. I guarantee you he won't allow any competition in his city, and I also guarantee you that he'll do whatever he can to shake as many coins out of us as possible."

In Medala, merchants were held in very low regard. Thus, few nobles would ever directly get involved in the trading business. Sami had assumed that this would be also be the case in Chutwa. Yet here, the local lord didn't mind using his personal banner to decorate a mere merchant's walls. Even more, it felt like all merchant operations in the city were secretly being controlled from the lord's manor. How else could they be so well coordinated?

As soon as foreign ships docked, the merchants aboard were greeted by locals — who operated in an extremely professional manner — willing to assess and buy their goods. Then, there was a dedicated shop like this, specifically designed for all their purchasing needs. So, while they were still waiting to get paid for their goods, they were already encouraged to spend all of their earnings again, in a very pleasant and convenient manner.

Although Chutwa was known for its strong central power, with the Immortal Emperor at the very center, this still felt different from what Sami had expected. Rather than the ancient country in the grip of a tyrannical ruling class, this city felt modern somehow, comparable to Saniya in many ways.

If nothing else, this entire trading setup was an effective way to stack the odds in the favor of the local lord. To Sami, it somehow felt like something Medala's own King Corcopaca might arrange, though he couldn't really articulate why he felt that way. Yet as he thought more about his surroundings and their purpose, he noticed something else.

"Aren't there any everyday goods?" he thus asked. "There is cloth, but nothing cheap. Everything is silk, and satin, and expensive furs. Where is the wool, or the cotton? And I haven't seen any staple foods or cheaper pottery offered either. Maybe there's a separate shop for bulk goods?"

As he was talking to himself, Sami tried to make sense of the strange shop yet again. Maybe, in order to preserve the dignified atmosphere of this luxury store, they sold bulk goods like grain, cloth, or salt in another place. Maybe they were also being sold directly from the warehouses at the harbor, without all the little tricks surrounding these luxury goods. After all, anyone who came to Chutwa for bulk goods wouldn't have much money to extract in the first place. However, before Sami could express his theories, Chanca had already denied them.

"No, I don't think so," he said. "Father said that you can't buy cheap goods from Chutwa, only the pricey stuff."

"What do you mean, 'you can't buy cheap goods'? You don't mean 'we shouldn't', do you? Rather, you're saying they're not even selling them in the first place? Does that mean they don't produce any here? Or they only produce enough for themselves? Or maybe there's a ban on the sale of these goods to guarantee food supplies," Sami guessed one after another. However, to his predictable disappointment, Chanca only shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't know. Father just said that, as far as Chutwa's concerned, cheap stuff goes in, and pricey stuff goes out. That's all. The pricey stuff pays better anyways. To me, that sounds good for us."

And to me, that sounds almost like someone in Saniya came up this, Sami thought.

Indeed, this entire setup had produced an unbelievably convenient trade route for all Saniya merchants. They could load cheap, bulk materials in their home port, then upgrade the value of their hold in the Verdant Isles by buying new mass-consumption goods like cheap cloth. Finally, they would sell the large volume of goods in Hueatlan for massive profits, and then use those profits to load up on luxury products here.

However, Sami felt that there was more to this whole setup than a simple maximization of profits. As the merchants moved back and forth between Chutwa and Medala, they would bring in cheap things for the common people at the bottom of the Chutwa Empire, while they would take away expensive luxury goods for the wealthy. He couldn't quite explain it, but somehow this approach felt unbalanced, as if it was bound to cause problems sooner or later.

And there was one more thing he noticed as he looked across the wares in the shop.

"Where's the Chutwa Glaze, by the way? Isn't Chutwa famous for its shell craft?"

The question elicited an arrogant laugh from Chanca.

"That one, I can answer. You wanted to know what happens to the shell craft we bought, right?" he asked, a crooked grin on his face. "Follow me, I'll show you something good."

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In a small warehouse in Hueatlan's harbor district, a bizarre procedure was taking place. Sami saw the box he had seen in Chanca's cargo hold before — the one containing the shell craft from Saniya — get opened. Then, one by one, the precious cups and bowls were extracted from the filling straw, which was meant to protect the fragile cargo on its journey. After, the bottom sides of those same dishes were stamped with a precious blue color. The stamp printed yet another Chutwa character Sami couldn't read, but it sure seemed imposing. Finally, the shell craft was set down next to a fire for a short while to dry the ink, before it was promptly returned to the same box it had just left, and the box was simply closed up again.

If he only looked at it step by step, Sami could tell exactly what the people here were doing every step of the way. Yet when he put all of their actions together, he had no idea what the point of any of this was. Surely, ruining their shell craft with a stamp would only reduce its value, right? In the end, Sami could really only comment one thing.

"What, in the endless depths of the underworld, is going on here?"

In response, Chanca next to him once again laughed arrogantly and finally revealed his master plan, or rather, his father-in-law's.

"They're turning our cheap shell craft from Saniya into priceless Chutwa glaze, that's what's going in. Once it's Chutwa glaze, we can sell the same pot for five times the price up north," he explained. Although Sami finally knew what these workers were doing, the explanation made him only more confused.

"But why do all that extra work?" the baffled Sami asked. "Why not just send the glaze straight north to Sinchay, tell the northerners that it's from Chutwa, and just sell it for the higher price? We're lying anyways, right?"

"I have no idea. Something about legal security, and origin tracing?" Chanca scratched his head as he responded with a troubled look. Just as Sami opened his mouth to ask, Chanca quickly added: "Don't ask me what any of that means. I have no idea."

I guess that father of yours told you stuff again, Sami guessed. Either way, there was no point trying to figure out why Saniya would be making such a strange arrangement with the locals here. Though another question troubled Sami even more.

"Fine... but... what exactly is in it for the people here?" he asked, as he gestured towards the workers who were busily transforming their shell craft into Chutwa Glaze. "All this just seems like extra work for no benefit. I mean, they don't actually earn any money from the glaze we bring them, and it even prevents them from selling their own glaze."

Sami thought back to the shop, where no Chutwa Glaze was being sold.

"I assume they get a cut somewhere," Chanca just said, and added another shrug. "If you wanna know why they'd agree to a big scam like this in the first place, then here's something you might not know." Eager to share the rare instance of actual knowledge on his part, Chanca got closer and whispered in Sami's ear: "The wife of the local lord is apparently our miracle king's sister."

"No wonder."

Finally, things began to make sense for Sami. The strange way their wares had been handled, the shops designed for foreign merchants to buy luxury goods brought in from all over Chutwa, and this strange operation with the shell craft, which turned out to be nothing but an elaborate scam.

All of this hadn't grown naturally, out of the interests of eager merchants. Instead, it was all set up on purpose, by the lord of this land, in cooperation with the king of southern Medala. Their purpose was of course only one, to extract the maximum value possible from outsiders and enrich themselves in the process.

In this setup, both the lord of Xallisco and the merchants of the southern kingdom would gain great wealth. While the merchants bought cheap luxury goods — brought to Hueatlan from all over the rest of Chutwa — and sold them for a massive profit in the two northern kingdoms of Medala, they also brought cheap consumption goods from Medala and the Verdant Isles, which the locals could sell on in the rest of Chutwa with massive upside as well.

Meanwhile, the merchants from Saniya would take their wealth back to Saniya, where they would pay taxes or invest in more ships or manufactories. Ultimately, such an operation would strengthen the southern kingdom and thus benefit the king more than anyone.

Without anyone's notice, the lords of these distant lands had cooperated to build a system which would slowly suck the blood of their competitors to strengthen themselves, and over a vast distance to boot. More impressively, without an insider like Chanca's father-in-law Ekkoko, Sami would have never even known about it. The more he thought, the more he felt in awe of this grand plan, a plan which stretched across the entirety of the Verduic Sea, and maybe even beyond, where his eyes couldn't yet reach.

Although he still felt like he was missing pieces of the puzzle, although he still felt like there was even more going on behind the veil, he couldn't help but once again scold himself for his own arrogance. Not only had Chanca's purchase of shell craft in Medala been a smart idea — against his prior beliefs, it would produce the highest profits out of any cargo they had loaded in Saniya — the Chutwa people also didn't seem quite as stony and inflexible as he had previously thought. If nothing else, they had managed to outsmart both him, and the entire northern half of Medala.

Chapter 497 - Squares

On the day after the great battle of the Old Well, Sami forced his weary body back out of his hammock and off the ship to explore the city of Jurau. Over the next few days, as his face slowly turned from red to blue to black, he and Chanca visited the cloth wholesalers of Rasacopa to compare prices. Yet before they made a final decision on where they would reinvest their hard-earned coin, they extended their travels to places all across the city, as well as several spots outside. Through their extended trip, they aimed to get a better feel for the local conditions. Their ultimate goal, of course, was to make a more informed purchase. Though to satisfy Chanca, they also didn't forego the chance to enjoy the local sights for a bit.

First, they visited the vast cotton fields in the south-east of Rasacopa, between Jurau and Amchay Point, the south-eastern most part of the island. A vast network of rivers originated in the jungles around this area, which then combined and flowed towards Jurau, where it emptied into the green sea.

Since transportation of labor and lumber was the cheapest and least complicated around the rivers, the forest had been methodically cut down along their flow, and then the underbrush would be burned to remove the leftovers. After, the now-empty land of high-quality soil was divided into parcels for farming, all of which were collectively owned and run by newly built villages. It was a method of organization quite similar to what Sami had heard from locals around Saniya.

According to the local farmers, many of whom had come from Medala for the free land, the soil here was of outstanding quality, even without the use of fertilizer. Apparently, they weren't only growing cotton, but also some basic grain, as well as all kinds of exotic fruits and vegetables. Still, the cotton, as well as a strange grass — which was supposedly used for medicine — occupied the biggest portion of the plantation area. The cotton harvests from these farms were then transported along freshly built cement roads and irrigation canals all the way back to the river system, where they entered the many textile mills built along the shores to make use of the water power.

As Sami had expected, this operation was very similar to that in Saniya as well, where the areas around the Mayura River also formed the main industrial hub of the city, and even the entire kingdom. Small landowners would do farming to provide raw materials, which were then refined in large manufactories. Most of these large workshops were either owned by the government or big merchants, though recently, there had been an upsurge in cooperatives in Saniya. As far as Sami could tell, this was a development which hadn't reached Rasacopa quite yet. Though with or without worker cooperatives, the entire system had a comforting feeling of order to it, and at the center of this order stood the rivers, in good Yaku tradition.

Not only did these rivers allow for easy transportation of goods and raw materials. More importantly, the power of the rivers allowed for the use of power tools, which were the main difference between ordinary workshops and these large manufactories.

Just how Sami had seen automatic machines turn wood into rods or hammer steel into bars in Medala, here he saw machines which automatically spun thread or weaved cloth. Of course, these machines still needed human help to operate. However, the skilled hands of a single craftsman could lead such a machine to do the work of ten. As the gears and levers whirred around in dizzying motions to replace human effort, they created a mesmerizing image. For Sami it was certainly worth the bribe to the local overseers, just to get a peek into the government facility. Though even after their generous donation to the locals, they were constantly monitored while they were inside and could only see the machines from a long distance away, without a chance to study them up close. Just how Sami had expected, the vigilance towards spies was just as high in this place as it had been back home.

While Chanca couldn't do much with the view inside the manufactory, for Sami, it represented an inevitable future. Better yet, it was a future he could participate in, one he could use to further elevate his status in Medala's society. Just how the big merchants had suddenly risen in status during Saniya's first phase of construction — and just how they had then solidified their status during the lightning revolution — Sami was determined to be part of the second group of upstarts. At least in his mind, this group was sure to appear with the speed of Medala's current growth.

As he watched those spinning and weaving machines operate with the same order he had seen outside, he felt like this could be his way towards his goal. Though first, he would have to make his own trading business a success and earn enough money for the initial investment.

Thus, after quickly checking out the road which was meant to lead towards the newly discovered mines in the forests west of Jurau — they had only just begun construction and there wasn't much to see yet — there was no need to check any further. After a quick stop to stare at Jurau's famous fire jugglers — supposedly a religious practice, though to Sami it just looked like a good magic trick — they moved on with their original purpose. After all, they still had to face a long journey full of challenges before they could return back to Saniya with a cargo hold full of gold and silver.

After they had sold off their fertilizer and soap, they loaded many bulk consumption goods for the next leg of their journey. Though, bizarrely, Chanca still hadn't sold his shell craft.

After their ships were filled with many tons of cheap cotton cloth, a material they had finally decided on after comparing prices all across the city, they filled out the rest of their ships' capacity with some higher-quality cloth and local timber. Such diversification would lower their risk, just in case — against all odds — the cheap cloth would be difficult to sell in Chutwa. It would also get them a better feel for the value of the local wood resources — as well as their value overseas — in case they wanted to invest in that area in the future. After their money had been spent and their cargo holds were full again, they finally moved on with their journey.

On their way to Chutwa, they traveled ever farther west, which brought them ever farther away from the southern kingdom's center of power. Even so, their trip, strangely, felt safer than before. As they sailed beyond Rasacopa and through the western parts of the Verdant Isles, they saw a lot more medalan galleons, both merchant and military vessels.

Maybe, Sami thought, many merchants were visiting different Verdant Isles than Rasacopa to pick up different goods, but they finally all converged on the same route on their way to the Chutwa Empire. After all, the ancient empire had long been considered a true land of prosperity for any merchant, a place where the roads were plastered with gold and any man could get rich from just one visit.

Though Saniya's navy presumably wasn't only here to protect these merchants. Sami also believed that the navy fleets were focusing their pirate eradicating efforts on western Medala at the moment.

To reinforce this conjecture, they also traveled past several fortified defenses — and even a proper fortress — placed on the Bat Islands. The more he saw, the more he felt like the southern kingdom was slowly getting the pirate problem under control. Even further west, in the open waters east of Chutwa, they didn't encounter any trouble either. He didn't know if it was because the pirates had been scared away by the navy's presence or if they had just been lucky, but after the last, chaotic encounter with a Verduic warship, he was happy that they wouldn't have to tempt their luck again.

Thus, after a few more uneventful days, they eventually laid port in Hueatlan, an insignificant town in an insignificant province on the easternmost shore of the Chutwa Empire.

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If Sami had to describe the difference between the Verdant Folk and the people of Chutwa, he would say that the former were made of wood, while the latter were made of stone.

Like the wood of their ships, the Verdant Folk were naturals in water. Like the wood of their houses, they were flexible and malleable, able to easily adjust to all kinds of changes and lifestyles. And like the trees which surrounded their homes, they were closely in tune with nature.

Meanwhile, everything about the Chutwa people was stocky, hard-hearted, and, most peculiarly, square.

Even their fashion, from the helmets of their armies to the big shoulder pads and wide robes which seemed to be popular around here, made them look as square as the boxes the Suyana was carrying in her cargo hold. To match their fashion, their houses were stocky cubes of stone, surrounded by square walls, with small, square windows which barely let through any light. Truly, the choice of building material adequately reflected the different natures of these two peoples.

As Sami made such idle musings, he stood inside one of those stone cubes, and watched through one of those small stone windows as their crew unloaded their goods.

When they had docked at the harbor of Hueatlan — the capital of the Xallisco province — an extremely helpful official of the local lord had stood ready to greet them. As if they had been expected long in advance, the official had accepted all of their goods without any bargaining, offering them an excellent price for everything. Afterwards, Sami and Chanca had been led into a prepared guest room at the harbor. Here, they were to wait while all of their cargo was being counted and then moved into a warehouse. Of course, they were also free to leave and enjoy the city if they didn't care to supervise the process. Even a guide had been offered.

Although the entire process had been quite convenient, Sami also found it unnerving. Compared to everything that happened before, this part of their journey was going far too smoothly, almost as if something bad was bound to happen soon. Worst of all, he didn't like how it seemed like the people here already knew everything about them, while they themselves knew nothing about these Hueatlan officials in turn.

"So they'll just handle everything for us like this?" Sami asked Chanca, in hopes that his friend knew more than him. After all, his father-in-law had planned out a lot of their trip already. Most likely, this was just another step in Ekkoko's plan, and these officials had been informed by the gangster in advance. However, Chanca's response disappointed him.

"Seems like it," he just replied. Since his friend either didn't want to talk about Ekkoko's plan or didn't know any more than him, Sami didn't ask any further and just trusted that Chanca knew what he was doing.

"Shouldn't we help out with the unloading?" he asked instead. "Or at least check on the work of those officials, so none of our cargo gets lost anywhere?"

Just sitting here and doing nothing, Sami felt like he was losing control. Not to mention that he couldn't shake the feeling that these officials were up to no good. Although he knew that it was unnecessary, he still thought he had to do something. Predictably, the careless Chanca didn't appreciate the extra work.

"What are you checking?" he asked. "You know how much we had stored, right?"

"Of course. The archive is the most well-defended place on my entire ship. And I can tell you the contents of our cargo hold down to the gram," Sami said with pride rising in his chest.

"Then just count the money later, compare it with the price they offered and the amount we had stored, and then see if anything's missing," Chanca simply said. Of course, Sami also understood as much, but he just didn't want to sit idly by and watch others work for him. It made him uneasy. Still, he couldn't think of another excuse to join in, at least not for the moment.

"Fine, I won't bother then," he relented.

"As I said, you're working too hard." Chanca stood up and stretched his back before he added: "Come on, while our guys are earning their pay, let's check out a city of the famous Chutwa Empire. I want to see if the roads are really made of gold. And maybe we can check if there's anything good we can buy here."

Gratified that his friend had found something to do for them, Sami also stood up from his square seat made of hard wood with no cushioning. Indeed, before they would get all the money from their Verdant Isles goods, they had to determine their next cargo so they could spend it right away and not waste any time. Curious to explore the strange town of this powerful empire, Sami followed his friend out of the square door into the square city.

Chapter 496 - Checking Out the Locale

"So Rasacopa cloth is our next product then," Sami concluded.

"Yeah," Chanca confirmed. "I didn't get to ask more stuff because those drunks lunged at me for no good reason, but at least they told me about some big wholesalers on the island, so we know where to go if we want to buy some. So tomorrow, we'll go to the right place and get the stuff. But I don't trust the drunks, not after what they did. So first, we find out if their prices are really good, and if their cloth isn't just bad. I'll need your eyes for that, cause I have no idea about anything. Then our guys can load everything while we check out the local daughters."

Sami wisely chose to ignore the last sentence from a man married into a gangster's family. Instead, he tried to add to Chanca's vague, incomplete plan.

"Maybe we should look around the island and check out their operations first, just to get a feel for everything. We can also talk with some of the local workers and supervisors while we're there. The more we know, the harder it will be to trick us."

"That's fine," Chanca replied. "Still, I won't work all day. If we have to stay an extra day, we will, but I'll have to check out the local customs too, if you know what I mean."

"You know, for a second there, I almost thought you were being responsible," Sami replied, now much calmer than before. Neither his anger, nor his earlier anxiety were still there.

Throughout their conversation, he had gotten a better and better feel for his friend's own position. Clearly, Chanca's father-in-law was a controlling figure, but the son himself seemed eager to prove himself, and to break free from Ekkoko's influence. For that, he needed help from someone, anyone who wasn't one of his father-in-law's men already. Sami, the only guy he still knew since before he came to Saniya, became his best support.

Thus, Sami himself realized more and more that not only had his efforts over the past month not been wasted, his friend also hadn't just taken him along on this journey out of pity. Instead, both of them had their own problems, and they both needed help from each other to solve them. Although he wouldn't get excited about his friend's troubles, this mutual arrangement felt much better than the one-sided pity he had assumed all this time.

With his confidence restored, none of Sami's previous issues mattered anymore. Not to mention, he had clearly misunderstood Chanca in the first place. Rather than just slack off and slowly drink himself to death, his friend had also studied up quite a bit. Who knew how much of the time at the harbor he had spent to learn the ropes just like Sami had. Today, he had found out a lot about Rasacopa, too. Among them were many things Sami himself wanted to learn as well.

"So is there anything else of interest that's happened in the Verdant Isles? What else did you hear?"

Since Chanca had clearly learned a lot from those drinkers, there was a good chance he knew more than what he had told so far. Thus, Sami asked just in case. In response, his friend thought for a moment, before he actually confirmed Sami's guess.

"Well, those drunks gossiped about more rumors than I can remember. If you wanna hear those, I can give you as many as you can stomach." Chanca laughed, but continued when he saw that Sami was listening eagerly. "Some green woman's maid has had some affair with some officer or something? I don't know, someone is sleeping with someone anyways. They sounded important, but the gossip sounded worthless. Those highborn folk have nothing to do with us. But in the west, they've found some useful stuff in the ground, the drunks say. Don't think it's silver or copper, but it's something. Seems like it's too deep in the forest though, so it's hard to get. Now they're sending all those poor bastards to clear trees and build roads to that place. That way, whoever survives that part gets to start digging a mine straight away, lucky them. The drunks say that's the reason they've been hunting the pirates more these days: They need more free workers for their mines. Poor bastards."

"Not sure about the pirate stuff or the gossip with the maid, but those mines sound like something we should keep an eye on," Sami commented. "That might be a smart place to invest early, depending on what they found. I mean, if it's cinnabar, or even just high-quality iron, that would be pretty good. We won't get a piece of the main business, since stuff like that is always reserved for those high-born. But at least we can maybe service the place, provide some goods they need. And if we can buy land there early, we can set up shop, and surely the land around the mine will gain in value. That's usually pretty safe business."

"You think so?" a skeptical Chanca asked.

However, Sami remained optimistic. After all, he had seen his previous boss Sawo earn money exactly the same way. Ever since the miracle king had begun to build up Saniya, housing prices had exploded, something he himself had painfully felt already. Maybe this time, he would be early to one of the king's projects, and would be able to profit as a result.

"Don't forget that this place is in the middle of the jungle," Sami added to sweeten the pot for Chanca. "Even if their mines turn out useless or the land doesn't gain in value, they are still building roads deep into the trees. If all else fails, we can just start harvesting and selling wood from there, or lease the place to someone else to do it. The place is still in the middle of the jungle, surrounded on all sides by the best lumber resources in the world. That alone will make us a killing."

Rather than the more abstract idea of appreciating value, his was an argument the former carpenter's apprentice Chanca could understand.

"In that case, we might wanna check out the place if we have some time," Chanca concluded.

"Maybe not this time, but we'll get around to it. Building roads takes a long time, so we don't need to rush."

This was something Sami only considered after his enthusiasm had died down a bit. After all, they were here to do work as well. They couldn't just trek through the jungle for days on end to look at a mine that wasn't even open yet. Not only would they have to feed and pay their crew for every extra day at sea, but Ulan was also still waiting for him at home.

"If that navy of ours won't get a handle on the war soon, then none of that will matter anyways. No point buying land in a war zone," Chanca put a further damper on their plans. Though for Sami, those concerns were only a convenient excuse to ask some more questions.

"Since those drunks know some general and the maids in the palace, they must also know how the war is going, right?" he asked.

"Slowly, apparently," Chanca replied, much to Sami's disappointment. "The soldiers from the Green Island and Saniya are going island by island, clearing them out as they go. But it seems like it's slow going, and the locals are getting annoyed by it. At least those drunks were. One of them said that our very own General Paec has come here on the king's orders to wipe out the locals and replace them with people from southern Medala. Wait, that's right! The maid had an affair with General Paec!"

"That's ridiculous," Sami said, before realized that the target of his outrage was unclear and added: "Wiping out the locals is ridiculous, I mean, not the maid thing."

He wouldn't let such slander against their king stand. Yet Chanca was strangely pensive, and not angry like Sami would have expected.

"That's what I thought at first too, but they did make some sense," he said after some awkward silence. "The longer the war goes, the more locals will die, that's the truth. I mean, we did beat those rebels in the south — and the northerners, and the Orientals — all at once in less than a year. You can't tell me that we — together with the pirates from the Green Island — can't deal with other pirates, even after years of fighting. It makes no sense. I mean, our king even made that offer for land if anyone from Medala wants to come here. Sure sounds to me like he's trying to replace the locals."

"But the king made the same offer to Verdant Folk willing to move to Medala!" Sami immediately shouted, louder than even he himself thought was appropriate. Still, he couldn't just let such slander stand. Or rather, he wouldn't let his friend be fooled by these slanderous rumors from those vicious drunks. He had to set the record straight. "I don't know why that land exchange between our places is happening like that, but clearly, the miracle king has a plan, as always. And he has proven again and again that he does not want to kill people senselessly. Just think how he treated those refugees from Kapra and Antila. Would someone like that plan to kill people off on purpose? What will the queen say about such an attack on her people? You think she would be silent?"

"I guess not..."

"Now think, most of the soldiers who fight on our side should be from Saniya, right? Most of the navy hails from there," Sami continued. "If the king was trying to kill as many locals as possible, then he would never use people from his own estate to fight, right? I mean, that way, his own men die just as much as those Verdant Folk. Those drunkards' claims are just ridiculous."

"Maybe you're right."

Although Chanca finally admitted as much, he still sounded pensive, or maybe he was just bored. Sami couldn't tell, though he wouldn't be surprised at his friend's indifference. Unlike Sami himself, Chanca just didn't care about politics, or the plans of the greater folk at the top. No matter what Sami said, his friend might not even register it. Since there was no way to convince him now, Sami made the wise decision to just drop the topic.

"So, it looks like you really did learn a lot from those guys then, huh?" he concluded their talk instead.

"As I said, I didn't just waste my time drinking with those bastards. I was working."

And getting drunk while doing it, Sami added in his head. Though of course, he himself had done the exact same, for worse results. The time for complaints had passed.

"So maybe we should have thanked them, rather than beating them up," Sami joked instead, to lighten the mood.

"Can't change anything if they are so eager to rearrange my face." Chanca defended himself with a wry grin, one which once again made him wince from pain.

"Now that you say it, why did that fight break out in the first place?" Sami finally asked the question he had wanted to know all this time. "Sounds like you and those drinkers were getting along just fine before."

"I don't have the foggiest idea," Chanca complained. "I just said how our king is the best, and how Rasacopa is lucky that he'd be in charge of their country now and take care of them. Something like that."

"And where is the problem in that?" a baffled Sami asked. "You said nothing but the truth, right?"

"One of them suddenly shouted that their Captain Tayali would have been a much better king. Talked like he was crazy. Guy had his spit flying like he was possessed by a rain spirit."

While Chanca was eager to complain about the rude drunks again, Sami was more focused on the unfamiliar name.

"Who in the underworld is Tayali?" he asked.

"That's what I wanted to know," Chanca whipped his head towards Sami as he shouted back immediately. He looked as baffled as he looked angry. "So I ask that drunk fool who the guy is, and that damn bastard just up and throws his cup at me out of nowhere. Cut me right above my brow. Almost took my eye out, that lunatic!"

"And of course, you couldn't just let him get away with that," Sami concluded with a sigh.

"Of course I wouldn't! A bunch of drunks like that aren't enough to scare off Captain Chanca the Great!" Chanca scoffed with his usual bravado, in defiance of his squished face.

Finally, the whole story began to make sense. Apparently, those drunks were as unreasonable as they were well-connected. In the end, the fight really hadn't been Chanca's fault at all, and he hadn't been slacking off either. Instead, he had been doing his best to contribute to their journey's success.

Maybe his methods had been a bit unusual, though based on his own abilities, his approach made perfect sense. Considering how easily Chanca made friends, getting information out of some local drunks was a mission which really suited him well.

The more Sami thought about it, the worse he felt about blaming Chanca before. Maybe he had been too easily influenced by his quartermaster. Though of course, there was still plenty of time to make up for his mistakes. Their journey wasn't even halfway over, after all.

Thus, Sami stood up, finally at ease with his position in this fleet, and with his position in this life. For now, the most important thing was to get to bed. It was already deep in the night and they had a lot of work left to do tomorrow. Though his bones ached and he groaned as he forced himself on his feet, at least his nose had stopped bleeding. Once his footing on the wooden boards of the deck was finally stable, he held out a hand to the still seated Chanca.

"Looks like I was too quick to judge," he said. "I shouldn't have complained about you. I was an idiot."

"That doesn't matter." Chanca shook his head, and took Sami's outstretched hand. "What matters is that you showed up when those lunatics had me surrounded. Who cares about some words, right?"

"That's right," Sami replied, and pulled his friend up on his feet with a smile on his face.

"Right, I'm beat," Chanca said, and patted down his legs to get rid of the dust on his clothes, a vain attempts considering the sorry state of both of their wardrobes. After a few more hopeless pats, he gave up, shrugged, and said: "Let's just go back to our cabins. Maybe my damn face'll stop hurting once I sleep it off."

As Sami watched Chanca walk down the Suyana's gangway on his way to his own ship, Sami finally began to feel more confident in their adventure. At the very least, he no longer had the feeling that he was traveling alone, doing all the work by himself while his fellow captain just made trouble all the time. Now, he finally understood that he had a true ally he could rely on.

"By the way," Sami asked towards Chanca's back. "I still don't know how we're going to sell that Chutwa glaze you insisted we buy in Saniya. Maybe tomorrow, we can go looking for a wholesale buyer here in Jurau, and make some more room for cloth in our holds."

In response to the question, Chanca stopped at the bottom of the gangway and looked back.

"Don't worry about that," he replied with a laugh. "I already have a buyer for the stuff. Father planned it all out, remember?"

"You mind sharing that plan?" an interested Sami asked, but Chanca's annoying grin — further marred by the state of his face — disappointed him.

"What would be the fun in that?" he asked, added: "You'll see when we get there," and left for his own ship without another word.

Hermit's Notes: Lots of details about the world in this one. I wanted to do a general update on the situation in the Verdant Isles for a while, and finally I got to it in this arc.

Chapter 495 - The War of the Well

For a while, Sami and Stickboy drank in silence. The captain didn't know why the other man wasn't saying anything, but Sami — for his part — was still brooding over the strangers from before. Although he had said that he wouldn't bother with them, their leader's unusual demeanor just wouldn't leave his mind. Maybe he had been overly sensitive to strange characters ever since their meeting with those bearded 'spies' from northern Medala.

It took another noise from the back to bring Sami back to reality — the sound of breaking pottery this time. As he came back to his senses, he suddenly realized how much noisier the tavern had become overall. It wasn't surprising that this place would become more and more rowdy as the day advanced, but this surely was too much. Just as he wanted to turn around and see what was going on, Stickboy picked up their conversation again.

"So, what did you want to ask me before?"

Sami had to think for a moment before he even remembered their previous conversation. Those strangers had really robbed all of his momentum. Luckily, Stickboy was still willing to uphold his end of the bargain and had reminded him. After a few seconds, the inquisitive captain finally remembered. They had been talking about Stickboy's new job, and Sami wanted to learn more about the kinds of manufactories built around Jurau.

"Ah, I just wanted to ask about the general situation on the island, and about your new work. It's a good idea to stay informed on current trends, you see?" Sami added at the end, since he was a bit worried his questions would be misunderstood and he would be considered a spy.

He didn't know how things were here on Rasacopa, but if it was anything like Saniya, this place would have bounties for spies as well.

"I see indeed, friend," Stickboy simply said, as if he didn't worry about anything complicated like that. Though although he 'saw', rather than reply to the question, he turned his head towards the back of the tavern and said: "By the way, this other friend who entered with you is in a brawl. Is it fine to leave him like that?"

Once again, Sami had to interrupt his investigation and turn around. Yet compared to his disregard for the farmers from before, he couldn't stay indifferent towards the scene behind him. All this time, Chanca had been noisily demolishing the disgusting local swill with a bunch of drunks in the corner of the tavern. Somehow, while Sami had been busy collecting information, this merry meeting had developed into a violent brawl.

Bottles and shards of pottery lay scattered around the table in the dingy corner. Two of its four surrounding, flimsy chairs lay on their side, while another was held up like a club by one of the three drunks. The other two were unarmed, but had stances as if they were ready to pounce, if only they hadn't been so unsteady on their legs. By this point in the fight, the three drinkers had surrounded Chanca in a semi-circle, and cornered him behind the table with his back to the corner. If only there had been windows in this place, he could have escaped. But as things stood, his situation looked dangerous.

Blood oozed from a cut on Chanca's forehead. Even so, he still stood upright and confronted the three drinkers with a face distorted in anger. After the fight had broken out, the two sides must have scrapped for a while, before they had reached this strange stalemate somehow. Now they stood ready, weary of each other's moves and unsure how to continue, which had caused a short lull in the action.

Maybe this would be the best time to intervene peacefully and talk out their issues before any further escalation. However, Sami had no time to think about things like that, and he had no time to complain about Chanca, even though his cocky attitude and loud mouth had surely caused this mess, like it had so many times before.

Instead, almost on reflex, Sami muttered "shit" and jumped off the bar stool.

"Wait, friend," Stickboy said, while the bartender shouted: "Hey, don't start trouble here!"

Yet Sami had already picked up his bar stool as an improvised weapon and rushed towards the eye of the storm. He figured that if the others could use chairs, then using one himself would only be fair. Before anyone could stop him, Sami had rushed across the cramped, dingy tavern and whacked one of the drinkers in his back.

Let's go easy on them and not hit them in the head. I don't wanna kill anyone, he thought, but only after the fact, when — finally — his faculty for thought had barely returned. Meanwhile, the drunk man stumbled forward from the hit. After two unsteady steps, he fell against the table, and then collapsed on the floor.

Yet as Sami both admired his handiwork and praised himself for his measured response, something hard hit him in the side of the head and made him stumble away. As soon as he was hit, his head dulled again. All further thought, and all plans for reconciliation flew out the non-existent windows.

Without any further plan, Sami charged the guy who had just punched him, his pain dulled by anger. At the same time, Chanca used the distraction to regain the initiative, and he scrambled across the table and rushed at the last upright drinker as well. For both sides, all considerations were gone. All that was left were allies, and enemies.

As the five men brawled, they soon stumbled and fell into other tables, and spread their fight across the entire tavern like a plague. Of course, all the locals proved to be on the side of the three drinkers. However, just when it looked like Sami and Chanca would be overwhelmed and subdued by the crowd, some of their crewsmen rushed into the bar to save their captains. It was a nice gesture, but also just escalated the fight further. More and more fists joined in, until no one even knew who was fighting who anymore. It was a legendary battle — even by the standards of the Deep Well — one which would last all day, and until deep into the night.

----------------------------

Drip...

a drop of blood landed on the wooden planks beneath Sami, where it crowded in between half a dozen other red dots which had already staked their place there. In comparison to the dried drops from before, this one was still fresh, glistening in the light of the overhead oil lamp.

Although Sami was exhausted and hurt all over, he still raised his hand up to his nose and brushed off the tickly feeling around his nostril. Of course, his finger came back red. Once again, his ship's with excellent lighting helped, or he would have seen nothing in the middle of the night.

"You're bleeding again," an annoying voice from besides Sami commented on his actions.

"Yes, I noticed. Thank you," the annoyed Sami replied and looked over.

Chanca sat on the steps leading up to the Suyana's quarterdeck, right next to Sami. Although they occupied the way up to the ship's wheel, it wasn't like anyone needed to go up there in the middle of the night, with their ship anchored at the pier. The overhead lighting cast most of the idiot's face in shadows, but he still managed to look like a wrung-out dishrag, all dirty, grimy, and squished.

That's what you get for starting a fight for no good reason.

The thought didn't make Sami feel much better, even less so since he himself felt just as horrible as Chanca looked.

"That's the first time I got banned from anywhere, ever, you know?" Sami added after a long silence.

If there was any consolation, at least they didn't have to pay for the damages they had caused. Most likely, the tavern's owner had been intimidated by the size of their crews when he had claimed that 'this happens all the time, that's why we only have old furniture'. Still, it didn't make Sami feel any better about the ban, nor about his dripping nose and swollen temple. Yet his partner-in-crime didn't seem to have any awareness of the trouble he had caused them.

"Yeah, that was a god time, huh?" Chanca claimed, as if he didn't care about their embarrassing state at all. At the very least, after a few seconds of Sami's baffled silence, his friend still added: "Thanks for saving me."

In response, Sami had to sigh.

"Could you just stop making trouble for once?" he asked. "While you were busy getting drunk with your new friends, and then busy getting beat up by your new friends, I tried to gather some information. But then I had to stop halfway through to save you from getting your head smashed in by some useless drunks. Now we still barely know anything about anything, and I have to start looking for a reliable informant again to learn more about Rasacopa."

Although in the moment, Sami had acted immediately to support his friend, now was the time to make sure something like this wouldn't happen again. Not only had they been thrown out. Not only would they have to sleep on their own ship tonight because no other place would take them in after the trouble they had caused. Worse, the man called Stickboy had also quietly disappeared at some point during the brawl.

Although it was a bit disappointing, Sami wasn't surprised. His drinking companion didn't seem close to anyone in the tavern, and didn't seem to be one for crowds either. As a consolation, at least he hadn't joined the fight against them, which was about as good as Sami could expect from an almost-stranger.

Still, without no more reliable sources of information he could draw from, Sami had to delay all his plans. Today, they had already unloaded all their goods from their ship, apart from the useless shellcraft on the Kallpa, of course. Tomorrow, Sami had wanted to just buy more goods and then move on to Chutwa. However, now he didn't even know what goods were cheap here, nor where to buy them.

At this hour, it was unlikely he would meet someone as trustworthy as Stickboy again. Thus, their entire schedule would be delayed by at least a day. Not to mention, if he wanted to gather more information and make their future journey safer, they would be even later. Yet just as Sami wanted to complain some more about their chaotic first journey, Chanca's next words surprised him.

"What do you mean, you gathered information? What do you think I was doing back there?" Chanca asked with an arrogant grin on his face, or so Sami thought. He had a hard time reading his friend's expressions through the swollen face. Though in actuality, he was too confused to carefully read his expression anyways.

"What?" he barely articulated instead. Somehow, he couldn't conceive the idea that today, Chanca had done anything for any reason other than his own selfish wants. However, his friend's next words brought Sami face to face with his own prejudices, and his own arrogance.

"Those drinkers are well-connected, or so father says," Chanca explained, before he groaned in pain. He moved his jaw around a bit, spat out a small mouthful of blood, and continued. "In case I wanted to check out this place and ask some more questions, father wrote down theirs, and the name of that worthless dive. But now that I've been, it looks like father was wrong. I've never seen a more ungrateful tavern owner than that guy. Do you have any idea how much money I spent on that place before that brawl started? They should be glad that-"

"Wait one moment," Sami interrupted after he had finally regained his senses. Rather than listen to Chanca's complaints, he had to clarify what he had just heard. "You mean to tell me that you already knew those drunkards, and that meeting them was part of a larger plan?"

"Of course." Chanca admitted almost immediately, as if it was obvious. "Father planned out every step of our first trip for us, I'm just following instructions. I mean, how else did I know what to buy in Saniya, and to bring it to Jurau, and then where to sell it here? You don't think I actually know anything about this stuff, do you?"

The more Sami heard, the more shocked he became, in perfect contrast with Chanca's face, which clearly expressed an 'isn't that obvious' attitude. So all this time, they had been operating on a tight schedule, with a complete plan? What did that mean for his hard work, and his meticulous research over the course of these weeks and months?

"So everything I've been doing has been useless?" Sami concluded, first in confusion, before the anger began to set in. Why would Chanca never tell him about any of this? Why did his friend instead just watch him waste his time, and embarrass himself in the process? Yet before Sami could accuse an innocent man in his embarrassment, his friend explained himself.

"I keep telling you not to worry so much, but you just wouldn't stop," he said, and looked away with a face even more crumpled than before. "You've been running around like you've been possessed by a demon, you know?"

As Sami looked at his friend's uncomfortable, bloody face, he realized that Chanca was probably even more embarrassed than he himself had been. After all, it was hardly glorious to have every single step of his life dictated by his father-in-law. Considering the fact that Chanca's wife had only just given birth to his first son, this entire trip probably hadn't been Chanca's idea at all. Most likely, he had been forced away by his overbearing father-in-law, for some reason or another. Clearly, Chanca also wasn't doing nearly as well as he claimed. In the face of his friend's troubles, Sami's own issues suddenly dissolved like sugar in water.

"Sorry about that," a regretful Sami finally said after a prolonged pause. He had been far too focused on himself and had never noticed his friend's own troubles. However, now that he realized that Chanca had a plan, Sami propped himself up in his seat as he regained his energy almost immediately. He needed to know more about Ekkoko's orders if he wanted to help out. He was a captain of their fleet as well, after all. It was only proper for him to learn more, and then to share the burden.

"So what exactly is the plan then?" Sami asked. "Can you tell me now?"

"Well... we've already unloaded all the fertilizer and soap we brought here," Chanca began to explain after some hesitation.

"Yeah, I know. We had a buyer lined up long ago, right?" Sami helped his friend along. At least that much, he already knew. After all, it would have been tough for Chanca to convince his friend of their route without at least this much of a guarantee. Though he still didn't know what they were meant to do from here.

"Yes, father said they'd buy our entire cargo at some Royal something-or-other," Chanca said, and Sami corrected in his head Royal Plantation Initiative, as Chanca continued. "I went to that ungrateful dive today to ask more about them."

"And? What did you learn?" Sami asked, now curious about just how much he had underestimated his friend, and about how much he had found out on his own.

"Did you know that the island here is spending a lot of coin on cotton and carpets and stuff?" Chanca asked.

"I have an inkling," Sami replied, and thought back to Stickboy, who had claimed to be employed by a textile mill. The reminder of his previous encounter annoyed Sami again. Thus, he added in a slightly bitter tone: "But before I could ask anything more concrete, I had to rush away and save your ass from some useless drunks."

"I could have taken them by myself, all three of them at once," Chanca claimed in a gruff voice, which once again dissolved Sami's building anger.

"Of course you could have."

Despite his words, Sami had to stifle a laugh at the sight of Chanca's busted up face. This masterpiece of red, blue and black was the result of their encounter after he had gotten reinforcements. Sami didn't even want to imagine how things would have gone if Chanca had been on his own. Maybe those close-knit locals would have just liberated the stranger with the deep pockets of his belongings and then thrown his body into the deep waters of the harbor, just another new arrival who went missing in the big city.

It wasn't a pleasant thought. Thus, rather than occupy any more of his mind with such inauspicious things, Sami tried to focus on their job instead and asked: "So did you learn any more than me? Something that can be useful to us?"

"Ah, right, the carpet stuff," Chanca said and slapped his forehead, something he immediately regretted. He hissed in pain after he slapped the fresh cut above his eyes. Sami patiently waited while his friend checked that he hadn't started bleeding again. Only once he had confirmed that he wasn't in a medical emergency did Chanca continue.

"Apparently, the lords of this place — which I guess are now the same as the lords of ours — have started to clear out the forest in the south and west," he said. "With all the spare room, they have been planting cotton plants, rows and rows of it, as far as the eye can see. Well, not my eye, but the eye of the guy who told father. Seems like they've also come up with cheaper ways to make carpet or something. Maybe it's kinda like our manufactories in Saniya? I really don't get it all that much."

"Surely, those were the ideas of the miracle king," Sami interjected.

Both him and Chanca had been carpentry apprentices before, but only he had worked in a manufactory in the past. In these new types of workshops, the king had introduced new ideas like modular production and standardized measurements. Sami knew how much of a difference those seemingly irrelevant methods made to their output and efficiency.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they had water-powered machines for spinning or weaving cloth, similar to the metal lathe the TaSa manufactory installed for metal detailing," Sami thus concluded.

"Probably," Chanca shrugged, clearly not interested in any of Sami's speculations. "What matters is that they've already planted 22.000 hectares of the cotton, which means they are now producing about 100.000 tons of carpet in a year. At least that's what those drunks said. I wrote it down somewhere, but I think I lost the paper, but I still remember the numbers. It sounded like a lot anyways. Their carpet is also good quality, the drunks say, and it's maybe half the price you'd have to pay for the same stuff in Saniya."

"So Rasacopa cloth is our next product then," Sami concluded. Now, their future path was clear. They'd buy cheap cloth here, and then transport it to Chutwa, where they would sell it.

Chapter 494 - Stickboy

"What do you want to know?" Stickboy asked, apparently satisfied with his payment.

"I wanted to know if the passage from here to Saniya is safe?" Sami began, before he realized that it was a foolish question. Of course the active war zone full of pirates wasn't safe. Before anyone could call him a fool, he quickly explained himself further. "I mean, of course, we met pirates this time, but is that the norm or the exception? How likely are we to meet a raid like that in, let's say, ten trips back and forth?"

In response to Sami's precise question, the man called Stickboy hesitated and thought for a few seconds before he replied.

"Well, that depends," he finally mumbled vaguely, much to the young captain's annoyance.

"Depends on what?" Sami still suppressed his displeasure and played along with the coy reply. If he upset the local, he wouldn't learn anything, and would instead find himself opposite an entire tavern filled with violent drunks.

"It depends on which routes you are taking," Stickboy finally revealed, before he took another sip and added: "Also, which flags you fly."

At last, Sami had gotten some useful information out of the interaction. Not even his previous embarrassment mattered anymore.

"I understand. So long as we stick to the main trade routes and fly the flags of the southern kingdom, I think we will be fine," he summarized.

After all, the main routes should be the ones most tightly protected by Saniya's and Rasacopa's navies. Further, the flag of the southern kingdom would surely scare off all attackers. Not only was the average level of strength from southern kingdom vessels much higher, any attackers would also no doubt fear retaliation for their actions should they dare attack a southern galleon.

However, much to Sami's surprise, Stickboy didn't agree immediately. Instead, he frowned, seemingly unsure, before he asked: "Southern Kingdom? Is that the purple flag?"

"Yeah, why?"

"These days, the favorite goal of pirates are apparently those ships flying the purple flags of Medala," Stickboy explained with a deepening frown, one which only furthered Sami's confusion. Only when a cup with a light-red liquid landed in front of him did his head start working again. For the moment, he ignored the cup and made sure he hadn't misheard.

"That doesn't make any sense," he insisted. "I thought we were protected by Saniya's and Rasacopa's navies. Why would the pirates attack us more than anyone else? Are they fools?"

"Before those big captains from the isles and your turtles from the east can protect you, they have to clean up all the Colored Kings hiding out on the isles first. So long as the Kings are still out there, they will use most of their energy on their main task. And there is an awful lot of water to cover between here and Saniya. Those war ships cannot be everywhere at once, not when they have to focus on other things. So no matter how many ships your people have, there is always plenty of opportunity to slip between the cracks and commit some quick murder and plunder. And a good raid captain will always have an escape route ready in case they get surprised by enemies. So he can always retreat when he meets a strong foe, just like what happened to you."

Sami thought back to the swift escape the pirates had staged during their engagement. Maybe they hadn't been scared at all. Maybe their actions were based on harsh lessons learned through years of experience. At least that made a lot more sense than Sami's naive belief that they were somehow afraid of his crew's ineptitude.

"Also," Stickboy continued while Sami was still collecting his thoughts. "The ships with the purple flags always carry rich treasure in their holds, or people they say. Everyone on Rasacopa knows that, and so do the Colored Kings. That flag's purple cloth alone is worth a fortune."

Only now did Sami realize that he had been foolish himself, despite calling everyone else a fool. Everyone was always bragging that only the wealthy southern kingdom could afford to color its flags purple. How could he never have considered this a problem? Why did they show off their wealth like idiots when they were only merchants, prime targets for piracy?

"So we have a target on our backs then," he thus concluded in a gloomy tone. At the same time, he quietly vowed to get his hands on a few more flags in Jurau. He would be damned if they continued to fly Saniya's flag all the time. In case they met a friendly ship, they could always just switch quickly, right?

"I apologize that I could not bring any better news, friend," Stickboy said, and patted him on the back. However, Sami waved off the sympathy.

"Not your fault. I have to thank you for telling me the truth so honestly."

You could have also said nothing, and then told some of your friends at the harbor that we were an easy mark, Sami added in his head, cautioning himself to be more careful with his words in the future. However, his drinking companion seemed to share none of his concerns.

"You have paid for my drink after all," the easygoing stranger said, and raised his cup again. "And you provided some company when I needed it. I am celebrating a promotion, you see. Celebrating by myself would have been too sad."

"In that case, let's drink to your promotion, friend," Sami said, rather than ask this 'Stickboy' why he wouldn't drink with anyone else here, or why he didn't simply go to a better place to celebrate. Instead, he finally picked up his fruit wine and clinked cups with the young man with the inexplicable epithet. This time, the drink was fruity and cloyingly sweet, far too much of both for Sami's taste. However, he didn't want to keep complaining and appear like a difficult customer, so he just awkwardly sipped his drink for a bit.

"So what is it you do after your new promotion?" Sami asked to pick the conversation back up. As a bonus, he could stop drinking his fruit juice so long as he was talking. To his surprise, this Stickboy's job was one he could relate to.

"From next week onward, I will be the supervisor in one of the green crown's textile mills south of Jurau," Stickboy said, with a pride in his voice which proved he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

A fellow sufferer then, Sami concluded, and immediately found 'Stickboy' to be a lot more endearing.

"You know," he began, "Back in Saniya, before I got involved in this whole merchant business, I also-" yet before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by a voice from behind.

"See, those men back there were right!" someone shouted from behind them. "This one really is from Saniya!"

Sami turned his head to find a group of five people awkwardly standing in the middle of the tavern, facing him as one of them was pointing straight at the captain. Yet when he saw Sami's disapproving look, the rude stranger quickly lowered his finger again.

"We apologize if we have disturbed you, sire," another one said. His bearded, weathered face was as awkward as it was apologetic. "However, I could not help but overhear your conversation just now."

"What do you want?" an annoyed Sami asked in a gruff voice, one which was supposed to show that he wasn't interested in an answer at all.

Though of course, his anger wasn't all acted. A strange bunch had suddenly appeared just when he had begun to relate to this 'Stickboy'. He was about to gather even more information, and could even make a connection in the textile industry, which would bring him endless benefits. How could he not be angry at the interruption? Yet while all the others looked intimidated by Sami's attitude, their apparent leader with the beard still stood his ground and continued to ask questions.

"You see, we are all farmers from Rasacopa, and we have been trying to make our way to Saniya," he began. "As you are a merchant who travels the route, would it be possible to take us along? Although we have limited funds, we would be willing to work for our fare."

"Not interested," Sami just said at the end of the man's pleading speech, before he turned around again. Even if the next goal of their journey had really been Saniya, he wasn't interested in taking along a bunch of freeloaders who knew nothing about the seafaring business.

"But-"

"We're on our way to Chutwa." he interrupted the voice behind him, before the man could launch into another speech. "For you, we are going in the wrong direction. Unless you want to follow us to Chutwa, you are asking the wrong captain for help. So you best look for some other ship to fulfill your dreams."

"Even so, we would like to thank you for your time, sire," the voice behind Sami said, before he heard the steps of the strangers disappear behind him again.

"You could have still taken them along. Sooner or later, you will obviously return back to your home port," Stickboy argued. However, Sami wasn't interested in his sophistry.

"Why? With the way they were dressed, they clearly have no money, and I know they're no sailors. Since they have no skill, why should I take them in? I don't hand out alms on my ship."

"How would you know that they are no sailors? Were there some hidden clues?" Stickboy wondered. However, the answer was much simpler than that.

"Just some common sense," Sami said. "They look like a loose group of disparate people, who only seem to have their goal in common. All of them want to get to Medala. Note, they want to go to Medala, not to Saniya. They're probably on their way there for the free land our king has been offering. Who else but some poor tenant farmers or useless people would leave their home for an empty promise and some vain hope?"

Of course, Sami wasn't quite as dismissive of these people as his speech implied. After all, he himself had considered getting some land in the Verdant Isles before. It had been his exit strategy away from his dead-end job in the manufactory, at least until Ulan's pregnancy.

No matter what he said, he still believed in the words of his king, a man of honor and integrity, who had offered free land to anyone who dared to make the trip across the ocean. If nothing else, he didn't believe that their mighty king would ruin his reputation, just to fool a few poor souls who were only yearning for a better life. In that sense, Sami had sympathy for these landless commoners, who were about to start a difficult journey he himself had almost attempted.

Still, no matter their circumstances, he wouldn't take some farmers and day laborers onto his ship. By the time he could teach them how to tie a proper knot — meaning by the time they became useful members of his crew — they would reach Saniya and all his newly trained sailors would run off again. It was a waste of his time and energy. If at least they could pay for their passage, he could have considered taking them along, but as it was, he couldn't afford to do business at a loss.

"Still, I think you were a bit harsh, friend," Stickboy insisted. However, Sami just returned a critical look.

"Better to tell them the truth straight away than to tiptoe around and waste their time, and mine," he said, and drank some more of his overly sweet wine. "They don't need sympathy, they need passage, something I cannot provide, not to the conditions they want. Now that they know I don't offer what they seek, they can look for a ship traveling in the right direction elsewhere." Sami paused for a second, before he looked back at the dejected backs of the group filing out of the tavern. For a moment, he considered if he should say the true main reason for his rejection. In the end, he decided that it didn't matter and added: "And I also didn't like the look of the one guy."

"Their leader?" Stickboy guessed. It wasn't hard to guess, really. Among the strangers, their bearded leader was the only one who stood out.

"Yeah, I thought the way he talked was weird," Sami summarized the vague unease he had felt from the stranger, before he thought deeper and came to another conclusion. "He was too composed, and I don't think a farmer or laborer would have a straight back like that."

The more he thought, the more unusual the man seemed. He also appeared to be quite pale compared to others. Clearly, he wasn't working outside all day, unlike his companions.

"I mean, he did speak in a strange tone," Stickboy admitted. "He might be from another island."

"Maybe," Sami said, though he didn't really believe it. Still, there was no point in brooding over someone he would never meet again. "But in my experience, it is always a good idea to just stay away from strange people. That way, you also avoid any unnecessary trouble," Sami thus concluded the topic.

"Is that why you chose to buy me a drink, rather than any of the regulars?" Stickboy asked with a smile on his face. In response, Sami had to smile as well. The living dead in the back of the tavern were certainly strange, though by now he wasn't sure his drinking companion was any more normal.

"Back then, I didn't yet know your name was Stickboy, or I might have chosen differently," Sami quipped.

"It is Yuraq, actually," Stickboy corrected him. "But Stickboy is fine. That's what everyone calls me."

"In that case, pleased to make your acquaintance again, Stickboy," Sami said, and raised his cup of barely-wine once again.

Hermit's Notes: Some old faces reappear (though I'm not sure anyone remembers), and some mysterious, new stranger.

Since these chapters are all essentially one long chapter each, which I need to re-read and then cut up into smaller parts, it's probably better to post them in bulk. So I'll post three chapters today (to finish the current mega-chapter), and another two tomorrow.

Chapter 493 - Engagement at Sea

The water here really is green. I thought those were just stories, Sami thought as he stared at the waves of the Verduic Sea.

On their way to Rasacopa, they had come close to the island of Yua, which meant they were around halfway through the first leg of their journey.

So far, their travels had been largely uneventful. Though first, it had taken them a few days at sea to get used to sailing at high seas. However, with Sami's carefully selected crew, many of their issues had been greatly alleviated. Not to mention, a well-traveled route, protected by Saniya's powerful navy, had allowed them to make their way from Saniya deep into the Verdant Isles without any major incident.

Only once had they seen a military vessel, but it had been one of Saniya's own galleons patrolling the waters to deter pirates. As soon as they had seen them fly King Corcopaca's silver triquetra on purple cloth, the ship had ignored them.

Ever since that day, Sami had felt completely safe. With such a powerful force on their side, surely no pirates would dare touch them and risk the wrath of Saniya's mighty fleet, right? Thus, he had begun to enjoy the journey instead.

As they traveled further north and west, the temperature kept rising, and one by one, the environment of the islands going past them changed. From temperate islands and deserts, they soon only saw tropical jungles, a complete novelty for Sami. He was determined to at least spend some time in one of these impressive forests once they reached Rasacopa, if only to feel a closeness to nature he hadn't felt ever since he had left his rural home.

Yet just when Sami was caught in his own thoughts, convinced that they would be able to reach Jurau on Rasacopa without trouble, a shout interrupted his peace, and heralded the appearance of such trouble instead.

"Ship ahead!"

Up on the crow's nest, the lookout shouted down, and then sent down a series of signals to inform the crew on deck that an unidentified ship without a flag was approaching. Soon, Sami could see the ship as well. From around a small reef besides their route, a raid ship from the Verdant Isles suddenly appeared — far closer than was comfortable — and steered straight towards them. The outlook had called them unidentified, but for Sami, their identity was unmistakable. Only pirates could look like this, and approach them with such purpose.

The narrow rowing ship lay low in the water, its pointed keel cleaving through the waves with every stroke of its countless oars. Behind each of these oars would sit a fierce verduic pirate, ready to board their brand-new galleon and kill them all for their riches. Just at that moment, a ghastly sound spread across the waters, like the desperate screams of a dying man. Much to his dismay, Sami knew the source. This noise came from a death whistle, a conch-shaped horn which created an ungodly scream, often used by pirates in these waters to intimidate their victims as they approached.

As soon as they heard the noise, the inexperienced, leaderless crew fell into a panic at the imminent raid. People ran around confused, all of them with their own plans. Some wanted to steer the ship away from the threat, while others wanted to unpack their cannons to fight back. Others yet just wanted to hide below deck and hope for the best. Yet as he saw everyone around him panic, Sami instead returned to an eerie calm. Through Qawa, he managed to transmit his orders to the whole crew, which managed to restore a semblance of structure to the chaos aboard his vessel.

First, Sami ordered his men to inform Chanca's ship of the raid through semaphore signals. If the situation on their ship was that chaotic, surely Chanca's wasn't any better, so he needed to give them every help he could. However, right after, he had to take care of his own crew's safety.

Thus, his next order was for their crew to adjust their course and fully unfurl their sails. In his plan, they would speed up and steer slightly north-east, until they would face the bow of the pirates with their broadside. Then, they just had to hold the heading. Once their course had been set, there wasn't much more he could do. Or rather, his presence was more needed elsewhere. As soon as the course had been set, he transferred the authority above deck to Qawa and personally went down to the orlop deck to help coordinate their cannon fire.

Although his men were still fearful, and lacking experience to boot, they had at least spent some time training on the cannons since they had gone to sea. After more chaos and a lot of struggle, they finally managed to load two of their three starboard cannons by the time the enemy raid ship had reached within five hundred meters of the Suyana. Already, they were well within cannon range, too close for comfort. By now, the raid ship had long zeroed in on them, closing in rapidly with every pull of its oars.

No more time to wait for the last cannon to load. If we don't fire soon, we might not get another chance, the captain realized.

Although Sami's chest tightened more and more, he pretended to be calm as he gave his orders.

On his "Fire!," the two loaded cannons shot a salvo towards the enemy ship. All he could do now was hope that they would land a critical hit to gain some time for a second shot.

One, two, Sami counted, as he watched two fountains of water splash up harmlessly far in front of the raid ship. The sight made his stomach drop further, yet he forced himself to continue. He couldn't lose his head, or their resistance would collapse.

"Keep going," he shouted with a cracking voice at his frozen crew. "Reload!"

Yet just as the desperation began to overwhelm him, he heard someone shout "They're turning!"

Soon, more voices joined in, as his crew's panic turned into celebration.

Through the small gunports in the orlop deck, Sami could confirm the shouts. Indeed, the raid ship seemed to have been intimidated by their amateurish attempt at firing, and had begun to turn, eager to escape the battlefield.

Maybe they thought we were just firing a warning shot. I guess they mistook our incompetence for mercy.

As Sami tried to make sense of this messy encounter, the sailors around him celebrated their 'victory' over the pirates. Not long after, they would reach Rasacopa without any further incidents.

__________________________

"In the end, we drove the pirates back into their reefs. Had we known the waters better, we would have pursued them and sent their little boat into the underworld. It's their luck, this time. Anyway, that's what happened," Sami concluded his story.

Of course, he left out most of his and his crew's incompetence. In his tale, they had also met several raiding ships organized by one of the colored kings, instead of a single one without a flag. After a fierce exchange of fire, they had heroically fought off all of them and continued their path safely.

"Sounds like you had quite an adventure, stranger," the young man who sat on the bar stool next to Sami commented. "So you are here to drink and wait while your men sell off your goods and load new ones?"

"That as well," Sami admitted, before he added: "But I also want to know more about the general situation here in Jurau, Rasacopa, and on the surrounding islands. I'd rather not get surprised by any pirates again, you see? Even if we managed to fend them off easily the first time, there is no reason to take any extra risks, is there? Who knows, maybe next time they organize a large ambush to take revenge."

"Well, so long as you pay for my drink, I do not mind telling you whatever you want to know, friend," the man replied with a friendly smile, one which almost masked the transaction which had just been established between them. Though of course, this clever deception wouldn't let Sami forget his end of the deal.

"Of course," he thus said, before he turned to look at the barman across the tavern's counter. "Could we get two..." Sami thought for a second, before he asked: "What do the patrons usually drink here?"

"Two cups of Unaqha coming up," the barman said without an expression, and turned around to fill two cups with a clear liquid from a large, earthen bottle. While Sami was waiting for their drinks to arrive, he looked around the fine establishment he found himself in, although there really wasn't much to see.

Compared to the constant, light drizzle of Saniya — which was sometimes interspersed with intense showers of rain or impenetrable mist for variety — the Green Island was a paradise on earth. The capital of Jurau, set in the bay of the same name, was always covered in sunlight, which showed off the beautiful architecture of its many small courtyards built along the gentle curve of the sandy shore. Yet despite this strong first impression, the locals didn't seem to appreciate their superior natural conditions much. At least in here, Sami couldn't see any of the city's sights.

For some bizarre reason, the Deep Well — which was supposedly Jurau's most infamous tavern — had no windows to enjoy the outside view.

Maybe the windows were boarded up to protect the hungover drinkers from sunlight, Sami mused.

That was the best guess he could make after a look at this dive's clientele. Both Sami and Chanca had come here to gather information. As soon as they had entered, his friend had picked out the darkest corner, where three older men sat surrounded by a hill of full and empty bottles and cups, despite the early time of day.

Clearly, they were regulars of the place and spent most of their time drinking here. Just as clearly, they would know a lot about the area as a result. Most likely, that was the reason Chanca went to talk to them, apart from the excuse to drink early, of course. However those drunks in the corner were also clearly unreliable and shady, much like most of the other patrons in this low-down place.

Such observations were also the reason Sami had picked his own drinking partner. Unlike most everyone else in here, this young man's clothes looked clean and his eyes seemed clear. He didn't have a beard or a stubble either. Overall, The young man looked well put-together, like a useful member of society, which was the reason Sami had approached him specifically.

Two soft thuds made Sami turn around again to find two shallow cups filled with a clear liquid before him and his fellow drinker. Cautiously, Sami picked up the cup so he wouldn't spill anything and turned towards his neighbor.

"Cheers," he said, and downed the drink all at once, before anyone could reply. It was a decision he regretted immediately. Liquid fire entered his mouth and burned his lips, throat and stomach. Right after, an unpleasant, lingering taste followed, as if he had swallowed a rotting carcass doused in lamp oil.

Yet Sami barely noticed the vile taste. He was too busy wheezing and coughing through tears, trying to force some air through his destroyed throat before he would choke to death on dry land. All around him, the cheap tavern erupted in uproarious laughter.

"Are you alright, friend?" his neighbor asked, and hit Sami's back a few times to help him out.

Although his words sounded like genuine concern, he also had an annoying smirk plastered on his face. After a few more hearty coughs, Sami finally recovered and replied as he wiped some tears off his face: "Yes, I'm fine. But I think someone just tried to poison me."

"Well, Unaqha is not something you are meant to drink in a rush, friend. For that, you would need a lot more experience," the man replied, and slowly sipped his drink as if to show off his poison resistance. While Sami was still recovering from the local customs, his new 'friend' turned to the barman and added in a smug tone: "Please get something more foreigner-friendly for my friend here."

"You got it, Stickboy," the bartender replied with a smirk. "One fruit wine coming up."

"I'm sure something like that would be more your speed," the man called Stickboy told Sami. As he spoke, his voice and face carried a sincerity which made Sami question whether the man with the strange name was trying to help him or make fun of him. Rather than unravel the mystery, Sami wisely decided to ignore his embarrassment and move on.

"So anyways, I thought it would be good to learn more about the state of the war, since we will be traveling around these waters a lot," he picked up their previous conversation instead. After all, he had now paid the agreed price, so it was time for his new 'friend' to uphold his end of the bargain.

"That sounds like a wise idea," Stickboy replied, and sipped some more of his poison. "What do you want to know?"

Chapter 492 - Another Captain

After a silent reminder of his need to prove his worth on their upcoming journey, Sami finally made his way above deck. There were even more sailors up here, and they were even busier than the ones below deck. All across the rigging, men were climbing up and down to check the sails and knots like spiders building a net. With a now-practiced eye, Sami scanned their work, but could spot no slackers, nor careless behavior. Everyone was dutifully operating his station, and making good pace as well. Soon, they would be ready to set out to sea.

Since it looked like they wouldn't need his help, Sami decided to not bother them in their work. Finally, after he had checked the ship from bottom to top one final time, he could feel at peace for a few moments. All he had to do now was stay nearby and keep an eye on them in case some decision needed to be made.

Thus, he leaned against the railing on the forecastle's starboard side and idly stared out into the harbor as he waited for his men to finish up their work. In a rare blessing of fate, Saniya's sky was almost cloudless today, and not a drop of rain was falling. The deep-lying morning sun illuminated a band of clouds from below to turn them into a red island archipelago floating in the sky. Atop the red shimmering waters around the Suyana's hull, countless ships were already traveling back and forth along the Mayura River, Medala's busiest trade route.

Atop many of these ships, as well as down in the harbor, Sami could spot others working hard for their daily bread, just how they did on his own Suyana. Meanwhile, he himself could take it easy without getting called out for his laziness by anyone. It was a strange shift in status, one which filled him both with pride and unease. At the same time, the view down onto the docks also evoked some memories in Sami, memories which reminded him of just how far he had come.

When he had first arrived in Saniya all those years ago, it had been in the cargo hold of an ice ship from Vallunaraju. He had been the lowest of servants back then, his status a mere half step above a stowaway. After his arrival, he had been forced to work harder than anyone, pushing massive blocks of ice into the ice houses all day until his arms burned like fire. Otherwise, he would not have received as much as his base salary, just barely enough to survive for another day. Now, a few years later, he was the captain of his own ship. Even though most of the ship wasn't truly his own, the achievement still filled his chest with pride.

Of course, Chanca was a captain as well, just not on Sami's Suyana. Originally, they had planned to buy only one ship. However, the provocation from the northern fools had really rubbed Chanca the wrong way. On top of that, problems had arisen when they had tried to define their roles on the one ship they had planned to buy. Sami thought he would be fine with the role of bosun, or maybe a ship's carpenter, or the like, since he was only a junior partner in their enterprise and didn't mind a minor role onboard the ship.

However, Chanca insisted that both of them were investors, so both of them should be captains. Even more, the gangster's son-in-law didn't intend to do any actual work, so he much rather left the role of captain to Sami. Yet at the same time, Sami's prideful friend would also never allow himself to be seen inferior to anyone, so he couldn't let himself serve in a role beneath the captain. Thus, rather than work out who would be the captain between them, his friend had simply decided to buy a second ship and give the title to both of them. After all, while Sami was limited by his finances, Chanca didn't have such concerns.

Reminded of his fellow captain's existence, Sami looked over to Chanca's brand-new vessel, anchored right next to his own. Although they had begun around the same time, the sailors next door were not half as far with their preparations than his own.

Well, at least we won't have to rush anything, Sami thought.

Chanca's 'Kallpa' was a sister vessel with an identical size and make to his own Suyana. Both ships had been built at the same time, in neighboring dry docks, and they had been sold to the same man, on the same day.

Now Sami and Chanca had what could be called a fleet of their own — albeit a tiny one. It was a fact which seemed to have escaped Chanca's notice so far. Otherwise, Sami was convinced his friend would switch his own title to admiral immediately. Surely, he would add a big hat to wear, and maybe a custom-made fake uniforms, like the big men of Saniya's navy sometimes wore during the big award ceremonies. After all, one of Chanca's wise saying stated that the most important people were the ones with the biggest hats.

As he idly thought about his strange friend's strange behavior, Sami's mind drifted further and further away from their upcoming journey, and from his own responsibilities. Much unlike himself, he hadn't even thought about checking on his men for a while. Only a sudden voice reminded him of his duties again.

"Captain, there's trouble!" a shout sounded behind Sami, more annoyed than concerned in its tone. "Looks like the fool has begun to create problems for us. Again."

The words finally reminded Sami of his responsibilities. As he tried his best to hide his guilty conscience behind a stoic mask, he turned away from the harbor and towards the quartermaster of the Suyana, as well as the highest ranking officer on Sami's crew.

An old man with weather-beaten skin and a permanent scowl on his crooked face had come up behind Sami while the captain had been distracted by his own thoughts. The old sailor's clothes were rough, but orderly, which proved both his low status in the world, as well as his thorough and orderly character, traits he very much shared with his captain.

"Qawa, what's the problem?" the captain asked the quartermaster on his ship.

Just like most everyone else on the Suyana, Qawa had been hired by Sami over the past month to fill up their crew with proper sailors. After all, just he and Chanca could hardly run the two ships by themselves.

In the process of recruitment, Sami had spoken to countless people. There were all kinds of folks eager to get a hire on their ships, and Sami had done his best to sort them into groups of useful or useless people. Unfortunately, most were the latter. Many eager to board were fools or do-nothings, who were looking for easy work with good pay.

Since Sami was a new face at the harbor and had come here with a brand-new ship, they probably thought that they could take advantage of some rich merchant fool and cheat him out of some coin without doing any actual work. Those sorts were the ones who most readily gave compliments and made the brashest claims during recruitment.

However, they had severely underestimated Sami's own determination for success, as well as his poverty. Due to his own heavy investment in the ship, he was careful with every copper he spent, so he quickly sorted out the most useless among his prospective sailors. Of course, his inexperience would still prove problematic in the process. He had to learn the business as he went along, and as quickly as possible. Thus, while he was busy interviewing potential recruits for his crew, he also paid experienced, known sailors from around the harbor good money to impart their experience.

Among them, Qawa was the one who taught him the most. From the grumpy old man who had been a fisherman half his life and a sailor for the rest, he had learned how to read a map, how to read the weather, and how to read his crew, even though the old man himself could barely read in the first place. Even so, he had much wisdom to impart, and his meticulous and direct personality appealed to Sami as well.

Thus, since this old inhabitant of Saniya harbor was working for him as a teacher already, the young captain simply asked Qawa directly to help him sift through the applicants in between lessons. With his help, Sami had managed to weed out all the wastes in advance, and even found a few hidden gems during recruitment.

Of course, all of Qawa's suggestions had been double-checked through Chanca's own connections, to make sure the old sailor was trustworthy. In the end, the only crooks who made it into their fleet were some of Chanca's own followers, members of Ekkoko's gang who were there to guarantee their boss' investment.

Over a month of working together, Sami had determined that he could trust the old sailor, and had since then begun the difficult of convincing the old man. Although it had taken a while, Qawa had finally agreed with the comment: 'If I have to die, it may as well be on a shiny, new ship'. Apart from Qawa's trustworthiness and competence, Sami also particularly liked his quartermaster's fearless mouth, which would just spout whatever he felt like, much to his captain's amusement, just as he did today.

"Captain, the fool is making trouble outside again," the old quartermaster repeated in an exhausted tone, huffing as if his complaint was made in regards to the nightly howling of the neighborhood's stray cats. "I suggest we stop them before they start a brawl and half our fleet gets locked up by the local guards before we can set off."

Oh, sounds like my fellow captain is having far too much fun, Sami thought. 'Fool' was what Qawa would usually call Chanca, so Sami was already quite sure he knew what was going on. Still, just in case he was wrong, he decided to ask his quartermaster for more details.

"Did it really look that bad?"

"Not quite, but you know how the fool is," the old sailor replied and shrugged as if his answer was obvious. "He can kick off a brawl for any reason, or none at all. Maybe some fop will look at him the wrong way for a moment, and then the whole dock will be ablaze. We should prevent the fire before it happens, I think."

Although Sami thought Qawa's assessment of Chanca was a bit much, he also couldn't disagree. His friend really tended towards an 'act-first-ask-later' approach in life.

"Fine then, seems like I should go take a look, at least," he admitted, but not without adding a warning for his first mate. "But stop calling him 'fool'. He's your captain, too."

After all, it was necessary to maintain strict order at sea. That was something Qawa himself had taught Sami. However, the first mate only scoffed at the rebuke.

"He's only my captain at sea. I'll start respecting him once we set out. So long as we're still docked, he is only a fool to me."

This time, Sami didn't remind Qawa again. It was useless to argue with the stubborn old man, and he wasn't entirely wrong anyways. Sami wouldn't care about Qawa's attitude at port, so long as he acted appropriately at sea. In that regard, he had full trust in his quartermaster.

As they talked, Qawa and Sami made their way to the port-side stern of the Suyana. From here, he could overlook the pier behind their ship. Under the sounds of more salutes from his men, Sami made his way to the railing. Rather than reply to the numerous voices, he focused on the impressive sight of Saniya's civilian harbor.

Before he had scored his job with the TaSa manufactory, he had sometimes worked day jobs in the harbor to get by. Since that time, the harbor had grown to at least thrice its size over the course of only a few years. Even so, everything still felt cramped and improvised, as capacity struggled to keep up with the massive demand for ever more transportation. Even the advanced systems of pulleys and levers installed all along the docks were not enough to service all the ships eager to enter port.

However, Sami had no time to marvel at the busy port. Rather, as soon as he looked to the north, to the group of ships docked next to their own, he immediately spotted the problem.

Yepp, that's them, all right, Sami thought, and watched Chanca in an argument with two people in front of the neighboring dock. There they are again, the bearded fools.

To be honest, over the past month of hard work, Sami himself had almost forgotten about the two jokers from the stock exchange who had insulted him and had then revealed all their clever plans for no reason in particular.

However, it seemed like Chanca had never been able to let go, even though he had barely talked to them back then. At the very least, Sami didn't think it was a coincidence that their own ships had ended up docked right next to this merchant fleet, which had been newly acquired by these bearded merchants from the Kingdom of Northern Medala. Considering the arrogance of flying an enemy kingdom's flag in the southern kingdom's capital atop their masts, figuring out their identities hadn't taken any genius deductions on Sami's part. The northern kingdom's triquetra on yellow was in plain view for everyone to see.

Although they were fools, at least in one regard, the two hadn't lied: They were certainly rich. Their fleet consisted of five galleons, any of which looked far more impressive than their own two-ship mini fleet. While Sami and Chanca's ships were more slender, offering a compromise between speed, tonnage and combativeness, the five northern ships were pure merchant vessels, wide and bulky, to maximize the size of their cargo hold. Their flag ship alone looked like it had more than twice the tonnage of Sami's own Suyana.

On the dock in front of this impressive fleet, Chanca and the two fools currently stood opposite each other, and it seemed like they had been locking heads for some time already. By now, the bearded fools were screaming at Chanca with red faces, while his friend stood before them with his arms crossed, sporting a cocky grin to make his face seem extra punchable.

Clearly, he was making trouble for them somehow, and was having fun while doing it. Maybe the pulley next to their ships was out of order again, or the port authority had shown up with new documents again to delay their departure. Sami wondered how much of his time over the past month Chanca had wasted just trying to figure out what these people were doing, where they had docked their fleet, and then plotting to trouble them for talking back to him at the stock exchange the one time.

Although Sami didn't really know what Chanca had in store for these guys, Ekkoko was just about the most influential man at the harbor. Surely, the underground prince of Saniya could create all kinds of trouble for them with only a few words. Clearly, Chanca was having fun annoying their new neighbors — just how Sami had predicted — and clearly, the fools were powerless to stop him. Why else would they yap at him like two blustering dogs?

Although the northern crew of the northern fools had begun to assemble around them to increase the weight of their words, Sami wasn't worried about Chanca's safety in the slightest. Already, he could see some of the dock workers forming into groups in the distance, many of them surely on Ekkoko's payroll.

If these bearded fools really dared to attack the young master of Saniya harbor, these workers would rush in to defend their territory, and teach these foreigners some harsh life lessons in the process. Thus, Sami simply relaxed as he turned his head towards Qawa, whose face had taken on an even more sour look in the face of Chanca's escapades.

"No need to care about them. Chanca has it under control," Sami said, and patted his quartermaster's shoulder. "Just get us ready to set sail. The tide is about to turn. Once he's played enough, he'll stop on his own, and then it's time for us to set out."

"Aye aye, captain," the old man said without hesitation. Despite his own feelings, he was always impeccable when it came to his duties.

As Qawa left to convey his captain's orders to the rest of the crew, Sami stopped looking at the conflict in the distance as well. Such minor issues were hardly worth his time, not when Chanca was far better equipped to deal with them. Instead, Sami once more stared out into the harbor, though his eyes barely registered the bustling of the ships this time.

Instead, he looked farther, beyond the delta of the Mayura River, past Rapra Castle and beyond the horizon, out into the open sea. Somewhere out there, a brand new path into the future was about to open up for him. It filled him with anticipation and dread, in equal measure.

Hermit's Notes: Gonna be two chapters today. There's more action in the next one, I promise.

Chapter 491 - Captain

So that makes 104 tons of fertilizer bound for the Verdant Isles, which checks with our sales receipt. Very nice, no problems here.

The brand-new ship's most secure cargo hold was placed in the lower deck. Despite its position below sea level, it was dark, but dry, and was now filled with a pungent smell owed to their first ever cargo.

Sami rubbed his nose to drive away the biting stench and quickly wrote down a confirmation in his written calculations, before he looked over his notes one more time. Although he was sure that the details had been considered well, he still wouldn't feel satisfied until he reexamined all the work he had done today, just to be safe.

Apart from the fertilizer, their ship had also loaded forty-seven tons of soap. He hoped to sell both on the Verdant Isles. Though to his surprise, it had been his friend Chanca who had suggested both goods to be transported.

Even if he was usually critical of Chanca's judgment, Sami didn't complain about either choice. Based on his own assumptions, both goods would be worthwhile investments. Right now, Saniya and the Verdant Isles were nominally ruled by the same people, King Corcopaca and Queen Sumaci. It was reasonable to assume that their rulers would implement many of the same policies in both kingdoms. Thus, the popularization of soap in Saniya would surely be followed over there as well, so they would surely find many willing buyers for their soap in Rasacopa.

As far as the fertilizer was concerned, the crown had taken great pains to reclaim ever more farmland in the marshes around Saniya. They had also implemented a policy which promised large tracts of land to anyone who was willing to go to the Verdant Isles and work there as a farmer. Before Ulan's pregnancy, he had even considered going himself, which was how he knew about the policy in the first place.

Thus armed with knowledge, he was certain that those migrants would need plenty of fertilizer for all their newly reclaimed farms on the Verdant Isles. Though in the first place, he really didn't need to put that much thought into it. Saniya's artificial fertilizer was a precious good he could sell anywhere, no matter how much he bought.

That, of course, was the main problem. Even if Sami knew that the fertilizer was a valuable trade good, he could have never bought any of it by himself. As one of the miracle king's great inventions — as well as one of Saniya's specialty products — sale of the fertilizer was heavily restricted. Only vetted individuals would have the chance to even apply for a purchase order at the royal manufactory. Although Sami didn't know the details, he was certain that Chanca's connections through his father-in-law had made the difference in their purchase, just how they had made the difference in the purchase of their ships, at least when it came to the price.

After Sami had checked his numbers once again, he turned towards Titu, his ship's purser, who was responsible for the administration of the ship's cargo and supplies.

"Titu, take this and enter it into the ship's archive. Make sure to avoid mistakes, these numbers are now the most important piece of knowledge aboard this ship," he emphasized, while he handed over his notes.

"Aye, captain," the man replied, and took the notes with him up to his cabin on the orlop deck. Since his work here was done as well, Sami followed the man, though not before he had secured his property first. Finally finished, he thought, as he closed up the metal grate behind him, locked their cargo up with a key, and walked up the wooden stairs.

Over the course of the day, Sami had checked all of their cargo once again, to make sure they weren't running light on any of their load. After all, any gram of goods would be worth coin in Rasacopa, the destination of their journey. As a new merchant who was about to run his first route, he couldn't afford to waste anything. Luckily, profits on this dangerous route would be very generous, at least if everything went to plan.

This had become even more true ever since the war had intensified. At the moment, the crown's own navy was too busy fighting the Colored Kings and didn't have the capacity to support the Verdant Isles with necessary goods. Thus, Rasacopa needed to be supplied by private merchants, even the medalan troops stationed there. Although the current state of affairs would make their trip a good bit more dangerous, it would also net them nice, large profit margins for essential products like the ones on his ship. Though not everyone had the same focus and foresight as the young captain.

Sami's own vessel had only loaded fertilizer and soap, but Chanca had insisted on buying some porcelain as well, much to Sami's confusion. They were going to travel west. The people of the Verdant Isles were still embroiled in a war and had no interest in luxury goods, nor the money to buy them. Meanwhile, the Chutwa Empire further west was the source of the best porcelain in the world. The most excellent examples of such products weren't called 'Chutwa glaze' for nothing, after all.

Still, Chanca had reassured him that he already had a buyer for their cargo lined up, though he wouldn't say who. In the end, Sami had just stopped asking once his friend had mentioned his father-in-law again. After all, the former carpenter with a preference for safety really didn't want to get dragged into criminal activity, at least not any more than he already was. Thus, he had simply accepted that they might be carrying some worthless cargo — or possibly hidden smuggled goods inside — and left it at that.

All the more reason to make sure nothing goes wrong with the rest of our freight, he thought as he made his way up to the ship's orlop deck. Here, hidden behind the hammocks for the crew, he could see their cannons tied up and stowed away next to their corresponding gunports.

As he walked through the deck towards the next set of stairs, sailors everywhere greeted him politely with a salute and a "Captain." At first, such respect had been a strange feeling for Sami, who had always been a worker and never a master, but he had quickly gotten used to it. After all, the total size of his crew was a full thirty-five souls, so aboard his ship, he would hear the same words of respect over and over again.

Now that he was a master of this great vessel, he no longer had to feel inadequate when he received the respect of the men he was now responsible for. Still, from time to time he had to remind himself of his new responsibility. Otherwise, he would have floated away from overconfidence.

Their ship — the Suyana — was a mid-sized galleon, about 38 meters in length and with a total displacement of 350 tons. As a hybrid between a merchant ship and a military vessel, there was plenty of room for cannons, as well as cargo. In total, a fully stocked galleon of this size and make would be able to carry 22 guns in total. This included six 6-kilo cannons on each side of the orlop deck, four smaller 4-kilo cannons on the sides of the upper deck, and another two 4-kilo cannons each as chaser guns on the bow and stern.

Though their actual equipment didn't end up being quite so complete, despite Chanca's connections. Still, his friend had somehow managed to buy them six of the large cannons, and another six of the small ones for this ship alone. Thus, he had three 6-kilo and two 4-kilo guns on each side, as well as two more in the back.

For his chaser guns, Sami had opted against installing any in the front. After all, he was going out there to earn a living, not to chase down other ships. If there ever was a violent engagement and their enemies turned to flee, there was no reason to pursue them, as far as Sami was concerned. Instead, he would much rather stay on course and deliver the valuable goods in his cargo hold. In that regard, these weapons certainly gave him some peace of mind.

Any pirates who stood in their way would be in for a rude awakening. After all, who would expect such an excessive amount of force from a mere merchant ship? Still, they were traveling into dangerous waters, and some pirates may be stupid, or desperate, enough to attack them anyways. They had to be prepared for anything. One day, these weapons could be the difference between a successful delivery of their goods and a life of slavery, or even death.

Thus, Sami had checked the workmanship on all the cannons, as well as the quality of their powder and cannon balls over and over, to guarantee everything was in order. In fact, Sami had checked just about everything on the Suyana, from the bow to the stern and the mast to the keel. Putting together the rations alone had been a whole ordeal, from hard tack, to smoked ham, and lemon water, which apparently was one of the many innovations King Corcopaca had personally introduced into his fleets.

It had been a bit more than a moon since they had bought their ship at Saniya's stock exchange. In that time, Sami had spent most of his days at the harbor buying drinks for the old sailors, eager to learn everything there was to learn about the seafaring business. At the same time, he had taken extra lessons to learn more about business at the royal school. To his luck, he had found a special course designed for those who wanted to start their own company, but didn't know as much as the basics of running one.

Through relentless effort, Sami couldn't quite claim to be an expert on anything related to the merchant business, but at least he now knew enough to check that all the work from his hired people was in order. For him, that much was the minimum requirement if he wanted to come along on the Suyana's first journey.

As a shareholder with a ten percent stake in the ship, of course he didn't have to join this dangerous trip at all. Instead, he could simply stay at home and wait for the crew to do the work for him, and then count his money upon their return. However, it didn't feel right doing it that way, and neither did it feel safe.

He had invested all of his family's fortune in this endeavor, so he was obligated to supervise every detail. He had to make sure that their first journey would be a success, and also that his fresh crew wouldn't be tempted to simply run away with his property if he left them to their own devices. At least that much responsibility, he owed his wife and unborn child.

Beyond the weight of responsibility, he would also feel useless if he just wasted away at home while others were working hard to earn money for himself. His yearning for the exotic sights of foreign countries were a secret extra reason for his journey, of course, one he couldn't even tell his wife.

Whatever the reason, he now had begun to understand the ins and outs of sailing, which meant he could check on the work of his crew. Due to his nature, he wouldn't rest until he had guaranteed perfection, to maximize their chances of success and put his mind at ease.

Thus, apart from studying, he had also spent the best part of the month checking their ships completely, up and down, again and again pointing out and fixing even the smallest problems he could spot. He had even slept on the ship most days and had the sailors take it out around the harbor a few times, just to get used to the swaying, and to establish and internalize a proper chain of command while stakes were still low.

In contrast, Chanca's attitude had been a lot more casual. He had also hung around the harbor for most of last month, but only because it was the territory controlled by his father-in-law Ekkoko. As a result, Sami would sweat aboard his ship and watch as Chanca walked around the pier and accepted free drinks and cheap flattery from all kinds of people, all of whom were eager to gain favor with his gangster father. From Sami's perspective, his friend was enjoying his time off as others did the heavy lifting for him.

Though of course, Sami had no right to complain. He understood that Chanca had put down most of the money for their ships, and also that he was responsible for providing the connections they needed to trade oversees in the first place.

Without him, they wouldn't even be able to get a place to dock, nor a warehouse to store their goods over the past month. In the first place, they wouldn't even have been able to buy many of their goods without Chanca's help, nor their cannons, the only reason he was confident to sail west. Just through Ekkoko's support, Chanca was already doing more work for them than Sami ever could, without lifting a single finger.

Since Sami already felt indebted to his friend, he didn't mind taking over most of the practical work. Otherwise, he would have felt completely useless, just collecting money because his friend was nice enough to take him along for the ride. After all, Chanca was rich enough, or at least his father-in-law was. They certainly didn't need the pitiful savings from Sami's family to help them buy a ship. Thus, the only reason to bring him along — apart from their old friendship and maybe Chanca's pity — was Sami's critical and detail-oriented nature. It was this nature he aimed to show to its fullest to guarantee great profits.

Still, as he watched Chanca play around, he couldn't help but feel torn between a sense of gratitude and responsibility, as well as annoyance at his friend's laziness. While he climbed up the steps to the main deck, he reminded himself to focus on his own faults, and to not judge his friend too harshly.

Hermit's Notes: A bit of a slower one this time, more of a setup chapter, so we know the setting we will spend some time on from now. I also thought such a walk through a ship might be neat, I hope it wasn't too dry.

Chapter 490 - Fools

"If you cannot pay, rube, then simply disappear from this place," a rude voice with a foreign accent interrupted Sami from behind.

Before he could even turn to face his detractor, a second voice had already added to the first: "Maybe the squalor of the commoner huts outside would be more fitting for a poor sod like this."

When Sami finally turned, he saw a thin man with a mean face sneering at him. At least Sami thought he was sneering, since most of the man's face was covered by a long, black beard. Not only he, his companion next to him was also bearded, and looked like an overall enhanced version of the first. It wasn't just that he was half a head taller and maybe twice the weight of the first man, his face was also even meaner than the first's, completely looking down on Sami, both literally and figuratively.

Based on the fancy, white robes the pair wore, it seemed like they were rich men, so it was no wonder they were belittling an obviously poor commoner like Sami. Still, being insulted like this didn't feel good, especially when he had just mustered a modicum of confidence by learning the operation of the stock exchange.

"Even if I can't buy anything, it would only be to your benefit, masters, as you would have less competition. Surely, there's no need for your animosity, to the point of denying my mere presence," he replied in a dry tone which was calmer and more confident than his actual feelings.

Before the two strangers could reply, Sami turned, to once again study the prices of the ships. Maybe there was a cheaper offer he had overlooked. However, the mean voices returned and forced him to turn around again.

"Truly as expected of the poor southern barbarians. No wonder you people have no courage to send a single man beyond the Narrows," the big stranger said.

"Yes indeed, only the unlearned would fail to understand that the mere presence of a fool would diminish the quality of a room," the skinny stranger added.

No wonder these people look so strange. They're outsiders from the north, Sami concluded based on their statements. Even so, despite their insults, the craftsman wasn't willing to fight back. While he wouldn't bow down to cheap provocations like this, he also couldn't start a fight and get kicked out of the exchange on his first day. After all, he didn't want to ruin his future over a squabble.

"So it seems like you're valued guests to our lands," Sami thus said to calm things down, before he hinted: "In that case, I suggest you should try to respect your hosts a bit more. Wouldn't such behavior be more appropriate for higher status masters such as yourselves?"

The two foreigners were either fools or confident in their skills, since they didn't even flinch in the face of the local's warning.

"Hah! What respect do barbarians command?" the big one offered a fake, derisive laugh, before the skinny one added: "Listen well, rube. This master is a true scholar, who has studied the classics and proven himself among his peers."

So they are fools then, Sami concluded.

Didn't these two understand that offending the locals like this would only get them robbed or killed? Not that he himself would do something to them, of course. He wasn't so easily offended, but others wouldn't be so kind. His friend Chanca for example would rip them apart if he heard them talk like that. Even the friendly-to-indifferent desk man next to Sami now wore a sour face, surely a poor initial condition for a business transaction. Whatever fees had to be paid in this place, they would no doubt double or triple for these fools.

Of course, none of that was Sami's business. He didn't care if the foreigners were eager to pay extra, or die an early death. Even so, while these two were still alive, they could be a valuable resource.

Rather, it was better that they were fools. It only made them more valuable. The nice thing about fools was that they were easily led. Back when he had worked as a barman at Ekkoko's tavern, Sami had managed to extract much useful knowledge from his simpler patrons by leading them on in just the same way. Although these fools weren't drunk, surely, they would also have some useful — or maybe even valuable — information to extract.

Who knew, maybe they were even foreign spies. In that case, if Sami could uncover their true identities, he could collect a heavy bounty and solve his money problem immediately. Thus, with nothing to lose and nothing better to do, Sami decided to give it a try.

"Right. In that case, why is such a great scholar wasting his precious time among us barbarians?"

Although Sami's tone was biting, he also tried to sound bitter at the same time, all in an attempt to act out the role of a defeated, yet defiant loser. In the face of such pettiness, these guests from afar would be eager to show off their perceived greatness some more, while showing their hands in the process. At least they would if they truly were fools.

To his surprise, Sami's plan worked much better than he ever could have hoped. For a second, the self-proclaimed scholar looked embarrassed by the question, before he seemed to regain his confidence and puffed out his bony chest for a reply.

"Of course, this great scholar is here on an important mission entrusted to him directly by the Scholarly Council," he claimed.

So baffled was Sami by the statement that he could only stare in response. The awkward silence lasted for a few seconds, until the carpenter regained his wits.

"Are you sure you should be telling me that?" he finally asked. Had this fool really just admitted that he was the agent of an enemy country?

Sami's question wasn't intended as a warning this time, nor as another bait. Instead, he was genuinely concerned about this fool's mental health. Though on the other hand, he could already hear the silver fall into his bag. Were these two really spies?

In response to Sami's question, the lanky fool's embarrassed expression returned again as he fell silent, clearly aware that he had said more than he should. Somehow, his ridiculous behavior managed to calm Sami down even more. If these people were this incompetent — possibly even spies sent on an important mission — then surely they couldn't be that much greater than him, even with all their money, even with their government support.

"No, please don't let me stop you. Do go on," Sami added with a grin. For a moment, the expression on the skinny foreigner's face froze as he realized that the 'rube' was making fun of him, before his eyebrows pulled together in anger.

"It matters not," he huffed and threw his hand around like he was trying to swat away a fly. "There is no need to hide the truth, for the wise scholar king's plans cannot be stopped by the mere thoughts of a common man."

Right. Sounds like you're just making excuses, Sami thought, and looked over to the tall foreigner. Though it seems like your friend doesn't mind.

Next to the skinny scholar, the tall man's face retained the stony sneer from before. Since neither of these two seemed to understand the gravity of their situation, Sami decided to take the chance and ask a few more questions. The better his information, the more money he would receive for it later.

"Is that so?" he thus asked in a snide tone. "What is your wise king plotting, then? I'd love to see if he really is as brilliant as you claim."

"No need to tempt us, rube," skinny sneered, and looked mightily tempted to just babble on. Yet before he did so, he looked over to his tall friend, who thought for a second, before he shrugged. Only then did skinny continue. "As the Scholarly Court's plans cannot be prevented, this scholar shall indulge your insolence. After all, this conspiracy is no conspiracy at all, for it merely takes advantage of your foolish king's idiocy, open and aboveboard. This so-called miracle king of yours has spent so much coin to build this new market of his, all to sell his ships to the cheap commoners under his estate. Yet rubes such as you have no wealth to take advantage of such gifts. Just look at your dress."

Sami simply smiled at the insult and patiently waited to hear their actual plan, ready to tell the first policeman he saw later. Not long after, the arrogant foreigner indeed continued.

"Yet when your foolish king made his foolish plans, he forgot to exclude from purchase those from other lands. Rather than the local poors taking advantage of your king's generosity, it will be the wise scholars of northern Medala who shall travel here to buy anything of value for cheap. With these ships, we shall travel back and forth between the kingdoms of Medala, and thus extract all remaining wealth from your cheap lands, until you are all destitute, your lands laid bare for the wise scholars of the north to liberate you from barbarity."

And most likely, you're after our ships' construction methods as well.

While Sami didn't know much about such things, at least he knew that the new, oriental ship designs of Saniya's craftsmen were far superior to traditional medalan warships. Not to mention, most northern warships had been sunk in repeated conflicts with the southern kingdom, so there was a need for them to replenish their fleets.

The more Sami thought about this plan from the northerners, the more he thought it made sense. By buying these ships, they could steal Saniya's superior technology, while also taking advantage of the miracle king's favorable sales conditions. Worst of all, this was indeed an open conspiracy. Even if he went to the police with this information, they wouldn't be able to do much, since these northerners weren't — strictly speaking — breaking any laws.

Upon this realization, Sami could feel the unfamiliar fire of rage rise within his belly. Here he was, thinking he would make a fortune on spies, and then he found out they were just particularly foolish merchants, wasting his time with their nonsense. As he felt the silver in his pocket float away, real anger replaced the previous, fake derision.

"Sounds like you guys are just afraid of the southern kingdom. Instead of fighting us upright — like proper Medalans — you sneak around the back and try to pick our pockets," Sami complained while he sported a sneer designed to enrage the fools as much as their antics had enraged him.

"A wise man would never attack a castle's strongest point. How could a rube understand the wisdom of the scholars?" the tall fool quibbled, before the skinny fool added: "Why waste any more time with such rubes?"

By now, Sami's anger had washed away his feelings of inferiority. Thus, it had also restored his usual confidence, and with it, his analytical mind. After thinking about the northerner's plan for a moment, he realized that it was nothing short of ridiculous. By now, he no longer wanted to avoid conflict, and his expected bounty was also long gone. Yet if nothing else, at least he would make sure that these foreigners would leave this place in as poor a mood as himself.

Just as the two scholars wanted to turn and leave, Sami couldn't help himself any longer and shot back: "Right. So in order to extract the wealth of Saniya, it sounds like you guys will spend a fortune in silver to buy our ships." Sami sneered. The more he thought about their plan, the more ridiculous it seemed. "Then, you will use those ships to run the trade routes in the Verduic Sea, which means that every time you dock, load or unload anywhere in southern Medala, or on any of the Verdant Isles, you will hand even more silver to that barbarian kingdom in the south, the one you despise so much. If your plan was to take our wealth, then I doubt you thought it through very much."

Much unlike Sami's earlier, calm response to the constant insults, the skinny fool's face turned redder and redder in response to Sami's sarcastic rant.

"What would a poor rube understand?" the scholar shouted, wide-mouthed and uncontrolled. Finally, Sami was thankful for the man's beard, or he would have surely experienced rain indoors. Just as he wanted to return some more harsh words and then leave the fools to themselves, his plans were interrupted by a surprise visitor.

"What's going on here? You making new friends?" Chanca asked, as he pushed through the modest crowd which had formed around them to watch the excitement.

"Not exactly." Sami waved away the question, before he changed topics."Did you find anything good?"

"Yeah, I looked around a bit and found a ship that would be perfect for us. The guy says we'll get a good deal on it, if you know what I mean."

As far as Sami was concerned, he rather wouldn't know the details, but he would still gladly come with Chanca to look at their prospective ship's cost. He was done with the fools anyway, so he was glad that their conversation would lead them away from here. Yet just as he was about to ask Chanca to show him in detail, the fools shoved their way right back into their private talk.

"A ship? As in a single one?" the skinny fool shrieked, as if he wanted the entire hall to hear. In a horrible acting job, he laughed a fake laugh, before he turned towards his tall companion. "Oh, why would this scholar ever waste his breath on these poors?"

"Indeed. If this is the best these poors can do, then the north will soon overwhelm the south again," the tall one added, surely content that they could embarrass their adversary in front of a crowd. Unfortunately for them, Chanca wasn't half as patient as Sami.

"Who're you calling poor, bozo!" Chanca shouted back. With his gangster's pride triggered by the dismissive tone, he clenched his fists and stepped forward to teach them a lesson, but Sami held him back by the shoulder before he could get them all thrown out of the building.

"Calm down. There's police present," he said, and nodded in the direction of the uniformed men around the premises. In response, Chanca snorted dismissively and threw off Sami's hand with a shrug of his shoulder. Still, at least he no longer tried to rush the two fools head-on. Unfortunately for the fools, they seemed to mistake restraint for fear and kept pushing their luck.

"Yes, calm down, boy. Lest you truly offend us, and then get hurt once we meet at sea," the tall fool claimed in a booming voice.

Again, Sami worried that his friend would explode in anger, yet this time, Chanca simply raised his shirt and revealed a pistol underneath. While Sami was still panicking, looking around the room to check if anyone in the crowd had spotted Chanca's covert action, his gangster friend had already hidden the weapon again.

"You better stop talking and start walking, smart ass," he said. "Or I'll scalp that scraggly beard as a trophy."

Finally, the two fools seemed to have understood that they were in a weak position here, and that their big mouths were about to get themselves killed. For a few, endless seconds, they stared at Chanca with horrified eyes, before they turned around to leave. Though even then, the bigger of the fools couldn't refrain from making a comment.

"Hmph, truly a rube," he said towards his fellow scholar. "Well then, let us go. We need to take some time to put together our fleet. After all, we will need to be informed if we wish to purchase more than merely a single ship."

In response to their repeated provocation, Chanca once again took a step to catch up to them. Yet again, Sami held him back.

"Leave it. They're not worth it," he said. This time, he didn't have to work hard to hold back his friend. Rather than angry, Chanca's scary smile made it clear that he was looking forward to their next meeting with the fools. It looked like he was ready to cause pain to someone.

"They best hope we never meet them out on the water, or they'll get what's coming to them," Chanca said. "Look at this."

As he spoke, he pulled from his pocket a rolled-up piece of paper. Although he acted like he wanted to show Sami, he barely flashed the contents of the scroll before he put it away again. It certainly wasn't long enough for Sami to read anything.

"What was that?" he thus had to ask, which prompted an even nastier grin from Chanca.

"It's a privateering license," he whispered back, as he looked around to make sure no one in the dispersing crowd was close enough to hear him. "Father got it for us. If we ever come across those guys somewhere out there, we'll just hold them at gunpoint and rob them blind."

"Wait, I thought the plan was to be merchants," a shocked Sami shouted, before he caught himself and completed in a whisper: "not pirates!"

However, Chanca only slapped him on the chest and said: "Come on, let's go check out our prospective ship. I got no idea about those things, so I need your keen eye to help me out," before he walked towards the entrance of the hall.

As he watched Chanca's confident back, Sami suddenly began to worry for his future again. Whether they would act as merchants or pirates in the future, he felt like his friend was far too eager for either, and far too quick to start trouble. As he imagined all the problems they would cause out at sea, his confidence took a hit once again.

Chapter 489 - Stock Exchange

From the outside, Saniya's new stock exchange didn't look like much. The building made of cheap brick and cement was certainly large, but it looked no different from the countless manufactories which had sprung up around the city these last few years. After all, this was the cheapest way to quickly build something of this size, so every large building ended up looking roughly the same. Still, even among manufactory buildings, this one didn't look particularly large, nor particularly special.

"Are you sure this is it?" a skeptical Sami asked. "It looks worse than my old workplace."

"Don't be fooled, my friend. This place is a much bigger deal than it looks," Chanca replied. "If I didn't get the tip from father, we wouldn't even get the chance to be here. Father says that one day soon, this will be the place where all the money in the city is made. Come on, let's go in, and see what it's all about."

As he spoke, Chanca pushed open the unguarded door and stepped into a large, open hall. Only here did the first guards appear, something Sami had expected on the outside of a supposedly important building like this. However, while they only showed up inside, their quality was surprising. Unlike the simple watchmen one would find at any manufactory — usually the goon enforcers of the master — actual policemen stood guard on both sides of the door. However, Sami barely noticed them.

His entire field of view was occupied by a massive blackboard hung up high on the other end of the hall, covered over and over with characters and numbers, in a complex system Sami was too stupid or uneducated to understand. On five places along the blackboard, long ladders led up behind it, with people atop them scribbling something or other. Though since they were on the opposite side of the board,it was impossible to see what they were doing, exactly.

Underneath the blackboard, numerous desks were set up, with complex looking machines atop them. Presumably, this was where all the buying and selling would be going on, at least if Chanca's claim of this place's purpose was to be believed. Every desk was manned by an official-looking worker, and to the side, there was a long counter with yet more workers behind it.

Clearly, there was a method to the madness, as everything seemed set up with some purpose in mind, though Sami couldn't quite tell what that purpose was meant to be.

Although the place seemed well set up, somehow, it still felt a bit strange. It took Sami a few seconds of silent ponder until he realized the problem.

"I mean, it looks nice and all, but there isn't much going on, is there?" he finally concluded.

Although everything seemed primed for purpose, there were only a few people wandering around the large hall. Most of the workers at the tables had nothing to do, and were casually talking to each other instead. As far as Sami could tell, there were actually more workers than customers in here.

"Still early days, my friend. The bloody thing only opened yesterday," Chanca explained. "Father says that Rapra is gonna tell people about it one of these days. But until then, only a few important figures know about this place. Most of the those are fat merchants. They don't care about these new ideas of our king, I guess. So they stay away."

"So this place is still unknown in the city? Like a secret opening? Why would the crown do that?" Sami wondered, before he came up with a likely explanation. "Maybe they're trying to test it first, to see if everything runs smoothly, before they allow masses of people inside and get overwhelmed? Having their fancy new marketplace fail on the first day would probably harm the crown's reputation. That might also be why the outside still looks so unremarkable."

Predictably, Chanca only lazily shrugged in response to Sami's guess.

"Don't know, don't care," he said, and began to walk deeper into the half-empty hall. "I just know that it's good for us. Less competition means cheaper ships. And we'll need every discount we can get, since we don't have much coin to play around with."

The words made Sami blush. Of course, he knew that his friend had more than enough money. Maybe Chanca himself wasn't rich, but his gangster father-in-law Ekkoko certainly had enough silver stashed to buy an entire fleet. The only one who didn't have enough was Sami, who had taken all of his and Ulan's savings, and it still would only be enough to pay for a small fraction of one ship.

Yet Chanca didn't blame him, and didn't embarrass him for his poverty. Thankful for his friend's considerate words, Sami just mumbled his agreement and carefully observed the room as he followed.

"Speaking of discounts," Chanca broke through the awkward silence and pointed at one desk in the corner which had a few more customers around it than other places. "I think I heard someone talk about ships over there. I'll talk to the guy in charge, maybe say father's name a few times to make them drop the price a bit. We can forget about a five-finger-discount, but a clenched fist discount should always work, right? Wanna tag along?"

For a second, Sami stared at the distant and weighed his options, before he shook his head.

"I don't think I have anything of value to contribute," he said in the end. "I'll just look around the place. I'm curious how everything works here."

In the end, Sami thought this was a better use of his time. While Chanca would use his family connections to intimidate the local officials, he would collect information to make sure they wouldn't get scammed somewhere Chanca couldn't see. Luckily, his friend didn't insist.

"Then I'll be right back," he just said, and sauntered towards the counter which was presumably selling ships, somehow.

"Right. Good luck," Sami replied, but his friend was already on his way.

For a while, his eyes followed Chanca's back, until he merged into the small crowd around the desk.

Although Chanca had talked like he was getting ready to buy a ship immediately, that wasn't something he could do in the first place. After all, Sami was still clutching his bag of money to his chest. How would he buy anything without the money?

Not to mention, based on the complicated setup of desks, writing boards, and inexplicable machinery in the hall, it looked like buying anything here would be a fairly involved process. It was certainly not something a newcomer could handle with a few words.

At most, Chanca would be able to collect some info on the prices of available ships over at his desk, and maybe make his name known to intimidate them in advance. Sami didn't have to be present for any of that.

Instead, he breathed in the smells of fresh paint and wood polish — smells which reminded him of his old work — as he sauntered around the hall. Like the outsider he was, he remained an earnest observer towards all the busy people throughout the hall, all of them eagerly betting on their futures. As he realized that their goals were the same as his, Sami finally calmed down somewhat.

Though even then, he still wouldn't loosen the grip on his bag. Until they bought their ship, this bag still represented all his potential for the future. Now all he had to do was convert this potential into truth. For that, he needed — above all else — more knowledge.

Thus, he sauntered around the place for a while, listening in on conversations in an attempt to figure out the way business was done here, always in the background to avoid embarrassment or suspicion. Every time he heard someone shout a number, he slowed down to listen more closely. Soon, he was shocked by the crazy figures being thrown around so casually. Were there really this many rich men in the city? How could they spend such sums so casually?

Eventually, Sami ended up near the giant blackboard, so large that he had to stretch his neck and take three steps back just to read it. Row upon row, the white lines formed numbers and characters, all of which represented staggering sums of gold and silver, as he had now learned from the various conversations around him. Sami had a hard time even imagining all the wealth written down on this thin piece of stone.

The more he heard and saw, the more he realized that he didn't belong here, not even with his and Ulan's entire savings in tow. The more this was the case, the less could he let others see his poverty. If he did, he would never belong to the people in this room, which was the very reason he had taken this risk in the first place. Thus, he quickly moved to a quiet corner in the building, and then hid his little bag of money by tying it around his neck and hanging it down his back, hidden by his cloak.

Although the cloak was still cheap, and his poor status was obvious at a glance, at least he would be able to stand upright now, no longer hunched over to protect his possessions. Once he had fixed his appearance, he returned to the blackboard and walked up to a counter which had been devoid of customers ever since his arrival.

"Hello, friend, I have a few questions," he said towards the worker who had his body lazily draped over the counter.

"I am only responsible for settling civil disputes here," he said, without even looking at Sami. "I doubt you already have a business conflict that needs resolving."

"Of course I do, that is why I came here," Sami said, and confidently slipped a few coins across the counter, right in front of the lazy man's face. "I simply also had some more general questions related to civil disputes, if you would be so kind."

Although based on his vague description, Sami wasn't quite sure what the man's actual work entailed, that much didn't matter in the face of silver, or even copper. Immediately, the bored worker prepped up as if he had only been waiting for his opportunity.

"Of course. Informing the public is also part of my work, after all," he said with a beaming smile as he deftly clawed at the coins on the counter. "And since it seems like I will have nothing better to do for now, you may ask away."

"In that case, could you please explain from the start? How is this blackboard read? And how are things like ships being bought and sold here?"

Thus motivated, the desk man patiently explained the details of the stock exchange to Sami. Beyond his payment, he was probably also glad to have something to do for a change, so his explanations were quite detailed. After some time, Sami began to understand.

"So the products need to be registered over there, together with a confirmation of ownership, and information on how much of a percentage one wants to sell, and how many shares in total. Then, potential buyers can buy these shares at a minimum price, or more if there are multiple buyers competing against each other... and the prices are all recorded on the blackboard over there, which is updated once an hour, is that right?" Sami tried to summarize.

"Not exactly, but that should be enough to get started without getting ripped off," the desk man replied, and stared at the giant, mechanical clock which was built into the wall opposite the blackboard, above the entrance. "Ah, it seems like you are in luck. They are about to update their numbers."

In awe, Sami watched as the clock struck to the full hour, literally. As the two pointers aligned, a gong sounded from somewhere. In response, the massive blackboard was flipped around its center, until it was completely turned around. All throughout the hour, the workers on the other side had written down updated numbers with the most recent offers for various stocks, and now they finally revealed the new numbers to the public.

As he saw the process at work, Sami also realized that they must have written down the numbers back there upside down to show them right side up later, which only made their work all the more impressive.

"Unbelievable," Sami muttered, and slowly walked towards the blackboard. He didn't even consider the helpful worker who had explained everything to him any more. All his thoughts were transfixed by this marvelous piece of work.

Not only was he impressed by the craftsmanship such a massive, smooth stone table would entail, he could also finally read the numbers and characters — thanks to the desk man's introduction — and roughly understood what they meant. Now, he was even more baffled by the wealth on display. However, he had come here for a purpose, and he finally had the means to pursue it.

Thus, he first focused on the rows which listed the ships on offer. Apparently, according to the worker, Saniya's navy had set aside a number of outdated vessels for sale to help the opening of the stock exchange and attract clients. The royal shipyard itself had also provided a few additional ships, some of them still under construction in the dry dock. Thus, there was quite the selection.

However, no matter their origin or their make, after searching for some time, Sami realized that they all had one thing in common. Once he multiplied the price for each stock by their total available number, he found that each ship's total cost amounted to a staggering figure.

"Are they sure this is supposed to be in Sila? This is outrageous," Sami muttered under his breath. If all the ships were really this expensive, then Ulan's money wouldn't even be enough to pay for a tenth of one of these. Once again, the feeling grew that he didn't belong.

As he stood there, faced with such impossible costs, worries over his future returned as well. Though fortunately, his thoughts were quickly interrupted, even though the cause of the interruption itself was anything but fortunate.

"If you cannot pay, rube, then simply disappear from this place," a rude voice with a foreign accent interrupted him from behind.

Hermit's Notes: Had to take a few days, since this chapter and the next one took a bit of extra work to finish. I think I stuffed in too much in the process of rewriting and the whole thing became confused. Anyways, I've fixed it now, so there will be three chapters today.

Chapter 488 - Anxious Dreams

As it was a city by the sea, any westerly and northerly breeze would carry salt and moisture through the streets of Saniya. Every breeze would cleanse the streets and buildings. Thus, Saniya had always been a relatively clean city by medalan standards, even when it had been a neglected backwater under Sawo's control.

After the city's sewer system had been built and several sanitation measures had been taken, the city became even cleaner than before. Even here, in a rather ordinary neighborhood near the harbor, the environment was quite pleasant.

After Sami had spent the last two years renting small rooms here and there, he had recently purchased a house of his own, in this very neighborhood. Although the house was small, and the neighborhood poor, at least their little brick-and-concrete home with the white plaster was clean and cozy.

This neighborhood had been recently built to address the city's rapid increase in population. The houses here were cheap, small and mass-produced, in an attempt to provide housing for all the new citizens. Even so, construction could only barely keep up with immigration, so even a humble home like this had come at an outrageous price.

Thus, Sami's family had taken out a large loan to afford it. Luckily, many banks were willing to give good conditions for housing loans to anyone with stable work, not least because a lot of the bankers were also running construction companies on the side these days. Thus burdened with a large debt and now without a job, Sami stood at the start of a long journey. At its end, he would repay everything he owed, or end up bankrupt and homeless.

Back when they had first bought the house, he — a poor craftsman's apprentice from Vallunaraju — had been proud to have his own, to be the first in his family to own a piece of land. Now however, the picturesque little windows looked like scornful eyes, teasing him for his hubris.

Don't be stupid. You already have a plan, just need to go through with it.

Sami shook his head to drive away the uneasy feeling and decisively stepped into the yard and through the front door. As soon as he entered, he saw his wife Ulan wait for him at the top of the stairs.

Even after all these years, her appearance always served to overwhelm Sami, who acted like an experienced grownup in front of others, but was still a boy from the province at heart. Unlike him, his wife was a noble lady from Medala's capital — though her family had become destitute — and she had the bearing to match. With her impeccable aura and outstanding appearance, the former noble lady had quickly become the star of Saniya's royal theater, a position so much higher than his own, and much more profitable. In fact, Ulan's income had been the main reason they had decided to buy a house in the first place.

It was only unfortunate circumstance — as well as his wife's deep-rooted worries about their future — which had forced Sami to take drastic measures and forego his safe job at the manufactory.

"How was it?" Ulan asked, as she gracefully walked down the stairs.

"It went well," Sami replied. As he took off his thin raincoat made of waxed wool, he showed his wife a confident grin and a devious wink while he added: "I am now officially unemployed."

Without a word, Ulan took the kettle of boiling water hanging atop the family hearth and filled a cup for each of them. As usual, the cups would be filled with foraged herbs from outside the city, a cheap tea alternative they could afford, and even then only every once in a while.

Every time he came back from work, Sami would sit down and watch his wife make this tea, just as he did for her when she came home from a performance. The only difference today was that he still wore his cheap boots, since he intended to leave the house again soon.

As he watched his pregnant wife go through their usual routine in silence, Sami's unease rose up through his stomach once again. Even though she was a famous actress in the city, Sami had always been able to read Ulan like an open book. Thus, he could see the worry written on her face, hidden behind a mask of calm elegance. Finally, after Ulan had poured tea for both of them and sat down, he could no longer stand the silence, nor his wife's anxiety.

"Please don't worry too much," he said as he sat down in front of the steaming cup. "Everything will go well."

"You know I dislike your plan," Ulan just replied after a while. "Merchants live dangerous lives even in the best of times. Yet we live in times of war."

Although they had long come to an agreement about his plan, Sami's wife always felt insecure, always looking for more safety in her life.

Only he knew that this confident queen of the stage slept a light and anxious sleep, always on the verge of waking up with a pounding heart. Thus, rather than brush her off with a 'we talked about this' or a 'this was your decision as much as mine', he simply took her hand and put it on the table between them, his atop hers.

"I know, I don't like it either," he finally said into her eyes, while trying to prevent his own anxiety from leaking into his voice. "I don't want to leave you here alone and do something so risky, but we have to do it, for our future."

"Yes, and for the little one," Ulan added, and put her free hand atop her non-existent belly. Even so, Sami could still feel her other hand tense and jitter from nervousness. This was already hard for him, but how much worse would it be for her, who always struggled with her nerves? How bad would it be for their unborn child?

"You know, I don't really have to do it," he concluded, and acted out some confidence to take away his wife's worries. "I can always just go look for other work elsewhere. Your husband's a genius, you know that well. I can do anything."

"And what about the money?" Ulan just asked. Such a simple question, yet it represented an impossible problem for the two of them, as it did for so many in this city. Still, he would rather be poor and happy than risk it all for some unreliable chance at wealth.

"We'll get by somehow. We still have a lot saved up, so we can slowly look for a solution until we run out of savings," Sami thus said, pretending to be calm about their situation.

Maybe, he thought, he would be able to run across another opportunity, one which wouldn't force him so far away from his family, one which wasn't so dangerous. After all, the city was full of opportunities these days. In that case, Ulan would no longer have to worry so much. However, his attempts to calm his wife only made her frown.

"Sometimes, you are too flighty. You cannot always turn your back and take the easy route when you face trouble," she admonished him.

Ever since she had learned about her pregnancy, Ulan had become a lot more judgmental, no doubt worried about their future. Sami himself also realized that this indecisiveness was a big problem of his. He tended to consider problems from every angle, which would always enhance the difficulties in his mind. Thus, he would often pick the safest possible way forward in the end.

As a result, he was still nothing but a poor craftsman, while his friend — who had arrived in the city on the same boat and with the same qualifications — was already an important figure in the city. Though of course, he had never felt much jealousy. Although Sami wasn't rich, he had always been content with this stable way to live his life.

Now however, things were different. Now, he was no longer just responsible for his own future. It was time to shed the timidity, and act like a man for once. Just as Sami was about to agree with Ulan's complaints, his wife spoke up first.

"We should never have bought the house," she said, and then after a short silence, she added: "Sorry."

Apparently, she had mistaken his long, introspective silence as blame. Of course, he couldn't let such a misunderstanding stand.

"What are you apologizing for? Without you, we wouldn't have anything," an anxious Sami argued, before he added: "I should be the one to apologize for being so useless."

After all, the only reason they had been able to get the loan for their house was because Ulan had made a small fortune while acting on stage. Back when they had bought their new home, they had thought that they would be able to easily repay the loan with her continued income. Now however, all their plans seemed to have been nothing but fanciful thinking.

"Well, now we are both equally useless," she said with a smile, which somehow felt a lot calmer than before. Her hand slowly slipped out of Sami's, and she stood up to walk to the edge of the room, towards the piled-up firewood.

"In the first place, you know our troubles are not limited to the house alone. What happens if our child is a genius?"

Again with that, Sami thought, while hiding his annoyance.

A while back, Saniya's first 'university' had opened, apparently. He didn't know much about it, but Ulan said it was an institution of learning, even more advanced than the local schools where the king had been personally teaching the next generation of Saniya's upper class. However, while the schools were free, entry to the university was supposedly quite expensive, at least for ordinary people like them.

Thus, after hearing about this new way to lose money, Ulan had only become more anxious, always in the belief that their child might end up smart enough to study at this university, yet his parents wouldn't have the money to support his ambitions. He wanted to sigh at his wife's fanciful optimism, but held back because of her condition.

Even so, it was true that they would need to spend coin on more than just the house in the future. Raising children wasn't cheap, and raising them well was even more expensive. Even if their child only became a craftsman like Sami, they would have to pay a small fortune to have a proper master take him in as an apprentice. If they had a daughter, they would have to provide a dowry for her marriage as well. Of course, all of that didn't yet include the money needed to feed another mouth, among other things.

As he mulled over their money problems, Sami watched Ulan lift up a loose floorboard behind the firewood, and take out an old leather bag, which jingled with every one of Ulan's steps. She came back towards the table and let the small bag down in front of Sami, yet her hand never let go of it.

"I left behind enough coin to feed myself and pay back the due debt for the next five moons. Apart from that, this is all we have," Ulan concluded in a solemn voice. Her words only served to make Sami more anxious.

"You know, maybe this was a bad idea-" he tried again, but this time, Ulan interrupted him.

"You can do it. I didn't marry a hesitant carpenter. I married a man who could do anything, who was always the smartest in the room, and always the most confident," she said in a solemn tone, as her eyes intently stared into his. "Do not bet our future on the vague hope that another chance will come. I might never earn another Silo in my life. We have to prepare for that."

"Just... you are the most popular actress in the city. You wouldn't lose your work so completely, would you?"

In fact, Ulan was more than just popular. Due to a coincidence, she was the favorite actress of some important people. That coincidence alone was the reason she had made so much money in the first place.

Over the past year, most theaters in the city had introduced plays about the miracle king and his heroic victory over the false priests, or his victory over his patricidal brothers, or his victory over the godless foreigners. Meanwhile, Ulan had become the leading actress in a play which focused on Queen Sumaci instead.

In the story, the queen heroically rescued the king from drowning to win his heart. After the premiere, a servant of Queen Sumaci herself had personally handed Ulan a precious bank note worth a hundred Sila, a fortune for normal people. Apparently, the queen had seen the play, and left her the money with the comment: 'Finally, someone is telling the truth for once'.

From that moment on, Ulan had regularly received special rewards from the queen's palace, as well as from other nobles who were eager to flatter the most powerful woman in Saniya.

Ever since she had settled down in Rapra Castle, Queen Sumaci had taken a particular interest in supporting the arts. In that time, Ulan had quickly become her favorite artist. The money from such favor had been enough for them to put up the coins for their house and get a good loan deal. Then, the pregnancy had happened, and Ulan had begun to panic.

No matter how hard Sami looked, he still couldn't see a trace of his wife's pregnancy anywhere on her body, even though the doctor had reassured them that she was two or three moons along. If she wore wider robes, she would be able to keep performing for a few moons more at the very least, and then she would need to take only a moderate break right before and after child birth.

After that, she would surely be able to return and once more win back the favor of Saniya's upper class with her unique temperament and outstanding voice, honed by the sophisticated crowds of Medala's capital. However, his insecure wife thought differently.

"You do not know the stage like I do," she said. "My pregnancy will be a break in my career. As soon as I leave, others will congregate onto my roles like vultures onto carrion. When I return, there will be no more place for me. As for the queen's favor? Such a high-born personage will quickly look for a new toy as soon as I have left her sight. By the time I return, she will surely have forgotten all about me. If we want to keep the house, if we want our child to succeed, we need a better, more secure path to make money. Preferably one which is not reliant on something as fragile as my pretty face. You always said that you hated your work at the manufactory, that you were underpaid and that you had bigger goals and bigger dreams. So make them come true, and take us with you. That's all you have to do."

As she spoke, Ulan walked around the table, knelt down next to Sami's seat to put their faces on the same level, and touched her forehead against his.

"I will," Sami finally said, in a solemn voice which reflected his renewed resolve. "Don't worry. Soon, your husband will become the greatest merchant in the Verduic Sea."

All of a sudden, all his previous concerns and fears were washed away as if they had never existed. Now, he was determined to fulfill his dreams, and become a great man worthy of his great wife. Whether or not she would be able return to her acting career didn't matter any more. He would finally be a man who matched the greatest star in Saniya, and make sure she had the soundest sleep of anyone in the city.

With his resolve restored, Sami picked the bag of money off the table, and Ulan finally let go. There was no need to count the coins and bank notes inside again. He knew exactly how much it was. After all, they had already counted it endlessly over the past few days.

With his free hand, Sami downed the cup of cheap non-tea and stood up, ready to bet everything on their future. Just in time, a man's voice called from the outside.

"Hey! Sami! We gotta get going!"

In response, Sami turned towards the door, eager to set off. In contrast, Ulan's response to the voice was surprisingly cold, considering her previous enthusiasm.

"I only hoped your partner would be more reliable," she commented. "I could not imagine what good that man would do you in an emergency."

"Don't worry, the navy has made the trade routes very safe these days," Sami reassured her. "And I will handle the negotiations with the clients. As for emergencies? Chanca might be a fool, but he will never abandon his friends in a crisis. He is far more reliable than he looks."

Sami's money-making scheme was to become a merchant. Of course, becoming a little trader with an ox cart wouldn't be enough to make the kind of money he thought his family deserved. Thus, he had to get his hands on his own ship.

Luckily, Sami's old friend Chanca had recently mentioned that he wanted to buy one as well, and had even offered Sami to contribute with his own funds. At the time, the offer had felt like celestial guidance, and even the careful craftsman had only hesitated for a moment before he had agreed.

Of course, he had later talked the plan through in detail, with Chanca as well as with Ulan. While she had agreed at first, always willing to support his ambitions, she still seemed hesitant now that push came to shove.

"The Verduic Sea is still a region of war after all," she finally said, and took his hand again. "I worry for you."

Again, Sami had to act confident as he squeezed Ulan's hand.

"We will be fine," he insisted. "That war is happening mostly on the distant islands. Along the main trade routes, almost all the battleships fly the king's flag. And even if we were to meet some of those verduic pirates by chance, they still ride those old rowing boats. They will be easy to scare away, since they don't even have cannons, unlike us. You know who my friend is."

"A braggard and a womanizer." Ulan sneered, her face now mean in a way she couldn't even replicate on stage. At least now, she no longer looked as frail as she had earlier.

"Yes, but you also know who his father-in-law is," Sami joked. Finally, Ulan had nothing more to say, so Sami let go of her hand, tightened his fingers around the bag, and put on his coat again, even though it was still wet from his trip home.

"Please don't worry," he said again, now with a determination he no longer had to force. "I will succeed, and make us happy, all of us."

After his declaration, Sami left his new home, ready to work hard to make sure he would never lose it.

Chapter 487 - Sami Quits

8th year of Strife, late spring.

The air in the carpentry manufactory was incredibly stuffy all year round. However, that was especially true this time of year, when the air outside was still pleasant in comparison, but the sun was already heating up the inside of the workshop like an oven.

Even so, Sami ignored the sweat running down his brow and greedily took in the smells of sawdust and glue which deeply permeated the entire building. In the distance, he could see the many workers of the manufactory diligently fulfilling their duties on dozens of workbenches, while several foremen made their rounds to check that no one was slacking off or delivering subpar work. With all the hammering, sawing and turning, it was near impossible to hear one's own thoughts in the middle of the room. Even here, in an isolated office on the edge of the building, the noise still droned in his ears, yet Sami didn't mind. Everything, from the smells, to the sights, to the sound, he was enjoying all of it. For him, it was routine, his routine. As a man who had always valued security over risk, the familiar was always something he cherished. Soon, he was sure, he would miss these familiar sensations greatly. After all, they would soon be nothing but a distant memory.

"Please, Sami, could you reconsider?" a voice came from behind him.

Torn away from his early nostalgia, Sami turned around, to face the small office of the manufactory's chief overseer. He had never really liked this closed-off part of the building, with the large windows so the overseer could always keep an eye on the workers, to see if they were working at maximum efficiency, and to punish them if they weren't. Although he hated the way the workers in this place were treated, he never had had any problem with the man who inhabited this office most days.

As far as tyrannical bosses were concerned, Cado was as good as they got. Although the gruff old man with the gray temples and the permanent scowl on his face looked mean, he was always open to a talk, and always tried to protect his workers.

Thus, when he saw Cado push the paper he had received from Sami back across his desk, the young carpenter remained polite, even though he had long made up his mind.

"I am sorry, boss. Please accept my resignation," Sami insisted as he shook his head. While he had great respect for his boss, he didn't have a choice in the matter. He had to leave this place today, to forge a new path.

"But..." Cado began, before the tension left his body and he sighed. "I will not lie to you, young man. Too much work has been piling up on my desk. These days, we have received more and more requests from the northern kingdoms as well. Seems like the southern styles have been spreading well, and most of the requests are special, custom-made pieces with hidden compartments. Please, can you do me a favor and stay for just another month? Without our best foreman, how will we ever complete all these complicated orders on time?"

Of course, Sami understood Cado's position. He just wanted to do what was best for the manufactory, like he was paid to do. And in doing so, he could protect 'his people' from punishment by their tyrannical masters. However, that kind of attitude only served to annoy Sami.

"If you can't finish them all, then don't take them all," the carpenter said. "The workshop is making enough coin as is."

For a while, Cado stared at the standing Sami with a weary face from behind his desk, before he sighed again.

"You know that is not an option, not with master around," he finally said.

"Yes, which is why I am leaving," Sami shot back immediately.

"Just because of that?" Cado's frown deepened even further. "I know master Sawo is a bit eccentric-"

"A greedy bastard, you mean?" Sami corrected.

"-but he rarely comes here anyways, and Master Tawo is much better," Cado completed his argument. Although he wouldn't change his mind, at least in that regard, Sami had to agree with his boss. If nothing else, their Master Tawo seemed to understand the workers more, and was more willing to at least treat them like people every once in a while. Even so, a tiny show of understanding wouldn't be enough to change Sami's mind.

"Doesn't matter who among the brothers is better," he said, and stared through the window again, out onto the workshop. "In the end, they're both just exploiting us, me and everyone else out there."

After all, Tawo was still their master. No matter how nice he acted, it wouldn't change Sami's living situation, or his working conditions.

"That is too harsh," Cado said. "Master Tawo especially praised you the last time he came here for a visit, and acknowledged all your hard work, did he not?"

"He only came because we made record profits," Sami shot back immediately.

He wasn't so easily fooled. After all, he knew exactly how that meeting had happened. Tawo had heard about the profits and appeared, then asked Cado about their best worker to praise him as an example to the others. The praise had little to do with Tawo's recognition, and everything with Cado's. So rather than feel gratitude, the casual 'reward' for his hard work only served to upset him more.

"And what did I get from those profits, other than a pat on the shoulder?" Sami thus asked. "No matter how good I am at what I do, no matter how hard I work, I never benefit from it at all. Because all the benefits have to go to those greedy brothers and their private army of thugs."

"Kullu isn't too bad..." Cado argued, he averted his eyes as he spoke. His mention of the thug's name also proved that he knew exactly who Sami was talking about.

"Then you've didn't see him beat up our workers yesterday, did you?" Sami asked with a sneer on his face. Of course, he could have picked almost any day. The thugs spent most days harassing the workers for one reason or another. That was their job after all. According to rumors, the thugs around Kullu were former bandits, who had been hired to keep Sawo and Tawo's workers obedient. With their tyrannical nature, they had done a good job so far.

"No, I saw, of course. But they were stealing the master's property! Of course they would get punished!" Cado shot back.

Somehow, the scowl on his face got worse. Maybe he didn't like being accused of overlooking the crimes of the thugs against the workers. Though obviously, his justification was terrible.

"They were taking scrap wood home with them. It would have been burned in the yard anyways," Sami pointed out, deathly calm in his anger.

Because they were running a carpentry business, they produced literal tons of wood waste every day. Thus, in order to reduce the risk of fires which would burn down their masters' precious building, they burned all the remaining scrap every evening. Even though technically, the workers had taken something that wasn't theirs, it was barely a crime at all, certainly not one deserving of such a vicious act of cruelty.

Finally, Cado's stubborn scowl broke under Sami's critical gaze. The old man sighed as he leaned back in his chair, all tension drained from his body.

"I don't want to argue," he said. "Just tell me what I can do to make you stay. Do you want more money?"

As always, Cado was trying his best to keep this dysfunctional manufactory running, always eager to mediate between his demanding masters and his poor, helpless workers. However, Sami no longer had any interest in such things.

Once again, he looked out of the expensive window, a privilege of the rich that the workers outside could only dream of. Yet this time, he didn't look at the workers outside at all. He looked farther instead, at a wider world beyond these walls.

"You know, I recently made the acquaintance of some guys from the manufactory next door," he finally said, seemingly out of context.

"Those Veteran Arms bastards? You know they're the enemy!" the gruff Cado shouted out of reflex, something which made Sami smile. Indeed, ever since the Veteran Arms Company had built their manufactory next door, the two groups had fought each other constantly.

Apparently, there was some previous beef between the master of that place and their very own Sawo. Something about stolen property, entrapment, and the like. The story always changed to make Sawo look better, and most of it was probably a lie anyways, so Sami didn't care about the details. What he did know, however, was that as a result of the feud, his master Sawo did everything he could to make the lives of their neighbors impossible.

By the time the Veteran Arms Company had bought the empty lot next door, Sawo had already begun his counterattack. Since their TaSa group was also involved in the construction business, he had called together his fellow construction bosses in the city, and showered them with benefits, to make sure that the newcomers wouldn't find any expert architects to build them their new manufactory.

Since large buildings in Saniya had to adhere to strict standards for their construction to prevent sudden collapses and large fires, they wouldn't have been able to start their business without the help of an expert. Yet somehow, they found an unknown figure from the east — a man named Chalco — who ended up building their manufactory for them. By now, Chalco's work was recognized, and he was even competing with Sawo's people for business in the construction field, which only served to enrage Sami's boss further.

Since then, the conflict between the two sides had continued through large and small incidents. This private grudge between the masters of the big manufactories had since trickled down to the workers, who would stay out of each other's way, unless they were eager for a brawl. However, Sami had never been one to follow the lead of others, and saw no personal reason to hate their neighbors just because his impossibly rich master had lost some coin.

"I don't care if they're the enemy," he thus said, and once again turned towards Cado. "Do you know that an ordinary, unskilled laborer in that place makes more Sila in a month than I do? And they don't get beat up by the boss' thugs for no good reason."

In response to Sami's very reasonable explanation, Cado's scowl only got worse.

"Is that what this is about? Did one of those suspicious cooperatives promise you more money? Is that why you're leaving?" the old man speculated, unreasonably. Of course, his snap reaction had no basis in reality. The old supervisor was pushed to desperation by his overly demanding masters, so Sami wouldn't hold the outburst against him.

"You know that's not true," he just pointed out with a sneer which wasn't directed at anyone in the room. "Our dear Master Sawo made very certain we would never turn into his competition."

Back when he had signed on for this TaSa furniture manufactory, his contract had contained all kinds of one-sided, exploitative clauses. Among them was a guarantee that he would not work in carpentry after he left his work with the manufactory for any reason.

Back then, Sami hadn't cared too much. He wasn't married to the carpentry work in the first place. Instead, he had only looking for a stable job while he got settled in this new city, and the pay in this place had been good.

However, with all the money his bosses randomly subtracted for all kinds of nonsense reasons, his wages ended up not half as good as he had thought before. Worse, Saniya's economy had grown rapidly over the last few years. Apart from a few months after the war, when there had been too many refugees and the price of labor had gone down, wages had continually risen ever since his first employment.

By now, he was woefully underpaid if he considered his qualifications, as well as his contributions to the workshop. The only reasons he hadn't left earlier were because he had never come across a better, readily available job opportunity, and because he had never had a pressing reason to look further. Now, he had both.

While Sami was busy with his own thoughts, Cado continued to stare at him with a frown, no doubt silently probing for ways to win back his disgruntled craftsman's dedication. However, Sami would no longer turn back. He had to take this step, even if it was risky, for his family.

"You were a good boss, Cado," he began, calling the boss by his name for the first time. "You always fought for us, and tried to make things better for us when no one was looking. I know about that. But you're just the overseer of this place, only a hired hand. Against the greed of our masters, you can only do so much. And I have to think about my family. I can't stay here any longer. My wife is pregnant, you know?"

Finally, his words showed an effect. For a second, there was s till a struggle on Cado's face, before he sank back in his seat again. Silently, Sami pushed his resignation across the table for the second time, the rough paper scratching against the smooth table. This time, Cado no longer pushed it away.

"Since you are doing it for your family, I will not stop you any longer. Still, you should know that it is not so easy to find good work in this city any more. Not since everything has been changing so fast these days," Cado began to complain, before he reigned himself in and continued. "Do you already know where you want to go next? If you have something in mind, I will write you a commendation to help you along."

As always, Cado thought about the well-being of his workers first, even if they didn't do as he said. The offer made Sami smile, even though he had to shake his head in response.

"Thank you, boss," the ex-carpenter said, "but that won't be necessary. I already have my new work lined up, and this time, I will be my own boss."

Soon after, Sami stepped out of the office in confident strides, towards his future. When he opened the door to the outside and left what had been his workplace for the past two years, a gust of cool air hit his face and washed away the heat and stink from the workshop. It smelled like the sea, and like freedom. For the moment, it felt unfamiliar. Sami wasn't sure he liked it.

Hermit's Notes: Do people even still remember Sami? It's been a while, I think. Anyways, this chapter starts a new mini-arc in this book, one of the last. I promise it's going to be shorter than the last few. It's also the one I had to rewrite multiple times cause I didn't like it, so I really hope you'll like it.

Chapter 486 - Questioning People

In the king's office, time stood still. While Fadelio was waiting for an answer, Corco could only sit there, numb to his core. What was this nonsense story his friend had just told him? Courting her? Winning her over? This guy was clearly trying to piss her off.

"Master?" Fadelio tried again. "Could you tell me how long until the maid will come back, ready for our engagement?"

Finally, the prime minister's repeated calls woke Corco up from his shock.

"I never taught you to start negging her!" he shouted, as angry as he was confused. He was ready to launch into a full-force tirade, before he saw Fadelio's confused face and sat back down with a "sorry".

Fadelio of all people really wasn't a malicious person. Most likely, he had just catastrophically misunderstood everything, and come to terrible conclusions as a result. Maybe he had really insulted Llamka willingly, but he probably thought it was for some greater good, and was probably also ready to make it up to her later.

Still, it was also hard to believe that the guy who was always so good at everything was this atrocious when it came to women. In the end, Corco could only assume the best intentions from his friend, and patiently explain the misunderstanding.

"I mean, I didn't tell you to do any of that, nor did I mean to," he said, while adding another sigh. "When I said 'sincerity', I didn't mean you should try to bribe her like a hooker. How did you ever think that was gonna end well?"

Somehow, Corco almost ended up grinning through his frown. If it hadn't been so tragic, surely, this situation would have been funny.

"But you said-"

"I just said 'sincerity'," Corco interrupted before his friend could say anything stupid again. "I thought something along the lines of 'being honest about your feelings and open about your relationship goals' or something like that. That way, if you're honest from the start, your relationship starts on the right foot. But if you're incompatible, then you were doomed to fail anyways, in which case it's better if your relationship won't start at all. And by 'patience', I just meant that you shouldn't seem desperate while chasing the girl, that's pretty basic. Also, even if you can't win her over, you should just move on, since there are still plenty of girls to meet in the future, so you'll surely find someone suitable so long as you stay patient."

As he talked, the king walked up and down the room, too animated and annoyed to sit still. Finally, once his explanation was done, he turned back to Fadelio, only to realize that the idiot sat in his seat with his head down, deeply focused on his notes and with a coal pen in his hand. He wasn't really writing down this rant, was he?

For a few seconds, the baffled Corco just silently stared at his attendant again, until Fadelio realized that the lesson had stopped. Now out of material, the kingdom's prime minister interrupted his writing and glanced up at his master.

"Okay, I got all of that. Continue," he said without shame. "What did you mean by 'confidence'?"

"Please put down your notebook before my head explodes." Corco rubbed his temples, in an effort to stave off an oncoming headache. His friend had always been such low-maintenance. How could he be this incompetent in this regard? Tired of this farce, he fell back into his seat.

"Sorry," Fadelio said yet again, finally able to read the room. Though even after he had put away the blasted notebook, he hesitated for just a second before he asked again. "So what should I-"

"Just forget about Llamka," an annoyed Corco interrupted, just barely suppressing a shout. "No matter how gracious she is, or how suitable a husband you may or may not be, she'd never be fine with being insulted like that. She's a warrior too, you know. She has her own pride. Just stop bothering her for now."

"Yeah, sorry. I will." Again, Fadelio offered an apology, and again, another moment of hesitation. "But then how would I-"

"There are a million ways to apologize to Maci, and at least a thousand which would not damage your reputation. Just pick any one of those," the merciless king interrupted again. At this point, he almost suspected that Fadelio was doing this on purpose just to annoy him. "For example, you could finally confirm Maci's annuity before she has to borrow private money from me just to pay the castle's servants. That would be a good start."

"Of course, I'll do that right away." Fadelio stood up, before he hesitated again and added: "I just don't quite understand what exactly I did wrong. I just don't get women."

How can you still not understand the problem here?

Although Corco complained in his head, he thought back to his own talk with Tama earlier in the day before the words could reach his lips. Rather than waste any more time with Fadelio's ineptitude, maybe this was a good chance to probe him about his sister's changes. He had already figured out why the brother had been so weird before. Maybe this would allow him to solve another personal problem within his court while he was on a roll.

"Tell me about it," he thus said, in an acted show of sympathy. "You know, I talked with Tama earlier, and she advised me to sacrifice countless of my people, just for a little gain in strength. I never knew that girl was so ruthless. Do you have any idea if anything happened to her that let her change this much?"

Unlike before, when he just wouldn't shut up, Fadelio stayed eerily quiet this time. All he did was look at Corco while he was fidgeting about, clearly thinking about something, but unwilling to say it.

"What is it?" Corco asked after a prolonged silence. "If you have anything to say, just say it."

"I'm just not sure I should be saying this at all..." Again, Fadelio hesitated, like a schoolboy who was unsure if he should confess to a prank. Somehow, the funny sight took away all of Corco's earlier tension.

"Out with it, what's the problem?" he asked with a crooked grin. "It's not like this would be the first time you've said something I don't like, right?"

Usually, it was Fadelio who criticized the king whenever he went too far or did something wrong. Not once had he been punished for a reasonable concern about Corco's plans. All the stranger was his current hesitation. Soon however, the king understood why his friend had been so hesitant.

"Well... that's how Tama has always been, you know?" Fadelio finally said.

"What do you mean?" a confused Corco asked back.

"Tama has always been ruthless, her mood has always been changeable and hard to read. That is who she is. Maybe you don't know, because in front of you, she always tried to act like a cute, innocent girl... You know, because..."

"She had a thing for me," Corco finally completed the sentence.

Although he knew that Tama was sometimes a bit flighty, and she had previously handled some criminals in the kingdom very harshly, those had only been criminals, and only in the early days of the kingdom, when this harsh treatment had helped them stabilize their rule. Only now did he realize that the girl had always held back in his presence. Considering just how vicious she already could be while he was around, it was a scary thought.

"No wonder you didn't want to say it," Corco concluded. "You weren't afraid of me, you were afraid of Tama."

"Please don't tell her," Fadelio whined, much to the king's amusement. For a second, he let his friend stew in his panic, before he finally relieved his anguish.

"I get it," he promised, while suppressing a laugh. "Well, it's good that there's nothing wrong with her. Still, I guess I need to look for a different foreign minister now."

Although he had solved the mystery of Tama's mood change, he still hadn't solved the fundamental problem from before. As she was, he felt she was ill-suited for a ministerial position. If nothing else, Corco didn't want anyone so cold-hearted in a position of great power. However, Fadelio looked confused in response to the king's very reasonable conclusion.

"Why?" the prime minister asked. "Maybe I am the wrong man to say so, seeing as I am her brother, but I believe Tama is perfectly suitable for the role of foreign minister."

"Is that what you think?" a suspicious Corco asked. However, based on his attendant's character, he had no reason to doubt Fadelio, so he patiently waited for an explanation.

"Of course. In international diplomacy, a cold and unpredictable personality is of great value. It makes the diplomat harder to read, and it's easier to get concessions out of the concerned negotiators on the other side if they are afraid of extreme consequences if they make their opponent unhappy. That's something you yourself taught us. Apart from that, my sister also fulfills all other necessary requirements for the role, like education and status. She is well-versed in etiquette and speaks four languages. Her close relation to the ghosts would also help her easily get her hands on important information in foreign countries, which would only serve to make her job easier."

The longer Fadelio spoke, the deeper Corco sank into his seat. In the end, he subconsciously tapped his lip, as he fell into equally deep thought.

Maybe his own ideals had once again created a problem where none had existed before. As he considered all of Fadelio's arguments, he ultimately couldn't help but agree with his assessment. In the end, the international arena was an anarchic system, which needed a sufficiently clever and ruthless actor to exploit it to the fullest. Wouldn't someone like Tama be perfect in that case?

"Maybe you're right," he finally admitted, though he still wasn't quite willing to agree.

"If you're still unsure, I'd advise you to test her first," Fadelio suggested, now with a smile on his face. "Don't make her minister right away. Instead, give her a job somewhere as a diplomatic envoy to evaluate her abilities. Maybe send her to the Arcavians in the orient, and see how she handles it. We need to establish closer contact with them anyways, and need a diplomat of sufficient weight and ability to talk to them. If she does her job there well, then you can safely make her minister after a few years."

"Wait, I get it now!" Corco shouted in response to the lengthy speech, ignoring his prime minister's words completely.

All this time, he had been confused. Never before had Fadelio fought so hard for the benefits of one of his sisters. Instead, he had always tried his hardest to appear impartial, to avoid any calls of nepotism. This unusual behavior was why Corco had been reluctant to agree before. However, after his friend's last sentence, the king finally figured out Fadelio's real goal here.

"You're just trying to get your sister out of the country before she can marry Atau," he concluded with a grin.

"I don't know what you mean, master." Fadelio coughed awkwardly and looked to the side. "However, I believe this arrangement would be to everyone's benefit, my sister included."

"And Atau?" Corco prodded.

"He won't suffer an agonizing death after he hurts my sister." Fadelio replied with a grim laugh, as if Atau having an affair behind Tama's back was guaranteed. To be fair, Corco was inclined to agree with that assessment as well.

__________________________

By the time their discussion ended, the sun had already gone down. Finally, Corco and Fadelio left the king's study, ready to return to their private quarters. However, just when Corco wanted to say goodbye to his attendant, a hurried Ichtaka rushed towards them.

The king just wanted to ask his Minister of Health what he was doing back here so shortly after their year-end meeting. Yet before he could, the breathless doctor had already called out towards him.

"King Corcopaca, the examination of Queen Sumaci has been concluded," he said, and stopped a few steps away from the king to catch his breath, his hands on his hips as he heaved in the air.

In response, Corco's heart almost stopped. What could possibly have happened to Maci that the doctor was in such a hurry? Wasn't she just a bit ill after their travels during winter? She was more of a summer person after all, so a bit of discomfort was to be expected, but that was all it was, surely. How could she have caught a major illness? Pneumonia, maybe?

"And? It's nothing serious, right?" the anxious king asked. "Speak, dammit!"

However, the doctor's bright eyes and excited voice soon took away all of Corco's worst concerns.

"No, rather, it is joyous news," Ichtaka finally forced out in between gasps. "Queen Sumaci is pregnant."

After, the doctor continued to talk, and Fadelio also added something, but Corco couldn't hear a word they were saying. His anxiety over his wife's illness disappeared only for a second, before it was immediately replaced by that of a different kind.

At first, he had only felt an unprecedented happiness. After all, they had eagerly tried for children for a while now, without success. By all rights, he should have been over the moon at the news. Yet Corco's meticulous and meddlesome mind just wouldn't let him be happy. When he thought about their still primitive medical technology, and about their shockingly high mortality rate of mothers during childbirth, he couldn't help but feel panicked for his wife and their unborn heir.

Yet as always when he faced a crisis, the miracle king soon made a plan in his head, and regained his usual confidence. Childbirth was just another enemy to overcome, and he still had almost nine months left to prepare for the final confrontation.

"Looks like we'll need to add a health reform on top of the other things we decided today," the king finally determined. First of course, he would have to go find Maci, to celebrate, and check on her. After that, there was much work ahead of him. He would make sure his family was safe, no matter what.

Hermit's Notes: Couldn't post yesterday, so there will be two chapters today.

Chapter 485 - Miscommunication

For the rest of the Year-End Meeting, nothing outrageous happened. Some good numbers were presented, some old laws were tweaked, but by and large, last year's determined direction for the kingdom's development over the next five years was only reaffirmed.

After the last war, they had temporarily removed most internal disruptions and external threats to the kingdom's stability. This year had been no more than a cleanup of the mess the rebels had made. Thus, their progress had been quite steady and smooth. Not only that, the many small advantages Corco had introduced years ago — like the standardized industrial system and compulsory education — were now starting to show their effects after years of slow improvement.

As a result, Corco didn't have to worry too much about his kingdom for now. Even if he didn't actively intervene anymore, their advantage in various fields would still be enough to maintain stable growth for years to come, and thus to maintain an advantage over their enemies.

As a result, instead of worrying about his kingdom all the time, he had the leisure to worry about his people for once. Ever since his return, he had noticed more and more problems which had developed among his high-ranking officials. He wouldn't let internal conflicts, prejudices, or private grudges derail their country's development, not when they had only just started to get going. Thus, he felt like he would have to play therapist for a while, starting with the most important figure, and the one closest at hand.

After the end of the meeting, Corco intended to retain Fadelio for a private one-on-one talk, to figure out just why he had been so irritable today. However, he didn't have to say anything in the first place. As all the other officials filed out of the king's office, the prime minister alone patiently stayed behind. Usually, this wasn't the case. At the very least, he would lead the guests outside, out of politeness alone. Clearly, his friend had something on his mind as well.

Once everyone had left, and before Corco could say anything, Fadelio spoke up by himself.

"Master, I need to ask for advice again," he said, much to the king's delight.

"Sure, whatever you need." Corco showed a magnanimous smile and motioned towards one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, sit down."

"Master, I don't want to be rude, but... your last guidance really didn't work at all," a hesitant Fadelio said as he took a seat.

"What guidance? Why can't I remember?" Corco's memory was excellent, so why didn't any of this make sense to him? The more he thought, the more confused he got.

"The courtship advice," Fadelio tried to help out.

"Oh, the dating tips!" Corco finally remembered. No wonder he couldn't think of it. Why would Fadelio call his casual advice 'guidance'? Though of course, the king wouldn't investigate that deeply. His friend had always been stiff with his words. Instead of worrying about the wording, he was more interested in starting his therapy session.

"Is that why you've been so irritable today?" he asked instead, an important question he needed answered anyways.

"I have to apologize once more." Rather than explain himself, Fadelio once again reverted back to his instincts and bowed his head to his master, much to the master's annoyance.

"Don't apologize," Corco said. "Just tell me what's going on, and then we can fix the problem together."

They were still friends after all, even if Fadelio always liked to overemphasize their difference in status. Though for once, the lower-status of the friends dropped the facade.

"It's just so frustrating, you know?" he said, as he aggressively scratched his head, a rude gesture in stark contrast to his previous servility. "I've always been good at things. How can I fail at something so simple?"

"I take it that 'courtship' of yours didn't go so well?" Corco said, while suppressing a grin. He wouldn't make fun of his friend, at least not until he had collected enough ammunition first.

"No, I have been roundly rejected," Fadelio replied as his frown deepened. "Even though I did exactly as you said."

"I didn't really say much though. I just gave you three words."

Confidence, sincerity, and patience, that's what I said, Corco dimly remembered. Back then, he just thought it would be a neat-sounding way to quickly end an uncomfortable conversation. However, apparently, his casual words had seemed like wisdom from the heavens for his friend.

"No," Fadelio insisted. "I understood you perfectly, and completely followed the instructions. First I showed the girl my confidence."

__________________________

Despite his rapidly beating heart — forced into action through nervousness and embarrassment — Fadelio stood in the queen's palace, in front of Llamka, Sumaci's personal maid. Although his posture was a bit embarrassing, he was determined to follow his master's advice. Corco's words had never before led him astray after all.

Thus, he had taken off his upper wear, and was now flexing his muscles to show off his greatest confidence. However, despite showing himself from his best side in front of his target for courtship, the maid only returned a cold stare.

The longer this lasted, the more embarrassed he became. Still, he couldn't show weakness here, even with the strong deterrence of the woman's glare. If he gave up halfway through, all of his master's good advice would be wasted, and his courtship would fail.

"Not to worry," he thus said to Llamka while suppressing a nervous jitter in his voice. He even forced a wink in an acted show of confidence. "No matter what you do, you'll be mine anyways."

For a second, the maid's eyes grew larger in response to the confident words. Fadelio was already convinced that his self-assured manner had touched her heart. However, in the end, she just clenched her teeth and stared for a few seconds longer, before she left the room without a word.

__________________________

"When that didn't work, I showed her my sincerity."

__________________________

"So now, you should understand why our marriage is mutually beneficial," Fadelio concluded his speech.

He had previously explained his aims for the marriage with Sumaci's maid already, and he had also laid out the benefits he would bring into the arrangement as well. This time however, he had taken the effort to really go into all the details, to show how sincere his efforts were to make amends with the queen's palace. Yet despite his great sincerity, the maid once again just sat there, as if she hadn't heard a word.

"Is that the reason you called this maid for a private meeting all the way out here, Prime Minister?" she finally asked. "I believed this was official business, which is the only reason I accepted the invitation."

As she spoke, the maid looked around the private room in the expensive restaurant Fadelio had reserved specifically for today. Despite his best efforts, she looked largely unimpressed.

"it is official business," he insisted, against the growing feeling that his show of sincerity also wasn't working. "As our union is important for the prime minister's reconciliation with the queen, which in itself is important for the stability of the kingdom, this business is as important as it gets."

Again, the maid just stared at him with that vicious glare of hers. She hadn't even looked at the food in front of her so far. Every time she showed that steely gaze, it only made Fadelio more nervous.

Confidence, confidence, he chanted in his head, as he did his best to suppress his shaking hands. In the meantime, the maid had stared enough. Finally, she deigned herself to explain her inexplicable rejection.

"Prime Minister Fadelio," she said in a voice a few notes lower and a few degrees colder than usual, "this maid has no interest in this kind of marriage. Queen Sumaci as well would not be happy to see her servants sacrifice their happiness in a diplomatic game. Thus, your attempts at reconciliation were doomed from the start. In addition, Prime Minister, I fail to see how I could ever benefit from such a cold, loveless arrangement."

For a second, Fadelio frowned as he stared at the girl. He had offered her so much, a position as the wife of the kingdom's prime minister, no more hard work as a made, and a powerful warrior husband who would grant her strong and healthy children. What else was she dissatisfied with? 'Cold and loveless'? Those words meant nothing. Surely, they would be able to come to a comfortable living arrangement with each other after some time, simply by communicating properly.

Although he realized the maid wasn't happy with his plans, he couldn't just give up like this. The kingdom's future could be on the line if he couldn't reconcile with Queen Sumaci. Even though it was embarrassing, and even though he felt bad for treating the maid poorly, his goals here were bigger than either of them. Thus, he soldiered on, against his better judgment. After all, Corco's advice had never steered him wrong before. Not to mention, he still had one final move left to play.

"Fine," he admitted, and took out his trump card. "As a show of my sincerity, I'm willing to reimburse you for your efforts."

As Fadelio held out the large bundle of bank notes, his shattered confidence from before finally returned. With such sincerity, surely the maid would accept that this was the best arrangement for the both of them and — more importantly — the kingdom.

Yet just when he thought Llamka was about to pick up her dowry, she rudely slapped the notes out of his hand. The valuable currency — all of Fadelio's savings over the years — went flying all throughout the private room. While a distressed and confused Fadelio still tried to recollect them, he only heard a huffed "unbelievable" from Llamka, before she stormed away.

__________________________

"And finally, I showed patience and great restraint."

__________________________

Inside Rapra Castle, a portion of the complex had been cordoned off as the Queen's Palace. At this moment, the maids Llamka and Puklla were coming up to one of the queen's personal servants, the one usually responsible for receiving surprise guests and messengers from the outside.

"How is it? Has the king's office finally replied?" an impatient Llamka asked. However, much to her dismay, the servant shook her head.

"Nothing so far, Lady Llamka," she said with a distressed look. "There have been no messages all day."

"Then what are the people of the King's Office doing?" she asked, while suppressing the desire to curse them for their incompetence. "We have asked for the yearly annuity of the Queen's Palace to be confirmed ten days ago. What will we do if we do not receive any reply at all? How will we plan next year's budget like this?"

"Maybe they are busy," the always careless Puklla suggested, to no one's help at all. Sometimes, Llamka really wanted to despair after she had been cursed with such a incompetent colleague. On most days, she would have harshly reprimanded her for her attitude. This time however, there was a more obvious target for her anger.

"It only takes a single stamp from that perverted prime minister to confirm our request," she finally explained through gritted teeth, while suppressing the growing fire in her stomach. "The requested figures are very reasonable, unchanged from last year. Rather than assume a mistake, I would guess that the pervert is angry because I will not be his private courtesan."

The confirmation of their yearly annuity was a standard procedure, but since the matter involved the kingdom's treasury, it still needed the official stamp from the king or the prime minister. This year however, the confirmation just wouldn't come. Clearly, this was blackmail from the man who would do anything to force her into an unhappy marriage.

"Don't worry too much, Llamka," Puklla said while patting her shoulder. "Even if you failed to win Prime Minister Fadelio's heart, the sun will still rise tomorrow. And even if he is angry with you, that too will pass. One day, you will also find a man who wants you."

As usual, Llamka just stared at her rude colleague, before she decided that the scolding wouldn't be worth the effort and just stormed off.

__________________________

"You see, I've done everything you said," Fadelio concluded his explanation. "After attempts to impress her with my confidence failed, I first tried to show her my sincerity by presenting her with an enormous dowry. Finally, when even that showed no results, I ignored her to regain her attention and show her that she cannot take my devotion for granted. I understand that this was how it was meant to work, and that I should be on the path towards success... It's just been so frustrating, you know? After all that time, the maid still hasn't given me a positive reply. So, master, my question is: How much longer should I wait until I can expect a response?"

Faced with his friend's troubled look, a baffled Corco could really only return a wide-eyed stare. Of course, he had never given any advice like that. Rather, he was now seriously worried for Fadelio's mental health. Was his head alright?

Chapter 484 - Year-End Review (Part 3)

"You're saying it'll take decades?" Corco tried to confirm that he hadn't misheard Atau's assessment. However, in defiance of his king's hopes, the admiral just crossed his arms and shrugged at the absurd estimate.

"Mostly depends on how determined our enemies are," he explained in a dry voice, one which proved that he had thought about this before, and that his numbers hadn't come from nothing. "As I said, we cannot take down their leaders by just hunting them. They're too slippery. So, until their people lose morale, so long as those kings still have loyal servants, the war will continue. Still, every time we find them on an island, they lose a few men, and sometimes they have to sacrifice a ship or two to delay us. With enough time, we can grind them down eventually. But at the current pace, it'll be decades. Maybe after a few years, loyalties will wane, but I doubt it'll be any faster than that."

"What about assassinations?" Corco probed. Although it wasn't his usual style, right now he was desperate for a quick solution. "You said they'll give up once their leader is gone, right?"

"I didn't. I just said we can't take them down in the first place," Atau calmly crushed his cousin's dreams. "Even if the assassination is a success, maybe they'll just decide on a new king and keep fighting. Though in the first place, assassinating someone who spends most of his time on a boat surrounded by his warriors sounds impossible. But that has nothing to do with me anyways. I just do my work. And I don't do assassinations."

"Then do you have any plans to speed up the progress of the war, as you have been tasked?" Fadelio asked this time, luckily with less vitriol than before.

"Of course I do." Atau made them hope, before he took it from them once more. "Not that any of them are useful. If we build some fortresses on every island we capture, and then station enough soldiers there, we can make sure the Colored Kings can't return there. Right now, any island we clear becomes a hiding place for them again as soon as we leave. But with permanent fortifications, they'll run out of room pretty eventually. But for that plan to work, we'd need enough men to hold their forces on every island in case they come back with full force. Otherwise, they'll just pick us off piece by piece."

"How many do you need?" Corco asked, ready to see his treasury bleed. Though in this case, he didn't mind spending a bit more in exchange for a swift conclusion to this war. However, Atau's answer only served to frustrate the king further.

"At least ten times the numbers we have right now."

"That is impossible. We could not find that many able-bodied men in all of Saniya," Scolo chimed in, before Corco could.

"That's why I said my plan isn't useful. There's too many islands anyways, so I don't think all that building will do us much good," Atau calmly replied in the face of the general's accusation, before he turned towards Corco again.

"Since the soldier plan isn't realistic, we could also close down their escape routes with a large enough fleet every time we reach a new island. That way, they can't escape, and we can wipe them out every time we find them." This time, Atau disparaged his own plan before Corco could get excited. "But for that, we'd need at least three times the number of ships we have right now. In the end, we just don't have enough men or materials to end the war."

Although thrice the number of ships was a lot, as Atau already commandeered almost their entire fleet, at least it seemed possible. In comparison, they wouldn't be able to afford sending ten times the soldiers on a long-term expedition. The cost of supplies alone would kill them. And just as Scolo had said, they didn't even have enough recruits for such numbers in the first place, not until they had fully integrated the new territories.

Even so, building all those ships would be quite a heavy investment as well. While Corco was still weighing the pros and cons of Atau's second plan, others had already made up their minds about it.

"Isn't this just an excuse for you to increase the navy's budget?" Fadelio argued immediately. However, this time, he hadn't interrupted his king, and he had brought forth a valid concern — and one which Corco shared as well, one he couldn't voice himself without insulting his admiral. Thus, he didn't interrupt his attendant for the moment.

"I'm just telling the truth. If I can't get more ships, I can't finish this war of yours as you wish," Atau shot back, in the same casual tone as before, as if he didn't care whether or not the Verduic War ever came to a conclusion.

"No matter whether they are necessary or not, the kingdom's finances simply cannot shoulder the construction of so many ships," another voice chimed in. This time, the objection had come from Brym's replacement, another of Corco's cousins.

Caecilia di Pluritac — Eclestius Caelestis Pluritac's daughter — had entered the Ministry of Finance right after the king's deal with his uncle back during their war with the central kingdom. That had been back when it had still been called the finance department and had been chronically understaffed. Through her own efforts over the years, she had worked her way up to Brym's trusted assistant, and now even represented the department at the year-end meeting in his absence. And in the true fashion of a proper accountant, she managed to ruin everyone's fun with a single sentence, in an effort to save costs even at the cost of the kingdom.

"Wasn't the kingdom making more money than ever before?" Atau argued back. "What about little Brym selling that worthless paper for mountains of silver up north? Some of that is surely good for a few extra galleons, right?"

"The kingdom faces many expensive projects over the following years. We cannot simply waste our efforts on a large-scale ship-building project. Worse, once the ships have been built, they will only be useful once, to end the war. Once the Verdant Isles have been pacified, The Kingdom of Medala will possess the largest naval presence in the Verduic Sea by a large margin, even with our current fleet. Any more will simply become surplus to requirements. In other words: A waste of coin."

True to her fierce personality, Caecilia didn't back down at all in the face of Atau's demands. Even more, Corco was inclined to agree with her: They were building too many ships already. After all, no nearby force even came close to their naval strength, at least not since the Arcavians left. Thus, any more ships would become expensive toys as soon as the war on the Verdant Isles ended.

Still, they couldn't just ignore Atau's suggestions because of increased cost. Otherwise, the war would never end. Yet since they couldn't just overspend on this project, he had to come up with an alternate solution, one which would end the war sooner, and would be both cheap and effective. Luckily, Corco had prepared one years ago already. Since he didn't want to build expensive ships for a single-use job himself, he just had to incite his people to do it for him.

"So what happened to our privateering efforts? Couldn't we temporarily enlist some of them for a modest sum? With those reinforcements, we could end the war immediately."

"What privateers?" a seemingly confused Atau asked, which served to confuse Corco in turn. How could his cousin spend all his time in the Verduic Sea, yet have no idea about the privateering licenses they had been handing out to induce state-sanctioned pirate activity in the western sea?

"The privateering project has been slow going so far," Fadelio explained towards Corco, instead of replying to Atau's questions. "Although we have made effort to promote the project among the population, and although many-"

"What privateers?" Atau repeated again, this time louder, and more annoyed.

With a sigh, Fadelio finally turned towards his eternal nemesis. An explanation was necessary after all, not only for Atau, but for most of the officials in the room.

"How could the admiral of the kingdom not remember such an important policy?" he taunted, and then quickly explained before Atau could start another fight. "Some years back, the kingdom decided to hand out privateering licenses for private individuals willing to operate in the Verduic Sea. They would be allowed to raid merchant ships and seaside towns freely, presuming they limit their actions only to forces which are not under southern Medala's protection. It was an effort to disrupt the trade from northern Medala to Chutwa, while also weakening the local enemy forces throughout the Verdant Isles."

"Oh right, the pirates you guys wanted to hire," Atau patted his head in acted shock, before he returned to his calm, cynical self. "Sounds like your stupid idea was a stupid idea, huh? Not that I'm really surprised. What civilian would willingly run into a war zone and get themselves killed?"

"No, there has been plenty of interest in privateering from the public." Fadelio smirked as he saw Atau's shocked face, before he proceeded to explain the surprising interest. "After all, there are plenty of families in Sachay who have made a living off the sea for generations. Quite a few of those are ambitious enough to risk a life at sea in exchange for riches. However, the problem for most prospective privateers has been the lack of financial means. In general, the people of Saniya simply don't have enough money to make major purchases like buying a ship and hiring a crew. Even the big merchants often need to take out a loan for big projects, for example when we auctioned off some of the government businesses earlier in the year, or when they build their own manufactories. Even if they have that kind of wealth, they won't use it to engage in a risky business like privateering, not when there are safer, and more profitable businesses available. Instead of those large factory owners, our offer mostly interests the desperate and reckless, or those down on their luck. But they don't have enough money to buy a ship, and no bank would grant them a loan for a daring adventure. The risk is too high."

"Like I said, it was a stupid idea," Atau succinctly summarized.

Indeed, Corco had to admit that they hadn't thought about it enough back then. While only richer people would be able to afford a ship large enough for piracy, only the poor would willingly become privateers. Their strategy had been mismatched from the start. Even so, Corco wasn't willing to give up on an idea which had been proven successful in the other world in his memory already.

"No, the idea itself is sound," he thus insisted, and turned towards Fadelio for help. "I mean, we did get at least some privateers, right?"

"Yes, at least some pirates from Saniya should be sailing around the area," Fadelio claimed, though Atau snorted in response, so the prime minister had to adjust his statement. "But there should not enough to make a difference, or our navy would have noticed a difference. Presumably, most of them won't be acting as pirates most of the time. From what we can gather, most privateering licenses are held by small-scale merchants who take the chance to plunder whenever they see a weak target on their route. The few, more active privateers we got are just smaller boats owned by overambitious fishing villages. Their results seem to have been mixed, and they mostly operate along the medalan coast, and not among the Verdant Isles."

"That right! There's your solution!"

Excited at the reminder, Corco jumped up and pointed at Fadelio. Once he remembered those fishing villages, all the pieces suddenly fell into place and he managed to puzzle together a solid strategy immediately. However, his admiral wasn't quite so quick to understand.

"Huh?" was all the prime minister had to contribute. As punishment, Corco decided to launch into another lengthy tirade to make himself clear.

"Don't you remember how those fishing villages got their ships in the first place?" he asked. "Back then, we wanted those villagers to fish using larger vessels. On the one hand, we wanted to improve the output in those villages and improve their wealth to increase food production and tax revenue. On the other hand, we wanted to get them used to the operation on larger ships, so they could join our navy as sailors later."

"That's right, a lot of those types have enlisted on my ships these days," Atau interjected.

"Back then, those fishermen didn't have the money to buy our large ships, of course, just like the privateers now. In response, we simply gave handed out ships on credit on a village-by-village basis. Every village got one ship, collectively owned, and most are currently paying off their loans from the government with all the extra money they are making from fishing. We could try something similar in this case, I think."

After Corco's explanation was done, Fadelio was once again the first to react, alarmed face and all.

"You want to hand those ships to pirates? Master-"

"Of course not. I'm not stupid," Corco interrupted before his attendant could say something unreasonable again. Fadelio was so rattled he had even forgotten to keep up the charade and started calling the 'privateers' pirates, like they deserved, so Corco would never let him say something impulsive in his state.

Of course, Corco would also never lease his ships out to some pirates. He wouldn't expect to ever get his money back. However, that didn't mean that the fishing village model was completely useless for their privateering plans.

"While I won't loan any of my ships to prospective privateers, we can still let them split the bill between each other, just how the villagers did it. Remember, those ships are owned by the village as a whole, not by one individual person, which means that every member of that village owns a share of that ship. All we have to do is popularize that method, so people will be able to buy fractions of a ship, and then guarantee the rights of those shareholders by law. This way, a group of poor people can just go buy a ship together, and then go privateering to make their luck. In fact, this method will even increase our number of potential investors, beyond those looking for luck. Even a wealthy merchant might be interested in buying shares, since it's a lot less risky. Instead of betting on a single ship's success, which might just sink during its first engagement, they can partially invest in ten, for a more guaranteed output. That way, they don't even have to travel with the ship themselves, so the wealthy Saniyans just have to sponsor some mercenary pirates to make money for them. In fact, we can apply the same idea to the manufactories as well, which will allow the people to spend more of their money at once at a lower risk, and will benefit our economy greatly in the long run."

"Fractional ownership? A system similar to the worker cooperatives?" Fadelio understood almost immediately.

Corco could only grin at the thought that, in his kingdom, people knew about worker cooperatives before they knew about shareholders. Still, he patiently explained the idea.

"Yeah, except the people owning the company together wouldn't be workers. They're investors. But to make sure that people feel safe to do these deals, and to guarantee that the wealthy won't manipulate the market by arranging shady deals in private, we'll have to establish some new rules, and a new institution."

"Another one?" Fadelio groaned, no doubt unhappy about the upcoming increase in expenses, as well as his increased workload upon the establishment of yet another office in Rapra Castle. However, Corco wouldn't be deterred by the whining. Once he came up with a new idea, nothing would stop the enthusiastic king.

"Remember, you wanted the privateering business to be successful as much as anyone here. This one's necessary for the privateers, I guarantee," he argued. "Not only that, it's even more necessary for the government to have full control of the process. If we leave it to the open market, sooner or later, private parties are gonna establish this institution themselves, and then we'll lose a lot of control over the local economy. It's hard to explain the exact mechanisms, but just trust me on this one. It will take a while for me to work out the details, but soon, Saniya will be introducing the world's first official stock exchange!"

"Sounds great! Any more details, or should we just guess what you mean again?" Atau asked, though Corco chose to ignore the sarcasm.

"For now? The latter," he said, while the cogs in his head whirred into motion. "Over the next few days, I'll have to work out those details first, so I can't tell you anything concrete yet. I assume the finance department will help me in that regard. I don't want to miss any obvious loopholes."

"Of course, King Corcopaca. The finance department is yours, like all the lands of Medala." Although Caecilia's chosen words were subservient, her voice carried a hidden blade inside, and her eyes were sharp as knives. Even giving birth hadn't taken away any of his cousin's fire. "On that note, I believe it would be best to first address the country's finances, as well as the results of Minister Brymstock's bond sale over the past year. Otherwise, we will continue to make plans without any measure for the available budget," she added in a harsh tone. Yet through all the aggression, she had swiftly established both her competence, as well as her belligerence, which had greatly streamlined the process of budgeting these days.

While Corco watched her list off the numbers with confidence and rebuke the financial wishes of the various ministers, the king just thought how lucky he was to have found such a treasure on his uncle's Lonely Island. After hearing about Brym's marriage plans, he had become quite worried that a single family group could amass all the power below the king. With Fadelio as prime minister and his sisters either in positions of power, or married to powerful men, it felt more and more like the king's power was about to be overshadowed.

Of course, he wouldn't do anything drastic to his friends, but his principled inaction only increased his worry. Now, a start to a solution was staring him right in his face. With the new school system to be installed across the kingdom, more solutions were sure to follow soon. At least he hoped that the issue would resolve itself on its own, before he would have to get involved. As he stared into an uncertain future, the king once again felt the heavy weight of his office.

__________________________

Year-End Summary

Name: Kingdom of South Medala

Year: 7th Strife

Population: 4.31m (+3.9%)

-----Royal Territory: 1.63m (including new possessions)

Verdant Isles (all controlled territories): ~7m

Green Island: 3.14m

Income: 104.9m Sila

-----Seignorage: 11.6m Sila

-----Grain and agriculture: 29.4m Sila

-----Direct trade from government businesses: 8.2m Sila

-----Tariffs: 6.8m Sila

-----Other: 48.9m Sila (mostly bond and manufactory sales)

Treasury: 38.23m Sila

Precious Metal Reserves: 63.2m Sila

Debt Ratio: ~70.5%

Standing Troops: 12k commoners

-----Reserves: 20k commoners, 16k warriors

Steel Production: 250 tons

Farmland: 365.000 hectares

Yield: 0.64 tons per hectare

Literacy Rate: 15%

Hermit's Notes:

Numbers!

I've now added the Verdant Isles territory to the summary. The population numbers there are estimated, since the region is still in a state of war and there hasn't been a proper census. Due to the large increase in total population (with all the newly conquered, but not yet controlled territories), as well as the fallout of the last war with lots of displaced people, total literacy and average yields in the royal territories are both down a bit. Meanwhile, total income is way up for the same reason (though a good chunk of this income is one-time, down to selling the manufactories and bonds). As a result of the massive income, financial reserves are way up, though that is bound to change as the debt ratio goes up and the bonds can no longer be sold as easily.

Chapter 483 - Year-End Review (Part 2)

"Since we're on a roll already, maybe we should keep up the good news," Corco said, and turned towards the figure who lazily leaned against the wall in the corner, the only one in the room who didn't look tense or excited and stood far away from everyone else.

"What's the newest development in our conflict on the Verdant Isles? Admiral Atau, How close are we to victory?" Corco asked with great expectations, though his cousin's response robbed the room of the previously gleeful mood.

For a few seconds, Atau just looked around the crowd and yawned, as if he had only just woken up, before he pushed off the wall and lazily walked up to Corco's desk. His cousin's sluggish attitude already told Corco that the news about the Verduic War wouldn't be nearly as good as he had hoped.

"Honestly, I don't quite understand why I was called back here, just to give a report," Atau finally complained, rather than answer the question.

"Just to give a report, that's why," Corco repeated with a patient smile, which ran counter to his inner feelings. "To make an accurate judgment on the state of the war, I need an expert opinion from someone with a good overview of what's happening. And it best be the opinion of someone I can trust. You're really the only one who fits the bill on both counts, so here you are."

Also, Maci asked, the king added in his head. After almost two full years of fighting with no result, his wife was predictably concerned with the war which still plagued her people. Thus, ever since the end of their vacation, Corco had made it a priority to end the war in the Verduic Sea as quickly as possible. Part of that effort was to recall Atau, to adjust their strategy, and to signal the rest of the government that he meant business.

Up until now, their strategy had been to grind down their enemies. Since they didn't have the same solid material and personnel support as the troops of Saniya, those Colored Kings would eventually lose on their own, which would reduce their losses.

The effectiveness of this approach had only been reconfirmed after the costly siege of Antila. They didn't want to waste any more good men if they didn't have to force a quick decision, so they had taken their time with the war in the west.

Now however, Corco understood that the longer the war lasted, the more the ordinary Verdant Folk would suffer, even if they could somewhat reduce their loss of soldiers. After his marriage, the people of the Verdant Isles had become his people as well. Yet in his head, he had still made a subconscious distinction between them and those of the Medala Empire, and valued his troops over the safety and prosperity of the Isles at large. This was a mistake he intended to rectify. So, since Sumaci wasn't here for the meeting as she was feeling unwell, he would have to correct their course in the war himself.

Thus, in order to emphasize the importance of the war, he had recalled Atau from his front line duties for this year's review. However, his cousin's casual attitude only made the war seem even less important. Worse, the admiral looked annoyed as he scratched his head, before he gave the worst possible answer.

"If you want to hear my expert opinion on the war: It's all a mess," he finally said, much to Corco's annoyance. Yet before the king could ask for more details — and maybe a better attitude — the prime minister chimed in first.

"Could we possibly get any more details than that, Admiral Atau? Please?" Fadelio prodded in a mean voice, one dripping in sarcasm. The admiral responded to his life-long nemesis with a dirty look, before he turned back to the king to reply. Although his tone still sounded annoyed, at least he didn't seem so bored any more. He even managed to stand up straight as he spoke.

"Just like we planned, last year we focused on landing operations on the Colored Islands, the homes of the Colored Kings," he explained. "Since we had an army advantage and their cities were poorly fortified, we quickly took over their capitals. Many of them don't even have proper walls, you know? They just trusted their weak navies too much. But that's where our good luck ended. Before we took the cities, the kings — and most of their entourage — escaped, either into the jungle or on their ships. Since then, we haven't found any proper trace of those kings. So all we could do was go slow and clear out random islands one by one, hoping we'll come across them in the process. Every once in a while, we actually find where one of them is holding out, deep in the jungle, or in some cove somewhere on the edge of the common trade lines. But as as soon as those pirates start losing ground on the island, they just take their ships and sail away again, and then we're back to the start. All the while, the ones we aren't hunting keep raiding our islands and harassing our trade lines. It's an endless task."

"I thought you had a naval advantage," Fadelio complained again, before Corco could ask a more reasonable question. "The kingdom wasted the taxes of the people to build you the largest navy in the Verduic Sea, yet you have failed to handle a few defeated pirates?"

Atau stared back at Fadelio, his pride attacked, and his competitive spirit ignited.

"It's not that simple, you genius. Let me enlighten you, since you seem to be a bit slow today. We're not an army, we're a navy. A defeated enemy can't really run away on land. They quickly lose their organization once they try to retreat without preparation. Even if they manage to organize a proper retreat, there's obstacles everywhere on land, like mountains and rivers. All of those block their escape. And feeding a large army while on the run is a challenge all on its own. So once an enemy is broken on land, they're just done. All you have to do is chase them a bit and they fall apart. On the high seas, things aren't so easy. The only obstacle on water is land, and there's not that much of it.. For the slow ones in the room, that means they can run in almost any direction, which is made worse by the complex terrain of the Verdant Isles. For rations, they can just feed their people with stuff they've saved up in their holds, and stock up through fishing, or occasional raids on undefended villages. A fleeing enemy navy only needs to organize a few ships as well, instead of the thousands of individuals an army would have to keep under control. So even if we beat them in a fight, they can just use their knowledge of the local waters and their weatherly ships to flee. So long as they won't fight us straight up, wiping them out will be almost impossible in the short-term."

Now that the issue was laid out in front of him like this, Corco realized that he had given his cousin a tricky problem without thinking about it too much. All this time, he had thought the only reason for their slow progress on the Verdant Isles had been their desire to minimize losses. Yet with their current approach, maybe they really weren't able to end this war quickly, even if they wanted to. Just as Corco wanted ask more questions to confirm his thoughts — and possibly provide more support for Atau in the war — Fadelio once more chimed in out of turn.

"It appears you are eager to make excuses for your failures," the prime minister said, and added a sneer to his face for good measure. Finally, Atau's very limited patience was exhausted as well.

"If you think you can do my job better, servant boy, then you do it," the admiral shouted. "These days, you just sit in your office and push papers around. Didn't even join the battles in the south last year. Maybe you forgot what a real war is after all these years. How about I give you a good beating to spur your memory, huh?"

"You-"

"Enough!" Corco slammed his fist on his desk before his two close friends could really start a fistfight in his office. All at once, a deathly silence fell over the room, as the king's privy council stared either at their leader or their respective feet in discomfort. Even the always careless Atau looked apologetic. However, he hadn't been the problem, not this time. Instead, the king turned towards the one who had been stepping out of line for a while now.

"Prime Minister Fadelio, stop speaking out of turn," a stern Corco said. "Your comments aren't helping anyone. If you have a problem with my admiral, then you can hand in a formal complaint about him later."

Fadelio looked around the room with a wide stare, as if he had only now realized what he had done. All around him, the officials of the kingdom were averting their eyes, to avoid any involvement in this mess. Only Atau stared back with a crooked grin of satisfaction. Finally, the prime minister took a step back and bowed deeply towards Atau.

"My apologies. I forgot my manners," he said, before he turned to Corco and added: "It will not happen again."

With deep concern hidden behind a stoic expression, Corco looked at his friend's bowed head. Usually, Fadelio was the calmest and most rational among their group. Even in his fights with Atau, he was rarely the instigator, and almost always remained level-headed throughout. Something must have happened to his friend during his absence, otherwise he would never have reacted like this. Maybe all the extra work had truly been too much. Maybe, his attendant also needed a vacation. Yet once again, this wasn't the right occasion to investigate the personal problems of his people, even if they were accumulating at an alarming rate today.

Thus, Corco could only make another mental note and continue the meeting. Once the obvious issues of the kingdom had been resolved, Corco was determined to fix those deeply hidden problems, before they could fester into deadly wounds.

For the moment however, the king first had to suppress the sigh which developed together with his growing concerns. He turned towards his cousin Atau, to begin asking the questions he had been eager to ask before the untimely interruption.

"Atau, how quickly can you get this war done?"

In response to the question, Atau just stared at him in discomfort for a while. Maybe he himself felt incompetent at his failed campaign.

"I have no idea," he finally admitted with a tired sigh. "At the moment, we're really just going around in circles. The Verdant Isles just have too many islands, and they're far too complex. We might have support from the captains of the Green Island, but our progress has still been slow. I mean, even they only know about a fraction of the islands, mostly those around the Green Island. But those Colored Kings like to hide in the places our people know least about. So far, we have tried mapping out the islands to reduce our disadvantage, but it's only shown me even more how many damn islands there are. That's a work we won't finish in a generation. We've already found dozens of groups of deadly underwater reefs, and the rapids, especially around the Red Island, are-"

"Don't explain stuff I won't understand," Corco interrupted. He didn't have the nerve to watch his cousin vent about the technical details of his mission for an hour. Ultimately, he wasn't looking for explanations for the failure. He only wanted to know a single thing. "Just give me an estimate. How long will it take?"

"That's... hard to say."

Again, Atau was dancing around the problem. Just when Corco wanted to force an answer, another voice spoke out of turn, this time to mediate.

"King Corcopaca, is it really necessary to hunt this rabble to the ends of the earth?" Makipura — Corco's new Minister of Agriculture — asked. "After all, almost the entirety of the Verdant Isles' food is produced on the Colored Islands. So long as those islands are under control, the kingdom can take full advantage of the new territories. Even more, those rootless pirates will not be able to stand up to our power forever, not without a stable food supply. Eventually, they will simply disappear."

"I agree. Almost all the verdant industry is placed on the Colored Islands, too," Asiro — the Minister of Industry — added, though it only earned him a dirty look from Makipura. So far, his noble ministers had strictly stayed away from the commoners in Corco's council. It was yet another problem he added to his imaginary 'to-be-resolved' pile. Since it was on the pile now, rather than address the issue immediately, he explained his concerns instead, at least those beyond his desire to see his wife happy.

"Sure, maybe we can exploit the islands with the level of control we have right now. But I don't want to exploit them, I want to rule them. First off, so long as the pirates are still around, our trade lines to the west will never be secure. Those trade lines are the most important thing for us, far more important than the local industry or agriculture. Without those trade lines, we can't transport important foreign goods like rubber or camels to our country anymore. Even our niter shipments from the Bat Islands have suffered attacks since the start of the war. Though all of that are only minor issues compared to our main problem." Corco paused dramatically for a moment. "The endless war makes communication between the Verdant Folk and Medalans more and more difficult. Unifying the two groups into one, united nation is a crucial part of our development strategy. Again, we're not there for conquest. I'm already the legitimate king of those lands. All we want to do is liberate our people there, and to make sure they accept their own role in our dual kingdom while we're at it. I need to know when we'll have those safe trade routes available to work on those goals. Because if the time frame is too long, we'll have to adjust our long-term strategy again."

Finally, Corco turned towards Atau, to repeat his question once more.

"So? How long?"

Again, Atau hesitated before he replied, but this time, there was no one left to help him out. Thus, he had to sigh again and admit the truth.

"Years? Decades maybe."

"What!?"

Finally, Corco lost his composure. This was a much larger problem than the mighty King of the South had anticipated.

Hermit's Notes: One more chapter of the meeting, and then we move on to the next story line (also, lots of numbers next. Yay.)