Chapter 839
Hector tapped the two islands again with the pointer and added, "Both sides have sanctuaries. Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing which one is real."
A quest window appeared before Ian’s eyes.
[Two Sanctuaries.]
It was clearly a chained quest, following up on the Black Sea quest that he had completed the moment he set foot on the dock.
"Only the heathens who worship Raskagin know the truth," Hector said while Ian skimmed through the quest details.
Hector then clicked his tongue. "I’ve interrogated some of them before, trying to find out, but the moment they tried to give in and speak, they twisted into something grotesque and died."
"Yeah. Figures." Ian closed the quest window and looked back at the map.
Both islands lie slightly apart from the main territories of the archipelago’s lords. But to reach them from here, they’d either have to cut straight through the heart of the archipelago or take a long detour along the outer edges.
"Fifty-fifty odds, then."
"Or perhaps both are decoys, and the real sanctuary is hidden elsewhere. The people of the archipelago are cunning."
Ian let out a quiet scoff at that. "Doesn’t matter. I’ll know once I get close."
He had a familiar tied to a fragment of an ancient god, not to mention the essence bead of chaos. Even his divine power might act as a kind of compass.
Clicking his tongue, Ian picked up his drink. "Visiting both islands isn’t an option."
"It won’t be. The moment our fleet leaves Milav, heathen ships from nearby waters will converge within hours." Hector leaned the staff back against the wall and narrowed his eye slightly.
As Ian took a drink, Hector stepped back toward the table. "Considering their numbers, it wouldn’t be surprising if ships from across the entire region gathered."
"So the journey itself won’t be smooth."
"Have no concern. Every ship is equipped with magic devices that enhance speed. At the very least, we won’t be outpaced before reaching one of the targets."
Speaking with confidence, Hector sat across from him again. "I’ll have additional devices installed on the smuggling ships you brought as well."
Despite the sly smile, his words were reassuring.
Of course, it was enough to bring to mind the fugitives once chased by the Black Fleet. It even looked like it could unleash a gale, much like Sanford’s old ship.
Ian nodded as he pulled out his cigarette case. "I’ll let them know. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that if we guess wrong, we’ll be surrounded."
"When that happens, we’ll prioritize your survival above all else. Our fleet may be diminished, but we still have enough firepower to break through one side of an encirclement."
As if swearing an oath, Hector raised and drained his cup in one go.
So he’s ready to die for it.
Ian placed a cigarette between his lips, then paused.
A completely different thought had abruptly crossed his mind.
"Your Grace?" asked Hector, tilting his head.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Ian casually ignited a flame in his palm and said, "If we had decided to leave the archipelago, those heathens would’ve chased us anyway, right?"
Hector stared at the flame for a moment, then nodded, narrowing his eye. "Most likely. Now that I think about it, the pursuit would have been quite fierce. They would have realized I was fleeing."
"It would’ve been easier to shake them off than it is now," Ian added, closing his fist and scattering the flame.
"Yes. If we had prepared in advance, it wouldn’t have been too difficult. And once we left these waters, it would have become even easier," Hector answered without hesitation.
"I see," Ian murmured, exhaling smoke. A faint, peculiar smile curled at the corner of his lips.
Shifting the cigarette between his fingers, he turned his gaze to the map on the wall and added, "The island ruled by that traitorous Imperial lord... that’s Tipica, south of Milav, right?"
"Yes. Almand Angria. That despicable wretch is the one who betrayed the heavens and became a servant of the heretics," Hector answered smoothly, though his eye twitched slightly as if unsure of Ian’s intent.
His gaze followed Ian’s to the southeastern part of the map, where Tipica was marked. "He’s also the one who killed most of my men."
"Then I suppose you’d like to settle that score."
Hector nodded without the slightest hesitation. "Of course. I’d pour every ounce of firepower I have into him."
"Then why not do exactly that?"
"Pardon?" Hector turned his head a beat too late, asking in confusion.
Ian placed the cigarette back between his lips, curling one corner of his mouth as he looked at him. "Before we leave the archipelago."
As Hector blinked in bewilderment, Ian exhaled a stream of smoke and added, "I’m thinking of changing the plan a bit. Something that relies... a little less on luck."
***
Outside was noticeably darker than when they had entered.
Charlotte, standing by the entrance with her hands clasped behind her back, greeted Ian. "Your Grace."
Her tone and posture were impeccably formal, clearly mindful of the guards nearby.
Ian turned to her at once, meeting her orange eyes with a smile. "That took longer than expected. You must’ve been waiting a while."
"It’s nothing," Charlotte replied calmly and stepped aside.
Passing her naturally, Ian took in the open surroundings.
The sky was thick with dark clouds, swollen and ready to pour rain. The silhouettes of the ships docked at the harbor swayed slowly, a sign that the sea had grown restless.
Swoosh—
A lukewarm breeze rolled down the hill, brushing past Ian. Unlike before, the air carried a faintly savory scent mixed in with the usual briny, fishy smell.
Gazing up at the city stretching along the dark hillside, Ian murmured, "Looks like everyone’s eaten their fill."
Dim lights flickered here and there, but hardly any people could be seen.
Charlotte gave a small nod. "Yes. Thanks to Lady Elia."
"The guards are far enough now, Charlotte," Ian added with a slight curl of his lips.
Charlotte awkwardly flicked her tongue. "Right," she continued. "We fed the civilians and sent the fairies and the warriors to their lodgings to rest."
Ian nodded with a faint smile, recalling the exhausted, dirt-covered fairies and beastfolk. "They’ve probably all passed out by now."
Charlotte strode forward, nodding. "I set up our lodgings farther uphill. Just in case any pointy-ears try to eavesdrop."
"Good call. Though I doubt anyone would feel like it." Ian shrugged.
Unless they were trying to run away.
He kept his gaze fixed on the bleak city ahead.
The settlement stretched along a gentle slope, but for its size, it was crude and chaotic—practically a massive shantytown. The smell alone made that obvious.
"We left the carriage by the ship, but moved everything inside it for now. As for the supplies we’ll be using—" Charlotte continued her report as they stepped onto the main road.
Ian simply nodded, looking up toward the city. Halfway up the slope, a roughly leveled square came into view. It seemed to be the source of that oddly savory scent mixed with the stench.
"And we got word from Pointy-Ear too, Ian," Charlotte said quietly after a few more steps.
It was enough to make Ian furrow his brow and turn toward her. "They’ve arrived there already?"
"They might’ve gotten there hours before us. When I checked, the letter was already there."
At her nod, a faint smile crossed Ian’s lips. The South was closer than the archipelago. And unlike them, they hadn’t had to cross the doldrums or risk being intercepted.
"They said they’ll head back as soon as they finish up. Apparently, they’re going to the Magic Tower," Charlotte added flatly, clicking her tongue as if not entirely pleased.
Ian let out a quiet snort and turned his gaze forward again. "We might end up meeting sooner than expected."
"No, we won’t. That Pointy-Ear is definitely going to stir up trouble. Just like the ones here."
As Charlotte scoffed, Ian’s steps slowed on their own. It wasn’t just because they had reached the plaza halfway up the hill. As expected, dying campfires, large pots, and piles of wooden bowls stacked on tables came into view.
"Our lodgings are over there, Ian," Charlotte said as she raised her right hand and pointed ahead.
Ian, already drifting toward the pot that smelled especially good, glanced in that direction.
A large log house stood out, built in a spot that overlooked everything below.
Nodding, Ian picked up a plate and asked, "Close enough. Where are the smuggling captains staying?"
Charlotte stopped at once and answered, "The captains are staying on their own ships. They said they’d rest there while handling some cleanup."
"Should’ve asked sooner." Clicking his tongue lightly, Ian scooped some stew onto his plate. He continued, "Looks like that area is where the troops are staying. Grab someone nearby and have them bring the captain of the Black Wave to me."
"I’ll go myself." Charlotte turned and answered, then dashed off before Ian could add anything. Her movements were surprisingly light and quick for her size.
—Quite the prize. Almost as tempting as the Redhead.
Yog’s amused whisper slipped into Ian’s mind as he turned away with a small click of his tongue.
"Looks like you’re awake," Ian muttered as he picked up his pace. He wanted to eat before the stew got cold. The ingredients were meager, but it had been a while since he’d had Elia’s cooking.
—The divine energy is irritating. It was much cozier yesterday.
Yog replied lazily.
As Ian stepped into the grimy street where their lodgings were, he gave a small nod. "Perfect timing. Since you’re up, take a look around the city. See if any corrupted ones are mixed in. If you find any, remember them and report back."
—Sure thing.
A faint prickling sensation spread across his wrist. Soon, Yog dissolved into smoke and slipped out through the gap in his glove.
Ian opened the door and stepped inside.
Miguel, who had been sitting at the table inside, stood up to greet him. "Oh, you’re finally here!"
He looked far more comfortable now, dressed in lighter clothes.
Elia, seated across from him, also rose as Miguel added with a grin, "You were taking so long, I thought you might’ve just stayed over there for the night."
Ian let out a small snort and gestured for him to sit. "Looks like you’re alive again."
At the same time, he took a slow look around the interior. It was the kind of structure only seen in remote regions—a single space connecting the kitchen and even a stable.
Snort...
From the corner of the stable, Nila lifted its head with a puff of breath. It seemed the warhorses had been stabled elsewhere.
Ian nodded at it in greeting, while Miguel, perched on a chair, let out a deep sigh.
"Don’t even get me started. I practically died and came back. Just thinking about getting on a ship again makes my vision go dark..."
"So, did your talk with Count Drapier go well?" asked Elia.