Knight: Becoming King of the World

After dinner, Henry left his cabin and went on deck. The atmosphere there was a bit somber.

Ailia and a few other handmaidens in charge of meals were busy clearing away the dinner plates. They looked unwell, clearly suffering from seasickness as well.

For people like them, who came from the eastern grasslands or the inland regions of the empire, a ship was something they might see only a few times in their entire lives, to say nothing of sailing on the open sea.

Every swell of the waves brought a fresh wave of nausea to Ailia. She fought back the discomfort, doing her best to keep her hands steady as she collected the used utensils one by one, her forehead already beaded with sweat.

"Headmaiden, are you all right?"

Ailia forced a smile and nodded. "I’m fine, just a little seasick."

A handmaiden sighed and handed her a damp cloth. "Wipe your sweat. Don’t push yourself too hard."

Ailia took the damp cloth, gently dabbed her forehead, and shot the handmaiden a grateful look.

"You should get some rest."

The handmaiden quickly bowed her head in thanks, a flicker of smugness in her eyes. ’A small gesture, a trivial word of concern, and I get to do less work and rest more.’

As the sky grew darker, the sea wind turned biting. The soldiers on deck, along with the sailors and crew, began to look for shelter from the wind, hoping to find a bit of warmth amidst the lurching of the ship.

Some soldiers even started trying to unroll the sleeping bags Henry had bought for them back in the desert.

The waves continued to slap against the hull, but the soldiers were gradually adapting to the rhythm. The night grew still and quiet as the merchant ship forged ahead through the sea, carrying Henry and his army toward Vostrom.

"Bain, how are you doing? Seasick?"

"My lord, I’m doing all right. It’s nothing serious. But you know Selas, Roland, and Leon? The five of them aren’t seasick one bit."

Henry smiled. "Of course. They all come from the western coastal regions. They’ve all been on boats before, at the very least. Even if they did get seasick, they’d still be much better off than us."

Henry’s gaze shifted from the soldiers on deck to Bain, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Bain, how have you and Orianna been lately?"

Bain’s face instantly flushed red. He scratched his head, looking uncomfortable, and stammered, "Er, my lord, we’re... we’re doing fine."

Henry chuckled and pressed him. "Just fine? From what I’ve seen, when you two are together, the atmosphere seems a bit more than ’just fine.’"

The blush on Bain’s face deepened. He ducked his head, his voice barely a whisper. "We’re... we’re still getting to know each other."

Henry nodded and didn’t press the matter further. He knew Bain and Orianna’s relationship was developing slowly, and that was a good thing.

He patted Bain’s shoulder encouragingly. "With matters of the heart, just let it happen naturally. No need to be so tense."

Bain looked up, giving Henry a puzzled glance. ’Why does it feel like Henry’s speaking from experience? How strange.’

Bain mustered up the courage to ask in return, "My lord, what about you? When are you going to think about getting married?"

The question silenced Henry. A complex emotion flickered in his eyes. He turned to gaze at the distant horizon, his voice low. "My situation... let’s not talk about that right now."

The two young men leaned against the ship’s rail, a shared silence between them.

The sea wind whistled and the waves slapped against the hull, as if giving voice to their unspoken thoughts.

The moon hung high in the sky, its light joined by twinkling stars, providing a faint glimmer for the lonely merchant ship on its voyage.

"Get some rest. Life on a ship is even more boring than camping in the wild."

Henry returned to his cabin, changed into his silk pajamas, and fell asleep under his velvet blanket.

The next day, everything was normal and peaceful.

Henry, groggy from sleep, didn’t get up until eleven o’clock. After lunch, the day was shaping up to be a tedious one.

He was just about to summon Ailia for a few small games to pass the time when a series of urgent knocks startled him.

A Senior Infantryman reported a commotion on the other merchant ship. A crewman had been accused of theft and caught red-handed by the soldiers.

Henry scratched his head, changed his clothes, and strode out of his cabin.

He ordered the captain to bring the two merchant ships alongside each other. After they slowed, a gangplank was laid across. Henry crossed the narrow walkway connecting the two vessels and arrived at the scene of the incident.

The scene was rather chaotic when he arrived.

The captain of the merchant ship was trying to placate the furious soldiers by offering compensation for the loss, hoping to save the crewman’s life.

The merchant ship’s sailors and crewmen were cornered by Henry’s soldiers, their expressions a mixture of fear and anger. Henry’s soldiers, in turn, were acting aggressively, and the situation was on the verge of spiraling out of control.

Henry surveyed the scene. ’Why do my soldiers look more like the villains here?’

Henry found the soldier who had been robbed and calmly asked him for the details. He then turned to the accused crewman. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

The crewman’s face was pale and his eyes were shifty. He stammered out an attempt at an explanation but was clearly unable to offer any rational defense.

Henry turned to the captain. "At sea, you have your own rules. But everyone must be held responsible for their actions, correct?"

The captain nodded hurriedly, offering a pouch filled with Silver Coins. "Lord Baron, he stole three Dinars. We will offer fifty Silver Coins as compensation."

Henry shook his head. "Compensation is what’s owed for stealing someone’s money. That isn’t the punishment. You," he said, pointing, "whichever hand he stole with, chop off three of its fingers."

"Ah?! My lord, my lor—"

SLICE!

Without a second thought, not even bothering to ask which hand, the soldier who had been robbed grabbed the crewman’s right hand and lopped off the middle three fingers.

’Steal, will you? Now you won’t even have the strength to wipe your own ass!’

Everyone else was scared silent. The captain quickly gestured with his eyes to a sailor, who dragged the screaming crewman away and gagged him.

But then, Henry continued, "Detain this crewman for now. When the ship reaches Vostrom, he’ll be subject to further proceedings. The city court there will deliver the proper sentence."

The captain was dumbfounded. ’He’s being punished twice?’

This was the "charm" of imperial law. It had countless articles, complex local statutes, and even conflicting versions overall.

So, when judging what crime a person has actually committed, which law of the Caladia Empire was supposed to be the standard?

The presiding judge and the nobility, of course. Such was the "charm" of discretionary justice.

Henry looked at the captain. "I expect every one of you to return to your posts now and continue with the voyage."

The soldiers gradually dispersed, and the sailors returned to their duties.

This time, however, the soldiers’ eyes were glued to the busy sailors and crew. Even the captain found himself under the "special protection" of two Senior Infantrymen.

Henry’s gaze swept across the deck. Though the incident was resolved for now, it had exposed the latent tensions on board.

’So, how to ensure nothing like this happens again?’

’The immediate answer: chop.’

The sea breeze gradually gentled, and sunlight scattered across the sparkling surface of the sea. Everything seemed so peaceful.

After dealing with the little incident of the thief on the other merchant ship, Henry returned to the flagship, his expression grave.

He saw Claude standing at the prow, staring at the distant waves as if lost in thought.

Henry walked over and clapped a hand on Claude’s shoulder, breaking him from his reverie.

"What’s on your mind? You’re a thousand miles away," Henry asked.

Claude snapped out of it and smiled. "Nothing much. Just missing Westwood Laine. Counting the days, it should be snowing there soon."

Henry nodded. "I wonder how Tommy is getting on with developing Westwood Laine. How’s the road widening and paving coming along? Has the first phase of the urban district been completed, and are they building the walls for it yet?"

Claude picked up where Henry left off. "And what about the development of the surrounding villages? Has the population reached capacity? Are the soldiers I left behind sufficient? How is the silver mine’s output?"

They went on and on about the state of Westwood Laine, covering every detail from urban construction to economic development, even speculating on the silver mine’s likely output.

Finally, Henry made a proposal. "Let’s make a bet. When we get back to Westwood Laine, we’ll see whose predictions were more accurate."

Claude’s eyes lit up. "All right. What are the stakes?"

Henry thought for a moment, then said with a grin, "If I win, you have to take on more responsibilities. If you win, I’ll give you ten days of leave.

"And if we’re both wrong, we’ll give Tommy’s ass a good kicking with our boots. How about it?"

Claude burst out laughing when he heard that Tommy might end up being punished too. "Deal!"

A certain busy official named Tommy was, at that moment, completely unaware that his ass was in peril.

"My lord, look what I found!"

While wandering around the ship, Selas had stumbled upon some fishing rods forgotten in a corner. They were much thicker and longer than the ones used for river fishing, clearly designed for catching large fish in the ocean.

He excitedly brought the rods to Henry and proposed a fishing competition—a way to both kill time and add something extra to dinner.

Henry was delighted by the suggestion. He agreed at once and ordered his Attendants to prepare the necessary bait and other fishing tackle.

Henry looked a bit clumsy as he baited the large hook. It was his first time fishing on the open sea.

Selas suggested they stand at the stern, where the water was calmer and thus an ideal spot for fishing.

At Henry’s signal, the fishing competition officially began.

Lines were cast into the sea, and Henry stared intently at the water’s surface, waiting for a bite.

Before long, Roland’s rod was the first to twitch. He excitedly reeled in his line, and a large, shimmering silver fish was pulled from the water.

The onlooking soldiers let out a cheer, and Roland raised his eyebrows smugly.

Henry closed his eyes. ’It’s just a fish. What’s there to be so smug about?’