Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 99

Selimus—that was the name of the port town Walm had visited. The town had developed as a midway point for sailing ships engaged in maritime trade, frequented by commercial vessels from the three great nations and the abhorred transport ships of the Libertoa Trade Federation. The arrival of crew members brought a flurry of consumption to the town, where restaurants and brothels lined the bustling streets, despite its moderate size.

After parting ways with the farmers he had travelled with briefly, Walm stocked up on daily necessities and food at a recommended store and then headed towards the port. As he stepped into the port town, the scent of the sea grew stronger. While it was not a pleasant smell for everyone, Walm’s heart surged with anticipation, like a girl in love, and his pace quickened naturally.

Loud voices of sailors, likely ashore temporarily, jolted Walm’s eardrums. Dodging old wooden boxes spilling out of shops and stained barrels, he passed through rows of warehouses to find the scene he was seeking. The sea was vast as ever. Sunlight reflected off the surface of the water stretching to the horizon, and waves continuously hit against the pier.

“Ah, the sea. It’s really good that it’s not red, black, or yellow.”

In a world where even two moons float in the sky, who could guarantee the sea would remain as it was in the original world? Its color, viscosity, and smell could have been different. Walm had harbored such fears but was relieved to find the sea unchanged from his former world.

Amid the loading and unloading, raspy voices exchanged words along the docks. Sea breeze clung to the skin, and Walm inhaled the scent fully, absentmindedly watching the froth’s fate. In the sky, numerous birds busily traversed between the sky and the sea.

“Good feathers for arrows, though there’s hardly any meat.”

Walm muttered, covering his head. He had completely viewed the seabirds as a resource. Had he been in his world before, such thoughts would never have occurred to him. It sounded better to call it adapting, but part of Walm’s core had transformed, causing him an unbearable dizziness.

The morals and so-called conscience cultivated had meant nothing on the battlefield. He had killed so many people, committed atrocities. Even if the color of the sea had not changed, Walm’s eyes had darkened and altered. His hands were gruesomely stained with blood. He was aware he could no longer behave as he did before killing people. Yet Walm was too weak to discard them completely. He suffered between ideals and reality, a foolish human unable to accept.

“I hate that it’s come to this. ”

Walm’s muttering was drowned out by the lapping waves. He took a pipe from his belt pouch and puffed purple smoke, abandoning further thoughts. His initial excitement never returned.

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What a spectacle. Peeking into a tavern, Walm was even impressed by the frenzy inside. Chairs knocked over, food scraps scattered everywhere, and dislodged bottles rolled back and forth across the tavern.

Walm had been directed to a tavern frequented by sailors, but perhaps he had misunderstood the location. Despite repeatedly checking the appearance and directions, there was no mistake. Men engaged in wrestling, cheered on by surrounding sailors, caught his glance without a trace of panic.

“Ah, haaah, aah, AAAH!”

Walm decided to accept it as it was. The men shed their torn clothes, grunting deeply, indulging in wrestling half-naked—it was a mere child’s play compared to the absurdities of the battlefield.

Ignoring them, Walm entered the tavern, picked out an intact chair, and sat down, addressing the tavern keeper.

“It’s thriving here.”

“Aye, the worn-out chairs and tables will get replaced.”

“That’s good. I’d like something to drink and some food.”

The keeper turned around and offered a bottle. There were no fancy glasses. Walm hesitated not a moment before tilting the bottle. The sweet aroma lingered, a burnt caramel flavor with a mix of sweetness and bitterness.

“Rum?”

Walm uttered the name. It was a beloved drink among sailors. Rum, a distilled liquor made from sugarcane, uses the residual molasses from sugar refining as its main ingredient. Sugarcane was a pillar supporting the wealth of the Archipelago Countries. The sailors enjoyed a share of its benefits as liquor in the port town. It was, undoubtedly, the most fitting drink to be served here.

While Walm was distracted by the rum, a plate of freshly served food was delivered.

“So fast?”

“I should mention, it’s not pre-made. It would be a waste to serve this to them.”

Understanding the keeper’s remarks, Walm grasped the situation. Those who had ordered were either rolling on the floor or surrounding it. There was no reason for Walm to hold back, especially since it had been a long time since he had a warm meal.

The dish was the fried food he had been longing for, oozing fat as he cut into it with a knife. From within the golden-brown crust, the white flesh peeked out. Walm stuffed his mouth full of the fried pieces. The crust, fried to a perfect crunch, complemented the mild white fish. Whether it was cod or pollock was unclear, but unlike river fish, it had little odor and seemed to fit endlessly into Walm’s stomach.

As Walm quietly continued his meal, the tavern keeper teased him.

“You eat quite elegantly, don’t you?”

“Thanks, I suppose. Should I have kicked over the chair and grabbed the food with my bare hands, scattering crumbs all over?”

“No, stay as you are.”

The tavern keeper shrugged as if surrendering. Walm enjoyed the fried potatoes that came with the dish, occasionally washing them down with rum. After a satisfying meal, he turned to the keeper as the party behind them came to an end with one of the men stretching out.

“Changing the subject, I’m looking for a ship.”

“Three silver coins for the meal and the drink,” said the tavern keeper, tapping the counter. Walm understood it as a prompt for payment. He pulled out his coin pouch and handed over three silver coins.

“Destination and timing?”

“Labyrinth City, the sooner the better.”

The tavern keeper pocketed two of the silver coins and toyed with the remaining one, lost in thought.

“Egin is still having fun, and Telum is going to the opposite direction. Ah, Sarshef is still around. That makes Berim Beggar the best option.”

Remembering this, the keeper knocked on the counter with the silver coin.

“Sarshef, a customer! He wishes to travel to Labyrinth City by ship.”

At the keeper’s call, a man emerged from the tavern’s noise. His sun-burnt skin and robust limbs, no doubt shaped by hard labor, and more importantly, the broad frame and curved cutlass he wore, suggested he was used to rough work on board.

“Here, your referral fee,” the keeper threw the remaining silver coin to the man named Sarshef.

“Oh, a mercenary. You seem to have earned a fair bit.”

Sarshef, without any reservation, stared at Walm from head to toe.

“Can’t soldiers get on board?”

“Everyone is welcome, be it people or fish. Customer is always a customer. He’ll pay for the drink.”

With a toothy grin, Sarshef banged on a bottle of liquor.

“We leave in an hour, and the fare is three gold coins and six silver coins. Can you pay?”

“I’ll manage.”

“That’s good. First time travelling by sea?”

“Yeah.”

Walm had been on fishing boats and houseboats in his old world, but they had returned to land in less than half a day. It would be his first time on a real sea voyage.

“I’m kind-hearted, so I’ll show you the ropes. There aren’t many rules. No blades in fights, some brawling happens depending on the situation. No petty theft or small fires. You’ll end up surrounded by sewage and rats below deck. Bring your own food and water. Ten days’ worth should be fine. Worst case, you can buy them, but they’re tasteless and cost four times more than on land. If you buy, go through me, I’ll give you a discount, triple price. You’ll sleep together with everyone, so hold your possessions close. If you stay out of the way, you can come up on deck for fresh air. That’s about it.”

His fluent delivery indicated he was used to saying this. Thankfully, the guide to the ship was not a drunk sailor acting suspiciously and incoherently. Walm felt like giving Sarshef a round of applause.

“That looks like all your luggage, are you ready?”

“Yes, seems like it will be a comfortable journey.”

Walm shook the hand offered by the sailor Sarshef and together, they left the tavern.

Translator – Lyxxna