Chapter 8: Freedom

The bounty for Bloodhand was to be claimed at the Bounty Hunter's Guild, but doing so would risk exposing his identity. Given the unclear situation, it was wiser to lay low for now.

The magic crossbow wasn't particularly useful to him. The real prize, however, was the fact that he himself was an alchemist, and crafting such low-level magical gear was well within his skill set.

Using a useless item like this to exchange for information with Captain Holman seemed like a reasonable trade. Surely, the captain would appreciate it, right?

"..."

Captain Holman fell silent, looking at Ian again, this time with a more serious gaze. The young man had single-handedly dealt a heavy blow to Bloodhand Corill, and Holman had already prepared a number of contingency plans in case things turned sour.

At nearly fifty, Captain Holman's face bore the marks of time. His hair and beard had turned grey. He had arrived on these seas decades ago, shortly after the fog had lifted. His past would make for a dark and gritty epic, a tale of thirty years of struggle and survival.

To Holman, humanity—nobles, even more so—was driven by greed. And those with extraordinary power? They were even more insatiable. A person like Ian, who possessed such talent, was a rare anomaly. In his experience, the world was filled with fools and villains. A young man like Ian seemed almost too good to be true.

"You..." Holman began.

"I've never been to Paradise Island," Ian interrupted, "Would Captain Holman be willing to offer some advice to a young traveler?"

Holman exhaled in relief. "Of course, I'd be happy to."

"What would you like to know?"

"Hmmm... as much as you can tell me. The port, the people, the garrison, the church, the association of extraordinary individuals... anything, really."

"Alright."

Captain Holman had sailed between Stormcape and Paradise Island for many years and knew the island like the back of his hand.

Paradise Island, shaped like a long mango, tilted toward the southwest. It covered about 1,200 square kilometers, and its population was uncertain, though it likely numbered in the hundreds of thousands. The narrow end of the mango-shaped island jutted out, forming a sheltered harbor, the largest on the island, known as Paradise Port.

In addition to this, there were at least ten other ports, each controlled by a different noble, some of which were not even open to the public.

Paradise Island, as the biggest springboard for exploring the Miraculous Sea, had initially been monopolized by the Poderya Kingdom, given its proximity. However, over time, pressure from other powers forced them to make concessions, selling off much of the land, leaving only the area around Paradise Port under their control. As a result, the island was now home to a mixture of different factions, including various associations of the extraordinary, the Seven True Gods Church, and royal families from different nations.

The most powerful faction on the island was still the Poderya Kingdom. Their Second Fleet maintained a strong presence on the island and at Stormcape, controlling the vital trade routes. While other factions were not weak, their interests mostly lay to the south, in the unexplored regions of the Miraculous Sea.

Rumor had it that dozens of islands had already been discovered south of Paradise Island, some even larger than Paradise itself.

Ian was grateful for Captain Holman's detailed account. It was far more than he had expected and would be immensely helpful.

"Thank you, Captain Holman," Ian said sincerely. "This information is very valuable."

Holman waved it off. "You flatter me, Mr. Tryst. It's the least I could do."

Ian politely declined the captain's offer to accompany him and returned to his room.

The next morning, Ian emerged from a deep meditation. The world felt alive with energy, as if his thoughts and body were both reinvigorated. His senses were sharp, his vitality surging, and the sense of power filling his body was overwhelming.

The world was vast, the ebb and flow of magical energy like tides crashing against the shore. In this moment, he felt like a fish in the sea, a bird in the sky, or even a breeze drifting freely across the landscape. It was a sensation of unbounded freedom, and he was intoxicated by it.

Yesterday, he had been a weary, struggling worker, trapped in the grind of society, yearning for escape. This was an entirely new experience.

The sensation of being extraordinary... it was unlike anything else.

But he knew better than to let his guard down. After all, he was still trapped in the perilous situation of his family's annihilation, with dangers lurking in the shadows. The threat of a fatal attack was still very real.

Ian pushed open the door to his room and walked down the narrow hallway to the stairwell leading to the aft deck. Looking out over the deck, he saw a commotion below. A large group of crew members had gathered, with a dozen or so ragged slaves at the center, looking somewhat confused and unsure.

"Shut up, all of you!"

The First Mate, a burly man with a thick beard, blew a sharp whistle, brandishing a whip and commanding the crew to be quiet.

"Everyone, listen to the captain!"

The First Mate pointed to the top of the aft deck, and Ian turned to see Captain Holman standing there, his captain's hat atop his head, smiling down at him.

"Good morning, Mr. Tryst," Holman said, nodding toward him.

"Good morning, Captain Holman," Ian replied. "What's going on here?"

"Well, it's time to fulfill yesterday's promise!" Holman called out, his voice booming across the deck. "One moment, Mr. Tryst."

Holman raised his hand, holding up the severed bloodstained hand of Corill, the infamous leader of the Bloodhand Pirates.

The crew below erupted into a frenzy of cheers.

"Yesterday, we repelled the notorious Bloodhand Pirates and even took the hand of Corill himself!"

Holman raised the severed hand high, showing it to the crew.

"We must thank Mr. Tryst, who dealt a heavy blow to Corill. Without him, the Breezebreaker would have been lost!"

He gestured to the hand.

"And, in Mr. Tryst's great generosity, this hand will remain aboard the Breezebreaker to be used as a prize for the bounty!"

"I promise you, this bounty will be fairly distributed among the crew!"

Holman bowed slightly and gestured toward Ian, who was standing at the foot of the stairs.

The crew looked up at Ian, and after a brief silence, an even louder round of cheers erupted from the men.

"Thank you, Mr. Tryst!"

"Mr. Tryst is invincible!"

"Thank you, Captain!"

The cheers grew louder, and Ian realized that to these sailors, the value of gold coins was far more tangible than any gratitude they might feel for saving their lives.

Holman was pleased with the response. Yesterday's attack had shaken the crew, and raising their spirits was important. It didn't matter whether they truly believed it or not; they needed something to hold on to.

Holman raised his hand, signaling for silence. Gradually, the noise died down.

"Additionally, some of the slaves fought bravely in yesterday's battle," Holman continued. "As promised, I, Holman Davis, will keep my word!"

He looked down at the slaves, their faces a mix of hope and skepticism.

"From now on, you are free. Once we reach port, you may leave as you wish."

The slaves exchanged glances, clearly unsure of whether they could believe it.

"First Mate!" Holman called, tossing a small leather pouch to the burly man.

"Give them each two 'Little Cuties!'"

The term "Little Cuties" was a slang used around the Miraculous Sea for small silver coins. Similarly, "Big Cuties" referred to large silver coins, and "Golden Suns" or "Golden Knights" were used for gold coins.

The First Mate opened the pouch and began handing out two small silver coins to each of the slaves.

The crew around them watched closely, eyes gleaming with anticipation.