Chapter 9: Mirtha

In this age, the purchasing power of gold and silver is formidable. Even in the bustling port of Heaven's Harbor, a single minted coin can buy a pound of black bread.

Though two small silver coins weren't much, they were enough to help these slaves get by until they found work. It was only now that the slaves realized this captain might actually be sincere.

"Captain, I have a request," a tall, thin slave stepped forward. Ian recognized him as the man who had risen from the cabin to join the fight the day before.

"Speak."

The man immediately knelt on the ground, placing the two small silver coins in front of him. "I want to use my freedom to buy my child's freedom."

"He's too young, not worth much. I'll stay behind. Captain, please let him go." The man lifted his head, nervously staring at Captain Homan.

Homan fell silent.

The other slaves, too, wiped the smiles off their faces, now tense with anticipation. Were they worried about the man's fate or were they also hoping for something?

"You lowly animal, the captain has already shown mercy by releasing you. How dare you make demands?" The bearded first mate rushed forward and kicked the man over, raising his whip to lash down on him.

Ian frowned slightly at the scene, feeling a bit uneasy, though he had no intention of intervening. Despite Captain Homan's earlier kindness, he knew it was all based on his own strength. The brutal, bloody, and greedy side of the sea was the real face of the Age of Exploration.

He couldn't interfere, nor did he intend to.

"Enough!" Captain Homan's sharp voice cut through the noise. "Who gave you the right to make decisions for me? Get down!" He turned to the man and then glared at the first mate, who immediately backed away.

"What's your name?"

"Bart, sir. My name is Bart."

"Bring his child here."

Moments later, a crew member in charge of the slaves appeared, leading a small boy, no older than 13, who was clearly frail and malnourished. His hair hung messily around his face, and his grey eyes mirrored his father's. Both father and son were grimy, barely recognizable.

"Is this him?"

"Yes, yes, this is him."

The father, with visible anxiety, hugged the boy tightly, his eyes filled with gratitude.

"My promise to free you remains unchanged," Captain Homan said calmly, "but now, I'm offering you a chance."

"When we dock, you may leave with him, but you must pay a ransom of one gold sun within a month."

The man immediately knelt again, hands trembling as he thanked Captain Homan profusely. "Thank you, Captain! I'll do anything, anything at all!"

Ian couldn't help but smirk inwardly. It was obvious that it was impossible to free someone before taking them ashore, and Captain Homan hadn't even mentioned when the Breezing Gale would dock, or where the ransom would be paid.

It felt more like Homan was just giving himself an excuse to save face, while silencing the slaves and crew from questioning his actions.

"Alright, everyone back to work!" Captain Homan ordered, a satisfied smile on his face. He then turned to Ian.

"Mr. Tryst, how was your rest last night?"

"Very well, thank you for asking, Captain Homan."

"The sailing master says the winds for the next few days will be favorable. If all goes well, we should be able to rest in Heaven's Harbor by tomorrow evening."

"That sounds wonderful."

"Old Bill has prepared breakfast. I've had someone take it to your room. Mirtha—" Captain Homan called out to one of the smaller crew members from yesterday.

Mirtha, a young crewman, stepped forward.

"Your job for the next two days is to attend to Mr. Tryst. Treat him as you would treat me, understood?"

"Yes, Captain," Mirtha responded, his voice full of enthusiasm—perhaps from the easy task, or maybe for other reasons.

For the next two days, Ian didn't disturb Captain Homan or wander around the ship unnecessarily, avoiding any potential issues with others. He spent most of his time meditating in his cabin, occasionally heading to the crew's mess hall for meals.

His obsession with the extraordinary was growing stronger with each passing moment.

In those two days, the minor injuries he had sustained had completely healed. Within his spiritual realm, the second star on the curtain of destiny was beginning to shine. According to the feedback from the Tarot of Fate, in just a few days, he would manifest the second card.

If all went well, Ian could expect to derive a new card within the next five days.

By the afternoon of the fourteenth day, Ian stood on the stern deck, gazing into the distance. A vast, dark landmass was now visible on the horizon, and he could even make out the rolling hills.

Nearby, both the crew and the freed slaves who were temporarily working as sailors on the ship were buzzing with excitement. Of course, their reasons for celebrating were not the same.

Ian felt a mixture of emotions—excitement, wonder, and perhaps a touch of apprehension.

"Mr. Tryst, you can rest for now. We're still two or three hours away from port," Mirtha said quietly, standing behind Ian.

Mirtha, with his brown eyes and grey hair, looked like someone from the eastern mountain regions of Poderia. He was small, barely five feet tall, though he was already 17 years old—older than Ian by a few months.

Mirtha didn't have a last name, a common thing for many common folk. His father had been one of the first explorers to venture to Heaven's Island, a modest stonemason who eventually succumbed to the call of the sea. He disappeared during a routine storm, one of many such tales in this era.

The former sailmaster of the Breezing Gale had been a friend of Mirtha's father. A few years ago, he had found the young boy being bullied on the streets of Heaven's Harbor and had brought him aboard the ship.

The former sailmaster had also passed away the previous year, and Mirtha's life on board had been difficult. His frail body couldn't handle most of the ship's tasks, so he scraped by with the few tasks he could manage.

"Did you grow up on Heaven's Island?" Ian asked.

"Yes, sir. I was born in Heaven's Harbor. I joined the Breezing Gale two years ago."

"When we dock, would you be willing to guide me around for a bit? Of course, I'll pay you."

"I'd be glad to, sir! I know Heaven's Harbor and the surrounding areas very well. You don't need to pay, sir. You saved all of our lives."

Ian smiled but didn't reply.

Mirtha was right. By the afternoon, Heaven's Island was already clearly visible, but the Breezing Gale sailed on for another two hours before finally approaching the port as the night began to fall.

Ian stood at the stern, leaning on the railing, silently observing the legendary port that he had heard so much about.

Heaven's Harbor was enormous, with countless ships of all sizes: three-masted warships the size of small islands, to single-mast merchant vessels just a few meters long. Every type of ship one could imagine from the Miracle Sea was there.

The port was bustling with activity. Workers hauling cargo, animal-drawn carts, and human-powered carts moving goods. Towering wooden cranes were hoisting enormous sea creatures, swinging them high into the air.

In the distance, lights from the commercial and residential districts flickered on, casting a soft glow over the busy harbor as the night settled in.

Ian's lips curled into a faint smile as he stood there, lost in the wonder of it all. This was no different from the scenes from a fantastical game he had played—now, it had come to life.