Chapter 26: The First Crew Member

On the fourth floor of the tower, Ian completed his alchemy work for the day and noticed that Wawa was still asleep.

Wawa's head was about to outgrow the width of the door. Eventually, breaking through the walls would be the only way to get him out. Considering the tower's sturdy construction, Ian decided to wrap Wawa in burlap, cover him with enchanted fabric, and carry him to the observation deck at the top of the tower.

"You'll have to bear with this for now. Once you wake up, it's time for you to adjust to life at sea."

To ensure the enchanted fabric wouldn't blow away, Ian firmly secured it to the deck. With no telling when Wawa might wake up, Ian decided to stay in for the time being.

The afternoon passed as Ian alternated between meditation and alchemy. Without the need to channel his spiritual energy and mana into Wawa, his reserves felt abundant. Ian opted to produce more enchanted weapon oils in preparation for an upcoming auction.

By evening, the sea breeze had picked up, and the craftsmen had all gone home. Ian placed the dinner delivered from the Barley Tavern on the dining table of the fourth floor and was about to enjoy it when he sensed someone approaching the tower.

A carriage bearing the emblem of Breath of the Ocean stopped at the tower's entrance. Leah stood outside the door with a small, slender figure beside her.

"Myrta?"

The figure turned out to be none other than Myrta, the young crew member from the Windbreaker. Upon seeing Ian open the door, Myrta bowed enthusiastically. "Mr. Crester!"

Leah explained, her voice slightly muffled by the howling wind:

"He came looking for you at Breath of the Ocean, said he had a message to deliver. So, I brought him over."

Ian quickly ushered both Leah and Myrta into the fourth floor. The moment the door closed, the room became significantly quieter.

"Have you both eaten?" Ian asked.

"We have. Go ahead and chat," Leah replied as she seated herself to the side, giving Ian and Myrta some privacy.

Myrta, however, looked hesitant. Ian immediately realized the boy hadn't eaten.

"Sit down. Eat first," Ian instructed.

Obediently, Myrta sat, only to jump up almost immediately, pulling a gray envelope from his coat. He handed it to Ian.

"This is a letter from Captain Holman for you, Mr. Crester."

The envelope was addressed to Ian, and the sender was indeed Holman.

"Did the captain say anything else?"

"No, he just told me to deliver the letter."

Placing a plate of fish fillets and bread on a nearby table, Ian told Myrta to eat while he opened the letter.

Holman's letter contained two major pieces of news.

The first was that the Windbreaker had been requisitioned—along with all the ships under the Hansa Trading Company. They were set to depart tomorrow, loaded with supplies, to rendezvous with the Royal Niger Company fleet and head straight to the Lucia Archipelago.

The requisition came from the Podria Kingdom's Naval Department, aimed at transporting materials for the development of the New World.

Though the Windbreaker was listed under Hansa, it was Holman's private property. While he could have refused, the Navy's offer was irresistible. Now flying the Navy's flag, the Windbreaker had seen a significant crew overhaul, with many senior crew members replaced and less competent sailors dismissed—including Myrta.

Glancing at Myrta, who quietly ate his meal without mentioning this, Ian chose not to bring it up—yet.

The second piece of news was that Redhand Collier was dead.

Just yesterday, the Royal Niger Company announced they had killed Collier and captured his pirate ship, claiming the bounty with his severed head. According to their public statement, they encountered Collier's crew while hunting Blackbeard. They alleged that Collier had been Blackbeard's accomplice during the Storm Cape raid, though weather conditions had delayed their rendezvous at the time.

The rest of the letter consisted of polite pleasantries and trivial updates.

On the surface, the two events seemed unrelated, but to Ian, they signaled something significant: the race for the New World had officially begun. The major powers were moving their pieces onto the board.

Ian turned to Leah. "Leah, have you heard any recent news from the New World?"

Caught off guard, Leah replied, "Nothing new. But there is a related tidbit. The Podria Naval Department tried to recruit the Whaler Group to form a Fourth Fleet, but the offer was declined by their leader."

Ian raised an eyebrow. The Navy's appetite seemed insatiable. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of terms they had offered to recruit the Whaler Group.

The Whaler Group's fleet included one fourth-rate heavily armed sailing warship, four fifth-rate ships, and nine sixth-rate frigates. If not for the impracticality of first- to third-rate ships in long voyages, the group might have even possessed battle-class ships.

Despite losing a few frigates during their recent hunt of the supernatural terror blind whale, their core strength remained intact. In fact, they were not far behind the kingdom's undermanned and undersupplied Third Fleet.

Ian stroked his chin thoughtfully. The chaos brewing in Paradise Harbor was just the beginning. The major factions were no longer holding back. His pulse quickened at the thought—it might be the perfect time to fish in troubled waters and settle some scores.

"Myrta, you've left the Windbreaker, haven't you?" Ian asked once he saw that Myrta had nearly finished his meal.

Myrta froze for a moment.

When other sailors were dismissed from the Windbreaker, he had felt lucky to keep his position. Yet, today, Captain Holman had instructed him to deliver this letter—and informed him that he didn't need to return afterward.

Fear gripped Myrta. Once again, he was abandoned, with nowhere to go and no family to turn to. Clutching the single gold coin the captain had given him, he wandered aimlessly through Paradise Harbor, repeatedly losing his way until sunset, when he finally arrived at Breath of the Ocean.

Snapping back to the present, Myrta avoided Ian's gaze and muttered, "Y-yes."

In his life, only two people had treated him with kindness—his late mother and Mr. Crester. He could endure the scorn of others but not their disappointment.

Pretending not to notice Myrta's discomfort, Ian grinned. "That's fantastic news!"

Myrta blinked in surprise. "What?"

"I have a ship of my own and am in need of experienced sailors. Myrta, would you like to work for me?"

Ian had thought this through. Though physically weak, Myrta had two qualities rare among sailors. First, he was smart, with a knack for completing tasks efficiently—a trait Captain Holman often relied upon. Second, he lacked the vices common among sailors of the era: drinking, gambling, fighting, and poor hygiene. Likely due to his upbringing, Myrta was an exception.

Myrta's face lit up with joy but quickly darkened with hesitation. "But… I'm not strong, and I'm not good at much…"

Sensing his uncertainty, Ian reassured him with a smile. "Nobody's born knowing everything. If you have no objections, it's settled. The second floor is the storeroom; there are extra supplies there. Pick a room on the third floor to settle in. Go ahead."

Ian tossed him a set of keys. Myrta fumbled to catch them, staring at them in disbelief before clutching them tightly.

"Thank you, Mr. Crester. From now on, your will is my command!" Myrta stammered, clearly reciting words he'd picked up somewhere.

Ian chuckled and waved him off. "Go on now."