Chapter 44: A Bountiful Harvest

"Captain, aren't we taking the spoils?" Miltar asked, a little confused.

"The biggest prize was that ship, and it's already destroyed. We don't have enough people to salvage anything. It's not worth the effort," Ian replied casually.

Miltar stood there, mouth slightly agape, watching the wreckage of the Golden Sail drift further away. Victory had felt sweet, but without any spoils, the satisfaction was quickly fading. After spending so much time aboard merchant ships, he'd come to see people as commodities, and things like barrels of wine, fresh water, sails, and ropes were still somewhat useful.

As evening approached, Ian finally spotted another ship—the Swordfish. The Swordfish had used its remaining aft sail to turn and was slowly heading in the direction of Paradise Island. It wasn't far, but their progress was agonizingly slow.

The moment Leviathan appeared, the Swordfish dropped all its sails. Several sailors stood on deck, wildly signaling with flags.

Neither Ian nor Miltar understood flag signals, so Ian looked toward Lia.

Lia observed through the spyglass and reported, "They're surrendering. They've given up resistance. Don't fire."

The captain of the Swordfish, knowing that the strange ship nearby had few crew members, decided to take extra precautions to alleviate any fears. Not only did he lower the sails, but he also turned all the cannon barrels inward, signaling to his crew to abandon their weapons and stand on the deck.

Ian couldn't help but laugh at the Swordfish captain's frantic gestures. The man's will to survive was certainly strong!

From start to finish, the Swordfish had fired a single round of cannonballs from afar, then kept fleeing.

"Approach slowly. Load the cannons with light buckshot. If anything goes wrong, fire immediately!" Ian ordered, preparing to board with Miltar while Lia stayed on Leviathan to maintain a watch.

Buckshot was a type of ammunition made from thin, cylindrical tin cans filled with 20 to 200 iron pellets, each ranging from 10 to 50 millimeters in diameter. Upon firing, the intense pressure difference caused the tin casing to rupture, sending the pellets flying in a wide, circular pattern. A single round of light buckshot could contain over a hundred pellets, making its range shorter but its killing radius much larger.

With Leviathan's eight alchemical cannons ready to fire, they could easily reduce the Swordfish to a sieve. The overlapping fire zones would make no distinction between low-tier transcendent individuals and regular sailors.

After circling the Swordfish twice to confirm there was no resistance, Leviathan began to close in.

As the two ships drew nearer, the captain of the Swordfish finally got a good look at the silvery-gray sail of Leviathan, and the three unmistakably powerful transcendent figures on its main deck. The peculiar long-barreled cannons, neatly arranged along the centerline of the ship, kept their barrels locked on the Swordfish, no matter how the ship moved.

The captain of the Swordfish felt a chill run down his spine as he was locked in the crosshairs of the powerful cannons, a strong sense of danger flooding his senses.

Just as the two ships were about 200 meters apart, two "giant serpents" shot from the bow of Leviathan, their massive heads snapping as they rushed toward the Swordfish. With a sharp "snap," they grabbed hold of the Swordfish and began pulling it toward Leviathan.

The sudden, powerful tug caused the Swordfish to lurch violently, throwing crew members off balance and sending them tumbling across the deck.

The captain of the Swordfish felt all his thoughts vanish as he struggled to keep his footing. As the chaotic scene unfolded, he finally realized what was happening: the "giant serpents" were actually two massive anchors, each attached to long chains, hauling his ship toward Leviathan.

With a loud "thud," the two ships collided, their sides meeting with a sharp impact.

Miltar, holding the custom-made alchemical handgun Ian had given him, and with two loaded short pistols strapped to his waist, was the first to leap over the rail.

He landed on the main deck, taking cover behind a cannon mount, and aimed his gun at the startled crew.

Ian, having already activated his Combat Shielding, swung his own alchemical firearm over his shoulder and followed Miltar onto the deck.

His sharp eyes scanned the crowd. The somewhat pudgy captain of the Swordfish stood at the front, ready to speak, but Ian raised a hand, silencing him with a cold, "To avoid any misunderstandings, I suggest you don't resist."

With a wave of his left hand, Ian summoned an animated rope that shot forward, weaving through the crew and binding their hands with swift precision. Within moments, every sailor, except the captain, was tied up.

"I request ransom—" the captain of the Swordfish stepped forward, unable to hold back his desperation. He tried to sound calm, but his voice wavered.

At that moment, Wah Wah, with its massive spiritual presence, began scanning the Swordfish, inside and out. Once it signaled that the area was secure, Ian took a step forward.

"Start by telling me about yourselves, and about the ship you were just on."

The captain of the Swordfish had been shaken by Wah Wah's spiritual presence and was momentarily flustered. He couldn't tell where the spiritual pressure was coming from, but he knew it originated from the ship ahead.

"I'm Sam, captain of the Swordfish. The ship used to belong to the Hanseatic Trading Company but was recently acquired by the Royal Niger Company..."

It was true that both the Swordfish and the Golden Sail had been under the Royal Niger Company's ownership. They were returning from Paradise Island to Storm Cape, planning to ship supplies to the Lucia Islands, with resupply stops at Paradise Island and other midway islands.

Pirating the Leviathan had been the idea of the Golden Sail's captain. Since the Golden Sail was the lead ship in their small fleet, the Swordfish had to follow his orders—though Sam claimed he had been forced into it. Of course, this was Sam's attempt to deflect blame.

Ian stroked his chin, suddenly asking, "How do you plan to pay the ransom? Just for yourself? What about your ship and crew?"

The sailors shifted uneasily at the mention of ransom, but there was no real excitement in their expressions—they didn't seem to have much hope of being saved.

Sam, sensing that ransom might be possible, spoke with a hint of urgency, "I'll pay for myself, and if the price is right, I'll also pay for the ship! I have friends who can help. We can sign a contract with the Transcendent Professionals Guild. I admit I was the one who initiated the attack. I'll take responsibility and won't seek revenge afterward."

Though his words were somewhat convincing, Ian wasn't worried about revenge. Instead, he was weighing the feasibility of towing the Swordfish back.

The Swordfish was 34 meters long—9 meters longer than Leviathan, nearing the standard size of a Grade 6 vessel. Even with some damage, it could easily fetch thousands of gold coins.

Since they were returning, there wasn't much cargo, but it still had some value. Plus, there was a large crew aboard. According to the usual rules of the sea, if no one paid the ransom, Ian could simply sell them.

Add in the ransom for the captain, and the total could be quite lucrative. Ian even found himself regretting sinking the Golden Sail earlier.

The only real problem was angering the Royal Niger Company. They were used to bullying others and didn't care who had fired first. What mattered was their own interests being harmed, especially when it interfered with their plans for the New World.

A sly smile tugged at Ian's lips: "But I don't care. After all, you're just another one of my prey."