Chapter 47: In the Shadows of the Sun

Ian knew that his motives weren't as noble as they seemed. Leya, fragile yet strong, didn't need comforting from anyone.

He gently shifted the topic. "Is the cursed sorcerer Avery still alive?"

Leya answered without hesitation, "He should still be alive. His name is still on the pirate bounty board."

Ian pressed on. "Are you sure he's the one you're after?"

Leya paused for a moment, then nodded. "I can't be certain. I have no proof, and Avery never admitted it. But if it was him, he never denied it either."

She was only 19 then, consumed by hatred, and in retrospect, she realized how reckless she had been.

Ian looked up at the sky and the moon. "Don't worry. Once we finish our current task, we'll head south and look for him. If we find him, I'll pin him down and let you get the answers you need."

Leya gave a small smile, no longer doubting Ian's abilities.

"It's late. Get some rest," Ian added. "Miltar, if anything comes up, wake me."

Miltar, who had been silently listening, immediately responded, "Understood, Captain."

The lights of Stormport shimmered like stars in the night. Even late at night, the bustling commercial street remained alive with energy.

At the entrance of the harbor stood the Governing Hall, brightly lit. Under the glow of luxurious whale-oil lamps, guards patrolled in steady formation, keeping a tight grip on the diverse and chaotic dock area.

"Has there been any response from the Earl of Highlands?" The governor, Tuarre, with black-red skin, glanced at his assistant with a sly look.

His murky triangular eyes, framed by gold-rimmed glasses, looked unsettling. The assistant felt a shiver run down his spine as the cold, cruel gaze from behind the glasses fixed on him.

Although Tuarre had not been officially appointed, he was directly assigned by the Stormpeak governor, and crossing him was not an option.

The assistant bowed deeply. "Governor, the Earl has responded. He said his son is too young and isn't considering marriage for now."

Tuarre scoffed in disdain. "Ungrateful!" He returned to his desk and continued flipping through the noble roster.

Rebecca Calvin was too much of an eyesore. Although the prince didn't mind, his subordinates needed to help him clear the way. It would be best to marry her off to some destitute noble, far away, and quietly let her die in some forgotten corner. Then, the matter would fade from everyone's memory.

It was foolish of the woman to have been saved by the Church of Truth and Justice. If she had joined them as a nun, no one would have been able to touch her. The Church of Truth and Justice, as the leading religion, even the royal family had to step back before them.

"That bunch of nobles from the river bend have always clashed with the Calvins. Send a letter to them. No, you go personally. Age doesn't matter. Get this done by the end of the month. Do you hear me?"

The sharp voice made the assistant involuntarily shiver. "Yes, yes, I'll get on it right away, Governor."

The assistant awkwardly withdrew from the room, grumbling inwardly.

Due to the system, the royal family had always been domineering, keeping the nobles in check. This latest move had already stirred up huge controversy within the noble circles, and expecting them to clean up after this mess was probably asking too much. Before the dust settled from the New World conflict, not everyone would be willing to listen to the Second Prince.

"You've done enough already, Sir Roland," a deep voice echoed through the cross-shaped ear chamber.

"I've actually done nothing," the knight, clad in armor, with his helmet resting on a nearby bench, spoke in a low, somewhat oppressed tone. "All I could do was watch it all unfold."

He had been silent for so long, only now releasing the turmoil inside him.

A middle-aged knight in a long robe, with a thick beard and hair, stepped up beside him, pointing to the emblem on the wall.

"Roland, look up at the Holy Seal and tell me, hasn't your faith wavered?"

Roland lowered his head, his expression indifferent. "Ian once told me, 'Justice is like the sun, but it doesn't shine on everyone.' I laughed and told him, 'Then I'll be the embodiment of justice, illuminating every corner.' But he only smiled at me, without saying a word."

Now, Roland understood that look of pity. It was a sorrow for two childhood friends, once inseparable, now walking separate paths that would never cross again.

Roland finally understood why Ian had said he could never be a true believer like him.

Roland looked up at his troubled teacher. "Not shining on everyone, and not wanting to shine on them, are two very different things. Why is it that what you taught me, and what you do, are completely different?"

The middle-aged knight sighed. "Roland, none of us are wrong. You just don't understand the teachings deeply enough. Justice isn't just about protecting the weak or upholding fairness. Justice is vast. For the greater good, even the pursuit of justice with purpose is still justice."

Roland smirked, his voice tinged with self-mockery. "So, Calvin is not part of the greater good? I guess my concept of justice is pretty shallow then!"

He stood up, grabbed his helmet, bowed to his teacher, and turned to leave the chamber.

"I will only follow the justice that I understand." His firm voice echoed as he walked out.

The sun hung high in the sky, a golden-red orb casting its light over the Swordfish. Crew members took turns on deck to catch some air, use the bathroom, and grab a half slice of black bread with a small cup of diluted rum.

Everyone huddled together, uneasy and obedient, their eyes constantly darting toward the broken mast, fear etched on their faces.

A raven with scarlet eyes stood atop the shattered mast. Beneath it, three corpses hung, old and shriveled, their mouths agape in terror, as if they had died in the midst of intense fear.

It wasn't realistic to expect these sailors, who often played at being pirates, to always follow orders. There were always some idiots who thought they could be clever and pull off some small stunt.

But the first display of power from the cursed raven was enough to shock them all. The shrill screams, the rapidly aging bodies, and the soul-chilling tremors left deep marks on their memories, appearing in their nightmares countless times, becoming an inescapable nightmare for the rest of their lives.

Ian and the others stood on the aft platform of Leviathan, munching on fruit while watching the scene from afar.

Ian was a little stunned by what he saw from Bitris. He hadn't expected the raven's combat abilities to be so formidable. Three strong sailors had been completely helpless against it, unable to resist in the slightest.

After devouring the three men, Bitris had grown stronger both mentally and physically. Killing made it stronger. It sounded terrifying, and it was better not to let others know about it.

Leya looked at Ian with concern. The sight of the raven killing the sailors was so bloody and evil. Would such a familiar spirit really not affect or corrupt its master's soul?

Miltar, munching on a cucumber, had no such worries. In his mind, the captain was wise and powerful, and whatever he did surely had a deeper logic that he could not understand.

Ian returned Leya's gaze with a reassuring look. He pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. "Let's rest for a bit longer. We'll pick up the pace this afternoon and aim to reach Stormpeak by the 13th."

He tossed the watch to Leya. "Here. Replace that old relic of yours."