No answers

"Trade in weaponry is booming in Southern Regda. Huh!" Naph read the news headline as if it was a given.

'Confederation of Tarna's newspapers can pay attention to weapon trading but the government can't pay attention to its implications?' His inner commentary hinged to mock but he kept it restrained. He needed answers, not new quips.

Moving his eyes to the next article. Naph found out more on what has happened in Tarna for the couple of days before his hunt.

'Not much out of the ordinary from within.' He surmised.

His instincts took note of the fact that the newspapers had excellent informers. Only the ones getting informed were useless.

"Bastards have brains for marbles." He wanted to slam the paper down on the row of the shelf. He restrained himself and put it well in order for the next person who picks it up.

Naph had gone through many newspapers in the library cum lounge area. His knowledge on the current theatrics around the Confederation of Tarna, his home nation, included many hints from other nations and kingdom that had attacked Sevenren.

Naph from reading the newspaper had arrived at one thing. Whispering it to himself to make sure it sounded right, "Nations that favour the term 'Southern Regda' for the continent had chosen to enact bushes of theatrics. Taking note of that Kingdom of Streno played its own game."

It was an answer albeit an incomplete one. 'I need more knowledge than just that if I want to get help from any nation outside of this continent.' Naph's conclusion was a stark one for the reality unfolding in Sevenren.

He did not know what may have or may not have already happened there. He liked Sevenren just about enough that he may choose to save it. But Extea? He was a different being altogether for Naph.

Extea was someone to Naph whom he wanted to pay back as many times as he could. 'Bulwark's bounty did not help. Uh,' he ended his internal conversation.

Turning around, Naph figured he might as well find more of newspapers. "Even older ones will work," he had made decisions. Ones that could make it or break it for him in his journey later.

He reconsiders Shrik's advice, "Go north, huh."

'Every piece of newspaper had talked of how Southern Regda has worked tirelessly bridging gaps, or starting new trades. But none talk of the northern conti—' A realization hit him.

Facepalming himself he snuffled a scream with his mouth, a few gazes went over him. His body trembled at them, they felt a bit more heavier than the usual kind.

"Damn, its Southern Regda. How much of an idiot I am!" Naph cursed under breaths. Brisk walking out of the library, a few gazes followed along with his steps. He could tell their gaze had weight.

Naph couldn't tell why their gazes had weight more than the attackers that had attacked earlier. But he voiced out the realization while stepping out from one of the doors of the lounge area, "Southern Regda is a colony! Idiot!"

Remembering of how some adults once in The Outro Restro had talked of an expanding colony of the north. He understood what a colony was from their conversation, 'a slave on a leash.' But he knew other meanings of the same word as well.

Today, he understood what and why Southern Regda was named Southern Regda.

"The northern continent is called Regda. Of course the north most territories will get influenced more by that continent and then combine together someday if someone just pushed them along." Naph was furious at his own uneducated self.

Banging his leg against a pole by the wall in the corridor, he yelled with a stifle. "Idiot! Idiot! Should! Have! Went! To! A! School!" Each kick accompanied by a strike.

'Of course that explains why there is an entire conversation about whether this continent should be called Southen Regda or Tarna.' His mind ran along as he walked away from the pole. He wanted to vent his anger.

"Why would Shrik suggest going to the attackers themselves? DO I LOOK LIKE A NEGOTIATOR!" His voice raised with each word until it hit a tempo in the middle of the corridor.

A passing by running fast crewmate was caught unawares by the sudden screaming. This crewmember had a slight brown hair and a shaved face. He calmly walked towards Naph.

Naph on the other hand became actively aware of how suppressed the man's anger was.

As the crewmember came in close he raised his arms to placate the passenger, Naph.

Both in their own confusion waited for the other to start. A moment passé but the crewmember felt that he needed to end this impasse quickly, so he began, "Please sir, trust us. We will be able to deal with this fourth sudden wave of caestre that has attacked the ferry. We will raise alarms as needed. I have to go to help along the rear-left flank."

The crewmember waited for a bit. A moment of understanding passed over Naph and he nodded.

As Naph watched the crewmember walk away, he placed a hand on the wall of the corridor feeling for the little shocks of attacks.

"I am such a fool." Naph told himself.

Realising where his current battles were he began a march to the under section where the rides, vehicles and wagons were stored.

Naph's hunch may have been earlier dampened by his obliviousness he let himself be coated with.

As he walked into the lower deck he saw Chef Gusti prepping up spears made from bones and vegetables. Gusti looked at the boy and nodded as well smiling to placate him.

Naph smiled back and affirmed to his response with his own nod.

He saw the crewmembers running past him and all over the middle deck and lower deck. All arriving closer to the rear-left flank of the ferry.

He had listened to the announcement from the pipes thrice by now. The previous wave was dealt with while a new one arrived. On the same rear-left flank, the announcer meanwhile had switched time to time between calling the same spot as 'back-left flank' or the 'rear-left flank'.

"Maybe the announcer is young in their career." Naph noted.

But there was one more oddity he noticed. No crewmember climbed into the under section or also called as the cargo hold, but what was more weirder was nobody climbed out of the cargo hold.

'Why would they leave it as it is? What if there is a leak there?' Naph considered.

He chose to stick around the area where the crewmembers were throwing down spears at the tentacle caestre swarm. His insatiable thirst to know the reason was answered soon enough.

A crewmember in a blue vest having exhausted howling down spears at the caestre asked one of his crewmates. "Tell me why can't we just go and check the cargo hold?"

The crewmate looked horrified, and paled. He whispered under a breath and Naph leaned in to listen, "Do you not know? Captain forbade people! The rumour about Anapahol and Bulwark! He does not want a fight to break out. And even if we did, what are we going to do? The best position to deal with something on the rear-left flank is still where we are."

The crewmate was logical and the crewmember realized it as well as Naph did.

'Even if there is a rumour that could be false, the caestre have chosen to attack mostly from one direction and the cargo hold's only opening is reachable even from the lower deck with those spears.' His inference on the situation was the same as the one captain of the ship intended.

Anaphol still didn't quite liked that the name switch up is so bad. He whispered while he descended back into the cargo hold, "My name's not Anapahol. Its Anaphol."

He stepped out of the flight of stairs and spotted a few caestre of the tentacle swarm have made in from the opening. Yet, he saw a few spears coming down over the opening to the cargo hold. Accepting the task that has been left to him, Naph walked forward.

He began with a simple intent driven thought invoked 'cata'.

All the swarm tentacle caestre in sight were his target. He remembered the last two times he had used it, the first one coughed until they died and flew away a bit later. The other two flew away but they were clutched together, did they cough or not was not clear but they were terrified of moving irrespectively.

The caestre in sight, every single tentacle became silent. Suddenly they stiffened and dragged backwards to the opening of the cargo hold.

"Huh, so it's supposed to mainly stiffen someone up and drag them away. But drag them where and how far?" Naph concluded his result on the cata usage on the caestre.

A single look was enough for the clearing of a large mass. The spears that flashed in front of the cargo hold's opening started skewering the dragged away tentacles as well.

"You're welcome," Naph said, bowing to the flashes of spears on the cargo hold's opening.

It was his time to help in clearing up the mess he had brought aboard.