Chapter 224: Chapter 228: The Great Pirate Entering the City-State
The steam-powered walking machine stopped in front of the wharf, and Fenna stood on the casing of this spider-like machine, looking up at the ship in front of her that was hailed as the “unsinkable battleship.”
Unsinkable, but not invincible—the ship might truly be difficult to sink, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be battered extensively.
It was evident to the naked eye that the Sea Mist had been through a fierce battle… Of course, if one were to recall its unscathed condition as seen from the great clock tower, one might say this ironclad was utterly thrashed—Fenna didn’t know much about ships, but she knew it was incredible for a ship in this condition to float smoothly to the port.
This was the condition of the Sea Mist after using its strong “unsinkable” ability to self-repair for a full day and night.
Fenna’s mind drifted back to the Homeloss, to the curse-like connection she had with Captain Duncan, and it gave her a headache. Rubbing her forehead, she jumped down from the steam walker and saw a long gangplank extended from the side of the nearby Sea Mist, with a few figures appearing on it.
Leading them was a man in a dignified captain’s uniform, with slightly curled black hair, sporting an eyepatch, a one-eyed man whose face bore a resemblance to Duncan Ebnomal. However, compared to the oppressive Ghost Ship Captain, the Tirian Captain walking toward the wharf looked quite weary.
Behind this notorious pirate captain were several followers, their skin pale and their facial expressions like frozen plaster, subtly carrying a certain non-human aura—yet overall, they were not as terrifying as often described in many horror stories.
Fenna had heard plenty of rumors about the Sea Mist—since this ship still belonged, to some extent, to “human civilization,” the stories about it were naturally a bit richer and more detailed than those about the Homeloss. Those tales often mentioned Tirian Abnormal’s undead sailors.
Legend had it that these sailors had initially accompanied Tirian when he fled Frost, and some were even century-old veterans formerly from the Homeloss fleet. They, like their captain, were affected by Subspace—the curse that lingered over members of the Ebnomal family, which had seeped into their followers, turning them into undying undead.
They could not die in the real dimension, nor could they enjoy the warmth of the real world like living people. They were unable to feel a moment’s peace in the world of the living, yet could not step through the door of the rester belonging to the god of death, Bartok.
In other rumors, these undead sailors were said to have long lost any attachment to the mortal world or their former kin, bound only by some ancient and powerful oaths to eternally serve their master—the eldest of the Ebnomal family.
Fenna watched these figures intently as they stepped onto the land of Plunder City-State and walked toward her under Tirian’s lead.
Undead… Strictly speaking, they were now the children of the god of death Bartok, and since Bartok was among the pantheon of regular gods, these undead sailors were permitted to set foot on the City-State’s land. However, that did not mean ordinary people could accept these unnerving “former kin” so easily. Considering these undead sailors’ deep ties to the Ebnomal family’s “curse,” Fenna needed to keep a close eye on them.
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But… The Plunder that had been thoroughly torched by the Homeloss, compared to these cursed immortals before her, how different could they be, really?
Fenna’s mind couldn’t help but raise this deeply troubling question. As she pondered, the one-eyed pirate captain had already approached her.
“Greetings, Judge,” said Tirian, removing his captain’s hat and slightly bowing in salute. He was surprised by Fenna’s youth and her tall stature but showed no sign of it, his manners impeccable, not at all like the fearsome pirate he was reputed to be, but rather like a navy commander still loyal to a City-State, “Thank you for personally welcoming us.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Captain Tirian,” Fenna quickly focused, nodding to the man in his thirties before her—she subconsciously compared him to the “Captain Duncan” she had met, finding him not as tall as his father, but also lacking some of his oppressive majesty, “Your response to Plunder’s call for help alone warrants a personal reception.”
“But, we ultimately didn’t serve any useful purpose.” Tirian’s face twisted into a wry expression, then, instinctively, he looked around the port as if searching for something.
“What are you looking for?” Fenna vaguely guessed what he was doing, but asked anyway.
“Forgive me for being forward, but did you receive the message we sent before docking?” Tirian said, nervously scanning the surroundings, “We encountered the Homeloss on our way, and although we did our best to intercept, that ship still…”
“Your father was here,” Fenna sighed, “He left yesterday.”
Upon hearing this, the great pirate Captain Tirian across from her turned as still as a stone sculpture, and even the frozen stiff faces of his followers behind him shivered.
“I… I didn’t catch that,” Tirian reacted after a few seconds, his face ghostly as he looked at the young Judge before him, “Judge, you said my father was here yesterday…”
He deliberately emphasized the word “father” as if he feared that Fenna was joking about this critical issue.
“The situation is complicated, we need to explain it well,” Fenna sighed again, “The ‘Homeloss’ has indeed appeared, but the situation is completely different from what we initially described in the letter sent to you. The Plunder City-State just experienced a significant… incident. Please follow me, Bishop Valentin is already waiting in the cathedral. We desperately need all sorts of information, and you must have countless questions that need answers.”
Tirian felt as though all the plans he had conceived on the road had been scrambled. He almost hazily followed Fenna’s steps, heading towards the steam-powered walkers from the cathedral—a black steam carriage specially prepared for guests was already parked by the roadside, with the Deep Sea Church’s emblem hanging on it.
“…Honestly, I thought you guys would have me stop at the docks,” Tirian perhaps intended to break the somewhat awkward atmosphere, or perhaps to alleviate some inexplicable pressure (somehow, he always felt a vague pressure whenever he saw Fenna) and suddenly said in a self-deprecating tone, “After all, under normal circumstances, the City-State authorities would either refuse a pirate ashore or simply prepare a noose for the pirate.”
“This is not Frost—the northern City-States’ warrants for the ‘Sea Mist’ cannot reach over the head of Plunder, unless one day you do something ‘big’ and get a combined pursuit from the entire Endless Sea,” Fenna casually said. “But before that, to Plunder, you are just a captain who is keen to offer help, and…”
While speaking, she turned her head back to look at the ‘Sea Mist,’ which, despite being battered, still exuded a strong aura.
“And honestly, even in the northern seas, would any City-State really put a noose around your neck when you dock?”
Tirian thought for a moment and then laughed.
“When I land, the City-State Guards politely call me the ‘owner of Sea Mist Venture Company’ and portray my visit as a commercial interaction between the City-State and the Mist Fleet when questions arise—You know what, pirates have this proverb: The lowest level warrant disturbs little pirates, the City-State level warrant makes great pirates sit on pins and needles, and the highest level warrant… is used by the concerned party to wipe tables and swords.”
The great pirate paused slightly and then said mildly, “Besides Frost, I can step onto the land of any northern City-State with tranquility.”
Fenna raised her eyebrows: “Besides Frost?”
“…Her Majesty Lei Nora ordered me to leave Frost,” Tirian’s face lost its smile, “She has not rescinded that order yet.”
Fenna glanced at him, noticing that the expression on this great pirate’s face had become unusually serious.
She said nothing more but stopped at the junction, pointing to the guest carriage beside: “Please get on, Captain Tirian.”
Then, she turned and jumped onto one of the steam walkers, standing on top of it as imposingly as usual.
Tirian, with a few of his followers, turned and got into the carriage.
The moment the car door closed, he exhaled deeply.
“Captain,” a follower noticed his boss’s reaction and couldn’t help but look over curiously, “Are you alright? I felt you were a bit… tense just now. You never seemed so tight when dealing with other renowned captains or City-State officials.”
“I don’t know why, but I always feel a certain… indescribable pressure when talking to that young Judge,” Tirian didn’t hide his feelings in front of his most trusted subordinates, “This feeling is completely different from the usual dealings with other City-State officials, and even when we once barely crossed paths with the traveling Death Chapel, I’ve never felt this strange pressure.”
“Really?” The follower wrinkled his brows in confusion, “I didn’t feel it… though that Judge did look quite formidable…”
“It’s not that kind of pressure,” Tirian shook his head, “Enough, let’s not discuss it further. High Saints’ powers are very strong, she can hear you speaking.”
Upon hearing this, the follower immediately shut his mouth nervously.
Tirian somewhat relaxed and looked out at the gradually moving landscape of Plunder with a complex expression.
In his childhood, he and Lukecia had briefly stayed in this City-State, but that was a century ago. Today’s jewel of the sea… was to him completely unfamiliar territory.