CHAPTER 449: CHAPTER 352: DEATH KNIGHT, FREAK CREW MEMBERS

"Quick, quick, quick! Count up all the hardtack, every last piece, and load it onto the ship! What? The ones with weevils? Of course, we take them! Whether they have weevils or black-headed maggots, we take them all; it won’t kill anyone. Time is money! No time for nitpicking now. If we delay until afternoon, we might not even have tree bark to eat. Time and money wait for no one!"

"Spare sails, ropes, tar, kegs of gunpowder... check everything once more! If there’s a mistake, I’ll whip your asses with a cat-o’-nine-tails drenched in saltwater!"

"And don’t forget to clean my cannons; we’re going to need them one hundred percent in the Celestial Sphere Circulation! Right, I’m short a few Powder Monkeys. Fixed salary, a pound a month. Anyone interested, come immediately! We set sail at three in the afternoon, sharp. Don’t be late! An opportunity to make a fortune with Captain Barry doesn’t come around often. Miss it, and you’ll regret it for life!"

...

The roaring voices of one Captain after another echoed throughout every major and minor port in the Bantaan Archipelago.

The colonies’ merchant ships, whaling ships, adventure ships, Privateer Ships, pirate ships, warships... all were boiling with excitement, gearing up for a major endeavor.

Sailors and even ordinary residents of the ports, upon hearing of the New Continent and the opportunity to strike it rich, scrambled aboard the sailing ships one after another, afraid to be left behind in this rush.

Among them were no shortage of children barely twelve or thirteen years old.

They couldn’t handle the heaviest work; typically, during battles, they were responsible for moving gunpowder from below deck, hence they were called "Powder Monkeys," the lowest rank among the crew.

Many sailors, especially those from the warships with the harshest living conditions, had climbed their way up from being Powder Monkeys.

No one thought there was anything wrong with recruiting a bunch of children onto a ship.

Because this was the great Great Nautical Age, a period of radical changes sweeping the whole world!

Every person was fervently yearning for power and wealth; everyone was grasping for all useful resources, knowledge, and skills, adapting quickly to this rapidly changing, unfamiliar world.

With the right opportunity, even a pig could fly.

An impoverished lad, with not a penny to his name, might be an ordinary, down-and-out sailor today and potentially become a Transcendent tomorrow—a Captain, a General, even a Governor of the Colonies.

This was the first time in over a thousand years of the Silver Era that a crack wide enough for all to take advantage of had appeared in the Continent’s long-solidified social hierarchy. Missing this opportunity would bring a lifetime of regret.

While others were still frantically recruiting sailors, gathering supplies, racking their brains for Nautical Charts, and even banding together with friends for joint ventures, The Golden Deer, a Sacred Relics Warship that had long been prepared, had already set sail.

"Weigh anchor! The wind on the Sapphire Sea is from the northeast, Level Five. We’re running with a port quartering wind. Sail Master, set all sails!"

One by one, the ship’s white rigging lines tightened and slackened. Blessed by humanity’s collective subconscious, all the pristine white sails unfurled, billowed full by the perfectly timed sea breeze, carrying them southwards.

"The world’s fastest ship," its golden hull faintly glowed with Divine Light, appearing much like a slowly rising, brilliant morning sun. In the blink of an eye, it vanished at the horizon where sky and sea converge.

Byron, the Storm Admiral, was personally at the helm. His Middle Sequence level Riding skill allowed him to command the sailing ship as effortlessly as his own limbs, easily pushing this Sacred Relics Warship to its limits.

In this state where sky, sea, ship, and sails all breathed as one, Byron felt that he was just a paper-thin barrier away from the next realm, Divine Sight. At any moment, he could leap into an even more spectacular vista of swordsmanship.

This voyage to conquer the Celestial Orbital Belt came three months after the last trip to Silvergold Island for the "Pirate’s Treasure Chest" Promotion Ceremony.

Being back at sea made Byron feel especially invigorated. Especially when he glanced over the core crew on deck, even with his humility, a strong sense of confidence inevitably welled up within him.

The key members of the Pirate Kings are only Third or Fourth Order; I’m another step closer to that goal.

Violet, after inventing the "rifled bullet," had her Spirituality elevated to the Third Order Boundary Point; the Deep Sea Origin Ceremony was just one Curse Seal away. One of the most important tasks of this voyage was to find the best choice for her: engraving the sixth Curse Seal, [Atlas], which could support the Celestial Sphere.

His cousin, "Chameleon" Jacqueline, relying on the forbidden knowledge "Shadow Robe," had advanced to Third Order, and her main class as a Singer was also not far from promotion. The key ceremony required composing a catchy song that achieved a certain level of popularity. Byron, his mind full of knowledge, had already given her an excellent suggestion.

Well, it definitely wouldn’t be... "Thrust, thrust, thrust."

「Elsewhere.」

SIZZLE... SIZZLE...

[Blood Red Whiskey] Alfred and [Iron Wall] Bruh, who had finally accepted the Red Dragon Lizard bloodline, were preparing lunch for everyone—one as the chef, the other as the stove.

Both these Third Order individuals had awakened the Flow State, easily taming the sudden surge of power within them. Especially Bruh; flames flickered from his hands, his face was ruddy, his back no longer ached, and his legs were no longer sore. It seemed he had finally shaken off the specter of "EH... HISS... HISS..." and scored a point back against his new bride. Although he acquired the "Greedy for Fame" side effect, meaning he would henceforth value his reputation as a Guardian Knight above his own life, it was entirely worthwhile.