Translator: Pai_

On the way back, Turan sat on the boat and carefully observed the mysterious treasure he had newly acquired.

Its size was just right to fit in the palm of his hand.

The edges were rounded, and the front and back were relatively flat, making its overall shape somewhat similar to the compass he carried.

A notable feature was the small button on one side, which made a clicking sound and opened the lid when pressed.

The inside was completely empty, giving no clue as to its purpose, but it likely had some function nonetheless.

Fortunately, it wasn’t necessary to hold this item by hand to use it.

As long as it was in one’s possession, say, tucked into a pocket, it could exert its abilities at any time.

Closing his eyes, Turan sensed the countless presences moving beneath the sea.

A group of tiny sparks, perhaps numbering in the hundreds. A slightly larger cluster of lights numbering in the tens. And then, larger lights moving separately from one another...

His detection range was typically around a dozen meters, but when he focused, it could extend to several dozen meters, even reaching up to a hundred or more.

After practicing his detection ability several times, Turan pulled out his compass again, confirmed his direction, and set off eastward.

He sailed the boat for about an hour.

When he used the detection magic Human Detection for the fifth time, he finally caught a faint trace of human scent in the distance.

“Got it.”

Without making a sound, he steered his small boat to dock alongside the Blue Marlin and jumped directly onto the deck. The sailor on duty, who had been watching, screamed at the sight of him.

“Ack! A mon—no, it’s Sir Knight? We thought you were staying on the island..."

“I had some business to take care of.”

The sailor, much like Armani, had a very faint flame residing in his heart, but everything else about him was entirely ashen.

Was it due to the difference in their races? Or perhaps because that one was royalty and thus different in some way?

Receiving a polite salute, Turan returned to the cramped cabin and lay down on the bed.

His head felt unusually heavy, likely due to the sheer number of things he had to think about.

*

The next day, Turan slept in until the sun was high in the sky. He was awakened by a peculiar smell.

What stirred him from his deep slumber was the strong scent of blood.

'What's this?'

This wasn’t the middle of the ocean, so why would blood suddenly be spilled on an island where many trade ships were anchored?

When he went up to the deck, he quickly found the answer.

“Ugh...”

“Damn, it hurts like hell, get me some medicine!”

Sailors were groaning as they bled profusely from their backs.

Nearby, the bosun, Renak, was chewing on some unknown herb, swinging a bloodstained whip through the air a few times to make a cracking sound.

“Alright, everyone, shout it out! Lateness!”

“Is forbidden!”

“Defiance!”

“Means death!”

The sailors, with grim expressions, responded to Renak’s words as if reciting a refrain.

“What on earth is going on here?”

“Oh, you’re awake? We’re punishing the guys who came back late after partying last night.”

The first mate, Osban, who had been watching the whipping with an indifferent expression, explained.

Come to think of it, the captain had mentioned something along those lines before Turan left yesterday, but he hadn’t thought they’d actually resort to whipping just for coming back late.

Turan stared at the blood-streaked deck for a long moment before shaking his head.

Someone could easily die at this rate, but stepping in to break their rules wouldn’t be wise either.

They had their own regulations, after all. And more importantly, the sailors themselves had seemed to agree to this punishment the previous day.

Instead, Turan focused his vision, enhanced by the Sacred Relic, to observe how the other sailors appeared.

There weren’t many major differences, but those who had been whipped had areas where their blue flames had turned red and scattered slightly.

“What about the captain?”

“He’s gone ashore. Said he’s looking for someone to buy the ship.”

“I see.”

As the owner of the ship, Turan headed to the island, leaving behind the sailors being whipped, to check on the progress of events.

“Woohoo! Hahaha!”

“Uweeek-”

“You bastard! Do you think this is a toilet?!”

Miguel Island was a place that thrived on the trade ships docking there for supplies during their journeys.

Naturally, many of the people visible on the streets were sailors from the ships anchored at the harbor.

Even in broad daylight, there were drunken men with unfocused eyes shouting nonsense, some vomiting, and others shamelessly urinating on the street...

It almost made Turan think that, at least on the mainland, they had maintained a minimum level of decency.

Walking past such sailors, he made his way toward the center of the island, where a relatively tidy and large building came into view.

A high-class tavern, exclusive to captains.

As he approached, a burly doorman guarding the entrance extended his hand with a look of disbelief.

“Hey, this isn’t a place for brats like you. If you miss your mommy’s milk, go find one of the whores over there.”

Instead of replying, Turan lightly snapped his fingers, igniting a small flame. The doorman’s face turned pale.

Without hesitation, Turan walked past the now-bowing man and entered the tavern.

“Is that really true?”

“I’m telling you, at least tens of thousands of people fled from there. It’s likely to remain a land of death for some time.”

Captain Pires was seated in one corner of the tavern, engrossed in conversation with another captain who seemed to be about his age.

Noticing Turan’s approach, Pires was startled and quickly bowed his head.

"Sir Turan."

“Good morning.”

“Well, it’s a bit late for morning… Ah, this here is Captain Samudel of the Winter Raven. Unlike me, he is both the captain and owner of his ship, and he’s the one who plans to buy your ship.”

“Pleased to meet you, Sir Turan."

Captain Samudel was a middle-aged man wearing a pointed tricorn hat. Unlike Pires, he had both eyes intact, but his left hand had been replaced with a hook.

Was having a physical impairment a qualification for becoming a captain?

Or perhaps working as a sailor long enough to become a captain inevitably led to injuries like these.

“Nice to meet you. So, what’s the price?”

“We agreed on one thousand Zahar gold coins for the ship and all the miscellaneous items inside it.”

Having never seen a Zahar gold coin, Turan couldn’t be certain whether this was a fair price. However, since he had promised Pires a share of the profits, it was unlikely to have been sold for a ridiculously low amount.

Turan nodded and naturally took a seat.

"Where are you coming from, Samudel?”

“I’m coming from the Enril Desert. My destination is Abacha, so you could say my route is the exact opposite of his. Coincidentally, I was planning to purchase another ship in Abacha, so I’m glad I found one at a good price.”

“Oh.”

Samudel, perhaps having heard a bit about Turan from Pires, didn’t underestimate him for his youth and answered with sincerity.

After sharing light conversation for a few minutes, nibbling on the salty ham and dates placed on the table, Turan brought up the real matter at hand.

“Would it be possible to purchase something like a magic artifact? Or even a small item of equivalent value would be fine.”

Seeing Samudel’s puzzled expression, Turan explained his situation.

He was currently traveling alone, which made it impractical to carry such a large sum of money.

After hearing the details, Samudel quickly provided an answer.

“There won’t be anyone here who has something like that. You’d probably need to go as far as Komad to find it.”

Although Miguel Island was a key hub for trade in the North Sea, it was ultimately just a stopover for eating and drinking. The island itself was too small, and its economy wasn’t developed enough to support the presence of such items.

In fact, the native islanders lived by selling alcohol and their bodies to the sailors, and they weren’t particularly wealthy.

Compared to this, Komad, the port city north of the Enril Desert and the Blue Marlin's destination, was the second-largest city in the lands of Zahar. As such, it was highly likely that the item Turan was looking for could be found there.

“If you’d like, I could write you a letter of recommendation. I have some ties to the House Dirmin, who govern Komad. They possess the Beast Tamer Bloodline, so you might even be able to purchase a trained Magical Beast.”

Hearing this, Turan immediately thought of Ashiz’s horse, Tilly.

That horse had also been trained by a noble with the Beast Tamer Bloodline, purchased by the House Berg, and given to Ashiz as a gift.

If it were a creature as powerful and intelligent as that brilliant red horse, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to raise one.

“I appreciate the offer, but…”

Understanding that Turan’s hesitation was essentially asking “Why would you write me such a letter?”, Samudel grinned.

“I know that with the payment I’m giving you, sir Turan, you’ll have the means to afford a trained magical beast. I’m just facilitating the deal between the seller and buyer, so don’t feel burdened by it.”

*

Two days later, the Blue Marlin set sail once more after replenishing its supplies of food and water. Except for some of those who had been whipped, both the physical and mental health of the crew had fully recovered.

With roughly two-thirds of the voyage completed by now, the sailors’ morale wasn’t bad at all.

“This voyage’s actually not too shabby. The pirates turned into our purse, the weather’s been fantastic…”

“It’s all thanks to hosting a descendant of the gods.”

Hearing such chatter from the laughing sailors must have displeased someone, as, by the third day of sailing, dark clouds began gathering thickly on the horizon.

The second mate, who happened to be on duty at the time, spotted the ominous clouds and immediately alerted those around him.

“Storm clouds ahead! Prepare yourselves!”

The sailors, seasoned by years of enduring the unpredictable weather of the North Sea, quickly began readying the ship for the storm.

The bosun, Renak, instructed the sailors to loosen the lines and lower the sails, while the helmsman nervously swallowed hard and gripped the wheel tightly.

Others, such as the cook, hurriedly moved items stored on the deck back into the hold, as the storage below was already full.

But weather is always more unpredictable than expected. Before preparations could be completed, lightning and torrential rain began to pour down in earnest.

In this season, such rainstorms could steal body heat in an instant, as if snow could fall at any moment.

The sailors, their lips turning blue, shivered uncontrollably but still did their best to fulfill their tasks.

Then, a massive wave struck the side of the ship with tremendous force.

“Uwaaah!”

A sailor who had climbed the tallest mast to loosen the ropes was flung backward by the impact, screaming as he was thrown into the air.

Whether he fell onto the deck from such a great height or into the sea, the result was the same, death was inevitable.

In that moment, as everyone’s faces froze in shock, the sailor’s plummeting body suddenly came to a halt.

“...Huh?”

“This way.”

Following Turan’s command and gesture, the sailor’s body slowly descended back onto the deck.

From a wizard’s perspective, an ordinary person who lacked magical power was no different from an animal or an inanimate object.

In other words, moving a person was no more difficult than moving a stone of similar size.

“Get below deck!”

“Yes, sir!”

After rescuing one person, Turan’s efforts continued.

Using ropes and sails controlled by his magic, he secured the sail that had been left unrolled due to the previous mishap and pushed the cargo rolling across the deck back into place.

In the process, he also saved two more sailors who had slipped and were about to be thrown overboard.

Once Turan confirmed that all the sailors except for the helmsman had moved below deck, he followed them down and shut the door behind him.

Though it had only been a short amount of time, the extreme tension left him sighing deeply.

“Hoo…”

“Th-thank you, my lord! Truly, thank you!”

As if in worship, the sailor who had been flung through the air earlier knelt down and wept profusely.

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, sir!”

“Good. That’s all that matters.”

After patting the sailor on the shoulder and consoling him lightly as he repeatedly expressed his gratitude, Turan went to find Captain Pires.

Pires was engaged in a serious discussion with the other senior sailors, but when Turan approached, they stopped talking. Pires bowed deeply and expressed his thanks.

“Thank you, sir Turan. Thanks to you, not only the sailors but all of us were able to survive. If we hadn’t lowered the sails in time, we likely would’ve sunk by now.”

“I’m just another sailor on this ship for the time being, so I simply did what was necessary. Do you think the ship will endure the storm?”

“We have no choice but to trust the ship and the helmsman’s skill. My officers and I will have to take turns going out to assist. More than that, I’m worried about everyone being so soaked…”

The cargo that had been stored on the deck was all brought down to the cabin, leaving no space to even step.

The sailors, shivering violently in their soaked clothes as the cold seeped into their bodies, were huddling together to share their body heat.

Turan silently observed the situation before raising his voice.

[“Everyone, form a circle!”]

Despite the thunder rumbling loudly in the sky above, his voice rang out clearly for everyone in the cabin to hear.

It was a rudimentary imitation of the sound amplification magic once used by the head of House Arabion during public appearances.

Although far cruder in execution, it was enough to deliver his voice to the dozens of people in the cabin.

[“I will light a fire now! Gather in a circle around me!”]

“Sir Turan, if you light a fire here, it could be disastrous.”

Pires said, trying to stop him with a troubled expression.

If the ship shook and the fire accidentally spread to the walls, it would result in a catastrophe.

“It’s fine. I have a way to light a fire without it spreading.”

“Is that even…?”

Pires trailed off mid-sentence, silencing himself.

He knew better than anyone that the wizard standing before him was a noble-level powerhouse.

After ensuring that all the sailors had gathered in a circle, Turan conjured a flame in his hand.

Because he had secured his stance firmly, the flame remained steady even as the ship rocked.

At the same time, he manipulated the flow of the air, spreading the heat evenly in all directions. Warmth began to fill the cabin, thawing the sailors’ frozen bodies.

"Oh gods..."

The sailors stared at Turan, holding the fire and radiating warmth, with mesmerized expressions.

This was a completely different kind of emotion from the exhilaration they had felt just a few days ago when they watched him massacre the pirates with overwhelming power.

‘Humans serve wizards, and wizards rule over and care for humans.’

For the first time in their lives, the sailors felt that they were being cared for by a wizard.