Chapter 7
For a brief moment, the Black Whale was lifted into the sky by a powerful gust of wind, and then it drifted helplessly across the sea, completely out of control.
“Captain, the wind is too strong! Dropping anchor isn’t working!”
“At this speed, we’ll be out of Aquileia’s territorial waters in five minutes!”
Were they meant to just visit the island kingdom of Celadon as tourists instead of completing their mission?
Clicking his tongue, Markello stepped up onto the deck, piercing through the storm.
“I’ll stop the Black Whale myself!”
“Captain, I must object! If you act recklessly, the ship may not survive!”
He was arguing with his aide when a low voice slipped in between them.
“Seems like you’re in a tight spot, Captain.”
“You’re…”
Rumble!
The ship trembled again. The man, flashing a soft smile, spoke first.
“For now, I think we should deal with this situation first.”
The storm raged across the deck. The wind seemed strong enough to toss a man into the sea, but the man walked calmly into the gale.
Whoooosh—
With a snap of his fingers, an invisible force pushed back against the wind. The storm swallowing the massive Black Whale began to dissipate.
“L-Look over there!”
“Is that… Lord Valentir?”
Sailors emerged from the cabins, checking the situation. The translucent white shield surrounding the ship’s black hull disappeared simultaneously.
The man on the deck let out a sigh of relief as he looked around. Fortunately, both the ship and the navy were safe.
“If it weren’t for Lord Valentir, we would’ve been in serious trouble!”
Markello walked up to him with a jovial grin. Reb Valentir pulled out a handkerchief and calmly wiped the rain from his face, wearing a pleasant smile.
“No need to thank me. I was only doing what His Majesty ordered: ‘Protect the people from the Master of Storms.’”
“Indeed! There’s a reason His Majesty insisted on a joint operation with the imperial family. His foresight is as sharp as ever. Don’t you agree, Lord Valentir?”
“Of course, Captain Markello. No objections here.”
With gentle words, Reb politely declined the water offered by Charles, the aide.
“First, I believe we should review the plan once again.”
His chocolate-melt brown eyes shifted to the sea, as if chasing the image of a man who had just been there. Reb’s demeanor grew sharper.
“Captain, may I ask you something?”
He asked as he and Markello entered the cabin. Charles hurried ahead to open the door for them.
“Ask anything you like, Lord Valentir. You saved the Black Whale—I’ll answer anything personally.”
Seated comfortably, Markello looked at Reb. The younger man’s brown hair, damp with rain, framed a pair of kindly eyes.
“Do you have no intention of capturing Ian Frederick alive?”
“…Lord Valentir, that’s quite the accusation.”
“Ah, I didn’t mean to sound hostile. If I offended you, I apologize.”
Though Reb apologized immediately, Charles continued glaring at him with disapproval.
“But when I reconsider the confrontation… I can’t help but wonder. With your ability, you could’ve subdued Ian Frederick before he summoned the storm.”
“Haha, you give this old man too much credit.”
Brushing it off, Markello chuckled. But Reb only smiled gently, as usual.
“Captain Markello’s ability is worthy of admiration. I’ve always liked your quote: ‘Protecting the weak is the duty of the strong.’”
“That was nearly twenty years ago! You youngsters seem to know everything!”
“You’re famous, after all. Even putting the rumors aside, your feat of capturing the ‘Master of the Horizon’ and locking him in Carcair Prison speaks volumes.”
Markello’s boisterous laugh slowly faded. Reb maintained his serene smile.
“I believe His Majesty entrusted this task to you because of that very accomplishment.”
“Indeed.”
His sharp violet eyes, untouched by age, emerged beneath the wrinkles. His hair had turned white, but the righteous light in his gaze still burned bright.
“His Majesty… clearly still trusts me deeply! Hahaha!”
Charles, who had been tense, let out a quiet sigh. Reb shook his head with a shrug.
“This is my first time meeting you in person, but you’re just as delightful as the rumors say.”
“Is that so? And you’re just as well-mannered as the rumors suggest, Lord Valentir.”
“I’m honored to hear that from a man I respect.”
The conversation kept looping in circles. Markello, feeling stifled, popped open the buttons of his tight shirt. Charles, beside him, silently prayed for the shirt’s survival.
“So, is that enough for now? I’d rather not make a fool of myself in front of you.”
“I apologize. I was simply eager to speak with you, Captain.”
‘That young fox…’ Markello clicked his tongue internally.
Reb Valentir. His family, known for their power of protection, had long been called the people’s guardians and the Empire’s shield.
Though they hadn’t joined the “Five Noble Houses,” they had steadily built up public favor and reputation through their protective abilities.
Now, that very head of the house had come to him at dawn to say:
“The Emperor has commanded us to capture the fugitive Kanoe Bluebell and the man who freed her, Ian Frederick.”
With that declaration, the Imperial Knights had boarded the ship. Standing amidst the armored knights, Reb looked almost out of place.
‘Hmm…’
Everyone knew House Valentir had a good relationship with the royal family. In particular, Reb was rumored to be close with the Crown Prince.
Some said he was maintaining that closeness to eventually earn his place among the Five Noble Houses.
‘Didn’t he volunteer for this mission the moment he heard Kanoe Bluebell had escaped?’
Markello stroked his rough beard, narrowing his eyes.
“Acting in haste often leads to failure.”
“I can’t help it.”
Reb’s expression faltered for a moment at Markello’s offhand comment.
“It’s about someone I considered family.”
“…I see.”
“Yes. Kanoe and I… grew up together. Perhaps that’s why I spoke so sharply earlier. I’m truly sorry.”
Charles, who had been glaring at him, now wore a sympathetic expression as he offered water again. Reb once more politely declined.
And at last, he spoke the words Markello had been waiting for.
“Tomorrow, a bounty will be placed on both their heads.”
“…!”
“You know as well as I do that crimes committed by espers are unlike those of ordinary people. What Kanoe did was enough to throw citizens into chaos.”
His voice was flat, calm—almost like a judge delivering a sentence. Markello looked at him silently before asking:
“What do you hope happens to your friend?”
Reb paused briefly, then gave a bitter smile.
“She has to pay for what she did.”
Then he pulled a rolled parchment from his coat. It was a bounty poster with Kanoe and Ian’s faces.
“No matter how close we were, murder can’t be justified.”
Charles’s eyes widened as he counted the zeros on the bounty, mouth agape.
“So please, Captain, do your best to fulfill this mission.”
“You have my word.”
Markello, a seasoned sailor and captain, felt it in his gut—
The calm seas wouldn’t stay quiet for long.
“Well then, I’ll be resting in my cabin.”
Reb politely pushed in his chair, bowed, and turned to leave.
There wasn’t even a trace of a smile on his face as he walked down the hallway.
Kanoe.
As he recalled the face of a once-beloved friend, he bit his lip.
Where are you? What are you doing right now?
“Whoa, a fishing rod that can catch people? Think we could hook a whale with this?”
“Hmm… I doubt it, Master. Maybe a dolphin at best?”
Maybe this fishing rod we found at sea was more incredible than we thought.
Behold its strength—it didn’t even break while lifting a full-grown man!
“Master, your side is sinking.”
“My dinner… the one I saved for later…!”
The fragile raft dipped halfway underwater before bobbing back to the surface. With Jelly’s help, I pulled Ian back onto the raft and stared down at him, breathless.
“Can’t even ask for payment now instead of dinner.”
“That’s quite a piratey thing to say.”
“Jelly. Want to skip dinner with me tonight?”
“Oh, Sea God. Even if Master becomes a noble pirate, I’ll follow you!”
The tiny jellyfish sure talked big. I pinched Jelly’s squishy cheek before turning my head again.
Beneath his wet black hair, a sharp and handsome face emerged. Though he looked lifeless with his eyes closed, the man was definitely Ian Frederick.
Did he fight someone at sea?
He was in a complete mess. His once pristine white uniform was stained and tattered, and his pale complexion made him look like a corpse.
Just then, Jelly—perched on Ian’s chest—suddenly hopped up and shouted:
“Master! I don’t think he’s breathing!”
