Black Sail
Chapter 482: CXI. Jail Time

Chapter 482: CXI. Jail Time

Mulong hinterland, Kelor Highlands.

Building a city necessarily requires convenient transportation, and Kelor City is not on the mountain but located at the foothills of the Transversal Mountain Range.

Those winding and verdant mountains, covered with white frost due to the high altitude.

"Rein’s hometown might be quite similar to this place."

Shadi couldn’t stand the city’s atmosphere, full of densely packed, dying soldiers and veterans; just one more glance and they would explode, listen to their death rattle a bit longer and you’d feel like melting, as if you were going to die alongside them. The sheer amount of negative energy was overwhelming, comparable to the hopeless jungle of addicts and old prostitutes at Heaven Port.

He wandered around the Black Sail camp outside the city.

The battlefront of Aran’s Grand General on Crocodile Island hadn’t even reached the midline yet, with Seventh Amendment troops harassing at the front. Meanwhile, this rear area desperately needed to recover and wait for the supplies from Lostra and the advance payment from Lostra’s finance office to Black Sail. Pirates from Heaven Port never run errands for free; they always expect some sign of goodwill before the deal is done, because you never know if you’ll live to spend the rest of the payment.

In about a week, when the Golden Dragon arrives, Black Sail should head to the frontlines. Not only to share the profits of the Seventh Amendment’s transportation network but also to show loyalty to Lostra. When you’ve provoked someone you can’t afford to cross, you need a reliable backer.

This isn’t just gang warfare; it’s a real battle.

"It’s different, this place is too vast and eerie. When I worked as a mercenary, I heard adventurers say that the views at Chenfeng Plateau made them think of Heidi and Grandfather, saying anyone who went there had to be crazy."

Morison played with a house of cards, looking utterly dejected, while gazing at the carrion vultures circling above, attracted by the stench from the city.

The two had no idea that the group chasing the Netherworld Envoy were having the time of their lives, partying with top-notch women.

"Damn Heidi and Grandfather, Rein was forced to leave the mountains and sent to Heaven Port, working for some shadowy boss, facing a scar-faced man with a strange temper. How is Rein supposed to continue inspiring others with his abstract methods? And when will he reunite with friends and family in the Alps?"

Shadi was speechless; it really was like Heidi and Grandfather after all.

"Seven out of ten, it should be Chenfeng Plateau, not the Alps." Morison rated Shadi’s metaphor, "It was naturally an eight or nine, but the slip of tongue is a pity."

Shadi thought Morison was a lost cause; this boring place had driven an already idle Morison even more insane.

A chilling wind blew, scattering the card tower Morison had built.

Morison was struck dumb, his face darkened with frustration. Being stationed here for a week or two felt like prison, he was already at his breaking point.

"Good thing Celeste is a woman; otherwise, we wouldn’t have bagged this big Aran steak."

He began to make irrelevant comments.

"What do you mean?"

"Didn’t she give you that scarless holy ointment? It worked quite well; you could still try to charm the Emperor’s daughter."

"Fuck."

Shadi touched his face, indeed finding no scars left; it was a miracle.

Celeste was a high-level agent of Lostra, skilled in disguise and infiltration, especially in certain scenarios where being a woman gave her an edge. She always carried some Holy Spirit Sect’s blessed ointment with her.

Although the Holy Spirit Sect had declined, a starving camel was still bigger than a horse. It wasn’t something local beliefs could compete with; it still had the widest distribution and strong influence in Lostra, with close ties to the local authorities. Given that the Eternal Sect was the National Church of Aran, their hopes rested solely on this country.

Gureg was no longer in its heyday; it could only follow along, ranking at the bottom of the Five Permanent, with no leverage value.

Ji Weng’s Holy Spirit Sect was a localized version, having little in common with the original; it was an exclusive violent organ of the court.

As for Pedan, it was openly hostile to all religions. Being the birthplace of the Magic Energy Industry, arcane scholars, who were the pillars of society, were not interested in those beliefs. The newly emerged Atomic Heart Church in the country promoted a very modern doctrine; it believed in a god, but not a personified one with likes and dislikes, nor one that needed worship. Their god represented a pragmatic, scientific rule, key to breaking blind faith among the ignorant masses.

Shadi had to respect the Holy Spirit Sect’s Superman Caroso, who still stayed at Heaven Port.

Caroso was truly a believer in the Holy Spirit, unwavering in such dire circumstances, a true disciple witnessing the twilight.

"By the way, how many days has it been since Mr. Archer had a drink?"

Not seeing that fool around made Shadi uneasy.

According to Celeste, all Black Sail’s key members were supposed to command the battle. However, none of these four were qualified; Liszt should come the fuck over already.

Having Archer command a battle was like asking someone with an IQ below twenty and Parkinson’s disease to perform neurosurgery with pliers and a hammer. The Western Continent had its own Ha’er Commander.

After penetrating deep into Mulong.

The supplies from Golden Palm Port; Heaven Port pirates were no soldiers. Their next meal was always uncertain; drinks were gone in no time.

The puppet government of Mulong, beaten by Aran’s "spirit injection rods," had naturally become highly secularized.

The local tribal alliances believed in indigenous religions and were worlds apart from the domestic elite class. One of their religious rules was a prohibition on alcohol.

Of course, many secretly drank, but not in public.

And now, during the wartime, Kelor City had no liquor left; even if it had, it would be hidden well.

Beauty-conscious women could drink eight glasses of detox water daily, while Archer drank eight glasses of distilled spirits. Fruit wines and beers were for kids; he started with eight pounds a day and had no problem outdrinking Ox during festivals.

Archer was among the few people Mika genuinely respected. By all logic, he should have died long ago, yet he was in good health, with all indicators normal, brimming with energy, his hands didn’t shake, having the national defense health of the old Ji Weng Upper Three Flags.

"Four or five days, I guess. The withdrawal symptoms are severe; yesterday, he was playing marbles with kids on the ground. He’s as tough as a cockroach, don’t worry about him."

Morison resumed building his card house.

At that moment, a burly Beastman pirate came with news.

"Um... Mr. Archer seems to be dying in the city hospital."

The Beastman reported.

"What?"

Shadi was puzzled; they hadn’t even fought yet and were waiting for Lostra’s supplies.

"Is this for real? Who killed him?"

Morison was shocked; someone as extraordinary as Archer was rare even on the Western Continent. Anyone who’d met him would agree Archer was the most detestable person they’d ever encountered.

It wasn’t that he was particularly hateful, just that he was... exceptionally annoying. No one would tarnish their honor by killing him over trivial grievances.

"He apparently drank two bottles of medical alcohol and is in critical condition. I’ve sent someone to fetch Master Mika."

The Beastman answered honestly.

Shadi felt like he’d eaten a lemon. Mika being called a master was a joke; everyone was called ’master’ here. Even the prostitute selling springtime was also called ’master.’ Considering the country’s backward medical technology, Mika’s knowledge couldn’t be considered advanced; it was more like prophetic.

"It’s fine if he dies."

Shadi had no intention of visiting. He had spent four years failing to understand why Fen had helped him pay for the meal and recruited him; it was all Fen’s fault.

"No big deal, he won’t die."

Morison continued building his card tower.

The Beastman was speechless. He had been a Captain of a pirate group, integrated after Doringger’s death and the consolidation of Heaven Port. Although the group was mixed-brand, he couldn’t stand the endless northern wars and had come to East Sea for survival.

He thought they would rush over urgently; it seemed the relationship among Black Sail’s leaders was quite complicated.

Mika, who rushed over, had no idea he would strike it lucky.