Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God
Chapter 408 - 347 Zalanda’s Predicament_1

Chapter 408: Chapter 347 Zalanda’s Predicament_1

"Right in Felen, just off the coast in Giant Dragon Bay, lies the Watcher’s Call," Kopofiel said excitedly. "It’s a newly refitted three-masted warship, equipped with fifteen of the newly developed bombards by the gnomes of Landan Island, an unrivaled naval divine artifact.

If we could repair it, I wouldn’t dare say about other things, but the entire Ashaba River, we could traverse it lengthwise, with a bombardment range extending three hundred meters along its banks."

"Gnome bombard? How did you get your hands on them? Aren’t they exclusive to gnomes and not for sale?" Gaven suddenly realized and finally understood the true reason why the Watcher’s Call was able to guard the Thacel Sea Area alone for more than a decade.

So it was equipped with a cross-era divine artifact.

The Gnome Bombard is an oversized version of the Gnome Hand Cannon, with firepower between that of a traditional cannon and a modern one.

Legend has it they’ve been researched for over a century.

But they have been forcefully sealed away by those legendary powerhouses, due to their potential impact on the world order.

The Lady of Storm, who had just established a friendly relationship with Gaven, was one of the direct participants, rumored to have once secretly protected Landan Island.

"Has Lord heard of the Gnome Bombard?" Kopofiel perked up, relieved to hear the other party had heard of it; it would be troublesome if the Lord hadn’t and took it lightly, "We have aided Landan Island several times in defeating the pirates of the Islands of Nelanser and established a friendly relationship. The Gnome Bombards on the Watcher’s Call were gifts from the gnomes, who also personally took care of the installation."

By the end, Kopofiel couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh, "Any exclusive goods will eventually become merchandise. The Gnome Bombard is no exception; its effectiveness in naval combat is just too sharp.

The pirates from the Islands of Nelanser have long coveted it, not only repeatedly assaulting Landan Island but also covertly deploying countless spies. Although they didn’t manage to directly steal any blueprints, they did steal several bombards and have begun their own attempts at replicating and developing them. When we were still in the Thacel Sea Area, they had already produced their imitations.

Although their performance is less stable and their power weaker than the gnomes’, with such a foundation, their development will undoubtedly be swift.

Now, many ships in those waters are equipped with these kinds of bombards, which isn’t beyond the realm of possibility."

"In theory, salvaging the Watcher’s Call and repairing it is feasible, but there are a few issues that need to be clarified," Gaven organized his thoughts and said, "Firstly, the Watcher’s Call is a sea vessel, which definitely has a deep draft. Are you sure the Ashaba River can accommodate its passage? At the very least, it must be able to navigate most areas smoothly and enter Giant Dragon Bay."

Kopofiel took a deep breath, calming his excited mind with a strong show of self-control, and after seriously considering it, he answered, "Without conducting an on-site survey, I can’t answer Lord’s question. However, one thing is certain: when the rainy season in Comanso arrives and the water level of the Ashaba River surges, the Watcher’s Call should be able to navigate most of the downstream areas.

The only problem is Feather Falls, with a drop of nearly two hundred meters. Even with assistance from Lord Thornspike and others, it would be quite difficult to get such a massive vessel past the falls."

"A mere waterfall is manageable; we can make use of the power of spells to handle that," Gaven then raised another question, "With Giant Dragon Bay being so vast, can you pinpoint the exact location of the Watcher’s Call’s wreck?"

"Not a problem," Kopofiel responded as he took out a necklace from around his chest.

Calling it a necklace was a bit of a stretch, as it was merely a large key strung on a red cord.

This key had an ancient design and glistened with golden light, clearly not an ordinary item.

Kopofiel answered, "The Watcher’s Call is part of a semi-magical ship, and it has a magical propulsion device. This key is the starter key for that device, and there is a close connection between the two. Through it, we can easily locate the site where the Watcher’s Call sank."

It seemed that Kopofiel had made thorough preparations for the eventuality of salvaging his vessel from the depths of Giant Dragon Bay since the moment the Watcher’s Call sank."

"Alright, I’ve taken note of this matter and will give it serious consideration," Gaven nodded. "Even with the help of the estate, this is no trivial matter. After all, we have to venture deep into the ocean, an environment we are not familiar with. We must be fully prepared."

"Lord’s thoroughness is commendable. I shall entrust ’Watcher’s Call’ to you then," Kopofiel said solemnly as he handed over the golden key to Gaven. "This launch key, I leave in the care of the Lord."

From now on, the significance of this key began to change.

"No need," Gaven waved his hand, "Surely the General isn’t planning to leave this entire matter in my hands, is he? When it’s time to recover ’Watcher’s Call’, your assistance will surely be needed. For now, keep the key yourself."

Kopofiel couldn’t help but smile, hanging the key back around his neck and praising, "The Lord’s magnanimity is unparalleled; I had a lack of faith."

But now there is a new problem, not to mention recovering all the ships from the ship graveyard, even if we manage to recover one-fifth, we do not have enough sailors to operate them. Even with Kregi and the others who stayed behind, at best we could barely get three ships moving, which is far from their maximum output."

"That’s why I need the General to accompany me back to Thacel another day," Gaven said, having had a plan in mind for some time.

This plan, he’d had for a while, only initially without Kopofiel.

This General, who is wholeheartedly devoted to his country, has too strong an obsession with Thacel," afraid that once he returns to Thacel,

he will be influenced by the local atmosphere and, afraid his old problems will recur, he might not want to return to the Valley with me.

But now that there is the bond of restarting ’Watcher’s Call’, I believe that even if we chased Kopofiel away, he wouldn’t go before we bring out this warship.

"Return to Thacel? Does the Lord intend to recruit sailors from there?" Kopofiel’s eyes immediately lit up.

This is an excellent idea.

The Thacel warlords have been battling for years, and the coastline has long become a haven for pirates.

Severely disrupting the coastal trade and fishing industries.

The number of unemployed sailors is large, with some even being forced to join the ranks of pirates, further bolstering pirate power.

Being a sailor is inherently a profession that requires one to be away from home for long stretches of time. As long as there is money to be made, they couldn’t care less about traveling far from home.

As for Gaven’s financial strength, Kopofiel has no concerns whatsoever.

A person who has just credited millions to his account short of money?

If it were in Thacel, with that wealth, one could arm a large army of tens of thousands - the kind of regular army.

"It’s not just sailors. If possible, it would be best to recruit some of the displaced people as well, but we’ll see when we get back to Thacel." At the moment, Gaven was somewhat unsure of the situation in Thacel.

Because of his actions, Thacel’s timeline had been stirred up.

Zalanda had risen ahead of time and was already making a splash there.

"Alright," Kopofiel also fell into deep contemplation, calculating in his mind just how many of his acquaintances were trustworthy enough to be pulled into his own formation.

Although it had been less than a short month, he had fully acknowledged Gaven’s capabilities.

And he had embraced his concept of achieving salvation through indirect routes. Compared to their constraints in Thacel, those in the valley were much smaller by far.

They could do as they pleased, engaging in whatever they wanted.

As long as one had the ability, they could fully express and display it.

Unlike in Thacel, where they were constantly controlled and oppressed by those great nobles.

Selling Ghost Grape Wine for millions and having it all go into one’s own pocket wasn’t unthinkable, it was impossible.

The exploitatively layering nobles would take ninety-nine percent of the profits.

If one ever refused, forget about the remaining one percent; you wouldn’t get to see a dime of it.

Their armies would march directly towards you, taking not only all earnings but also the land that generated the wealth.

Just as Gaven had said before, to change Thacel, one must thoroughly transform this upper class structure.

Without sufficient military strength, this task was impossible.

And by staying in Thacel, one would have to face the barriers and entrenchments they created, whether intentionally or not.

This feeling was most profound to Zalanda, who remained in Thacel.

Riding at the head of the troops and battling the monsters of the wilderness never intimidated her, for all she had to do was lead her army in endless charges, cutting down every monster still standing within sight.

They would naturally collapse, either surrendering or fleeing back to their homelands in the Marching Mountains, the Star Spiral Mountain Range, or the Omuran Mountain Range.

But with those nobles of Thacel, it was different; endless maneuvering and compromise were necessary, and one dared not easily initiate hostilities.

Because once a conflict began, regardless of victory or defeat, it was the people of Thacel who ultimately suffered.

Zalanda, clad in full military gear, stood in front of the tactical sand table, her brows tightly furrowed.

The people of Thacel only saw her glorious record of ten victories in ten battles.

But they did not see the immense troubles brought on by those victories.

Darama was now overpopulated; extending five kilometers outside the city wall, the consequences were unthinkable if the enemy were to breach Darama.

Therefore, Zalanda had to lead her troops in preemptive strikes, sweeping clean all monster races within a hundred kilometers that could threaten Darama.

With each new victory came more followers; many had had enough of the monster harassments and the severe extortion from local lords, choosing to return with Zalanda to settle in Darama.

Excessive population was also a concern,

Even more so than the problem of an insufficient population.

At worst, a lack of people meant slow developmental progress.

But overpopulation meant many could not find work, and whole families suffered hunger.

For the moment, fervent faith could provide support.

But over time, this fervor would turn to rage and curses, even transforming into resentment.

That was the situation Darama faced now.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A knocking sound akin to bombardment came from outside.

Zalanda’s brow smoothed instantly, her demeanor calm, radiating confidence as if there was nothing in this world that could puzzle her.

For she was no longer the captain of a baron’s guard from six months ago, but the acting City Lord of Darama, with a hundred thousand people following her, entrusting their lives and fortunes to her—she could not betray this trust.

She keenly knew that every word and deed of hers affected many, and that much of her moods would be guessed at and amplified by those below her, especially the negative ones.

Even though she had an inkling of who waited outside the door, she couldn’t help but put on her mask.

"Come in," she said.

No sooner had Zalanda spoken

than the conference room door was flung open with a crash.

A tall figure strode in, clad in heavy armor, carrying a double-bladed axe still stained with copious amounts of dry blood, whether his own or his enemy’s, obviously fresh from the battlefield.

Standing next to Zalanda, his stature appeared even more imposing.

Among humans, Zalanda, already tall, seemed like a demi-human next to him, only reaching his chest, her arms slimmer than his thick thighs.

When the fully enclosed helmet was removed, it did not reveal a grizzled male face but rather a girl with baby fat on her cheeks, with delicately pretty features—just two sizes too large for a normal person and certainly no older than twenty.

Her youthful face contrasted sharply with her large frame, perfectly embodying the term "a gentle giant."