Ryan's cabin was located at the rear of the Bordeleau Galleon, in an area reserved for high-ranking nobles and the ship's captain. Though the rooms were modestly sized at about ten square meters each, they were well-appointed. This setting reminded Ryan of a deluxe hotel room from his previous life, complete with a bed, bedside table, cabinet, sofa, and even a small desk.
Even with these amenities, the room was still considered the best on the ship. After all, the galleon was a warship, not a luxury liner. Ryan and his companions were on an expedition to Estalia, not a pleasure cruise.
"Master, it's time to get up," the dark elf maid, Olica, approached the bed in her headscarf and slippers, speaking softly. "Lord Fedmond has arranged to meet you in the dining room at four this afternoon."
"Time to get up, dear. We have business to attend to," Veronica, her face flushed, gently pushed Ryan away. The Garland Witch lay on the soft mattress, her legs weak and her waist sore. She was still catching her breath, indicating to Ryan with some annoyance that he had had his fun and should now focus on the task at hand.
"Are you coming with me?" Ryan asked, kissing Veronica on the lips and forehead before getting up to dress. "What about you, Olica?"
"I'm staying here, Master," Olica, feeling a tinge of jealousy towards the languid Veronica, shook her head.
"No, you're both coming with me. And fetch Alfred too," Ryan insisted as he finished dressing. "You can't hide in the cabin forever, Olica. And Veronica, you need to socialize with more nobles. It's not all about locking yourself in to conduct research just because I'm around."
"Alright, fine," Veronica sighed, realizing she couldn't use her soreness as an excuse. As Ryan's tone left no room for argument, the Garland Witch had to comply.
Ryan's current status and authority meant his orders were not to be ignored.
Twenty minutes later, they were all dressed and ready. Veronica had touched up her makeup, and Ryan had called Alfred, who had taken a nap on a metal-framed bed. The nap hadn't been very comfortable, evident from Alfred's response as he greeted them. "Good afternoon, Ryan, Miss Veronica, and the dark elf."
"How's the accommodation on the galleon, Alfred?" Ryan asked, patting him on the shoulder.
"Not great, but it's better than sleeping on the deck of Nordland's ships, which I'll never forget," Alfred shrugged, finding the living conditions just bearable.
The Empire had two naval forces: the Reikland Navy and the Nordland Navy. However, neither was particularly formidable.
The Reikland Navy boasted a large number of ships, including powerful warships comparable to the Bordeleau Galleons. But it primarily operated as a riverine navy, often acting as river patrol due to Marienburg's unique status and Reikland's lack of a coastline. This role limited their seafaring experience to occasional skirmishes with Norscan raiders and Bretonnian privateers. Most of their fleet consisted of small riverboats unsuitable for ocean voyages.
The Nordland Navy had extensive seafaring experience but was much smaller in scale. Ryan always believed that the Nordland Navy's true name should be the "Nordland Coastal Defense Force."
Simply put, the Nordland Navy existed solely to assist the coastal fortresses in repelling Norscan and marauder invasions. Despite their maritime experience, they lacked the capacity for long-range operations and warfare.
"Heh, Nordland's navy wouldn't stand a chance against those Asur ships," Olica sneered, clearly unimpressed. "You humans have no idea what a real navy looks like if you haven't seen the Black Arks."
"Care to enlighten us about the Black Arks, Miss Olica?" Veronica stretched, her sweet almond eyes fixed on the dark elf.
"…I'll only tell the Master," Olica's amber eyes flashed with hostility before she turned away.
"Ryan will tell me," Veronica countered, staring down Olica.
"Whether the Master tells you is up to him, but I will only inform the Master," Olica retorted, refusing to back down.
Women are such trouble! Didn't I warn you not to provoke them? Alfred exchanged a glance with Ryan, silently communicating his exasperation.
The golden-haired Templar had initially planned to visit Magritta, home to the main temple of Myrmidia, the goddess of war, which was a pilgrimage site.
Myrmidia, worshipped in the southern realms like Estalia and Tilia, had a presence in the Empire as well. Known for her role in the Crimson Flame Expedition, Myrmidia symbolized the art and strategy of war, in contrast to Ulric, who embodied its savage strength.
While not as widely revered in Bretonnia and the Empire as in the southern realms, Myrmidia was still respected. Bretonnian knights sometimes prayed at her temples before campaigns, a practice the Lady of the Lake viewed with benign acceptance.
In the Empire, three knightly orders honored Myrmidia as their patron: the Knights of the Blazing Sun, the Knights of the White Wolf, and the Knights of the Spear of Justice. Among these, the Knights of the Blazing Sun, headquartered in Talabheim, were incredibly wealthy. They adorned their armor with gold, onyx, obsidian, and diamonds, each carrying a polished mirrored shield capable of reflecting any light. They safeguarded the trade routes between the Empire and Estalia, earning substantial profits.
The Order of Justice, to which Alfred belonged, didn't have much regard for the Myrmidia Church but didn't oppose it either. Ulric's followers, on the other hand, were openly hostile to this goddess who viewed war as art and strategy. They successfully blocked the establishment of a Myrmidia Academy branch in Middenheim, despite its presence in Nuln.
Ryan gave Alfred a sidelong glance: Shut up!
The tension among them was a minor distraction, quickly fading as they arrived at the dining room. Duke Bodrick's eldest son and Grail Knight, Fedmond, was already seated, accompanied by a red-nosed captain. The captain wore a pirate-style hat, with a cutlass and pistol at his side, and had a fierce look with large, bull-like eyes and a bushy beard.
"Good afternoon, Sir Ryan," Fedmond and the captain stood up to greet him as he entered.
"Good afternoon. Please, be seated," Ryan nodded, maintaining a composed demeanor.
Veronica, observing this, marveled internally. She noted that Fedmond, the future Duke of Bordeleau, rose to greet Ryan. This gesture signified that in the eyes of Fedmond and, by extension, the entire knightly kingdom, Ryan was regarded as an equal to the dukes.
"Sir Ryan, this is Captain Penelope de Gama," Fedmond introduced, "His father was Estalian, and his mother Bretonnian. He commands the 'Wrath of Manannan.' Captain de Gama will coordinate with us to exert pressure on those Estalian brigands and force them to return the artifact."
"Pleasure to meet you, Sir Ryan. You can call me Pepe. It's an honor to have your assistance in this operation. May Manannan bless our sails," the red-nosed captain, fully aware of the significant effort the ducal house had made to enlist Ryan's help, expressed his respect.
Pepe? Ryan's thoughts briefly drifted to a memory of a fierce martial artist in white, delivering a powerful kick in a competition and then being sent off with a red card by the referee. Shaking off the memory, Ryan motioned for Veronica, Olica, and Alfred to sit.
Both Fedmond and Captain Pepe couldn't help but steal glances at the stunning dark elf. Fedmond found it unusual that Ryan, a paragon of chivalry, kept a dark elf as his companion.
"Olica is skilled in various soul magics and interrogation techniques. She'll help us gather information during this mission," Ryan explained, noting their curiosity. He then inquired, "How long will it take to reach the Principality of Bilbali?"
"About a week to ten days, depending on wind and weather," Captain Pepe replied after consulting a map.
"Hmm…" Ryan nodded thoughtfully, contemplating for a moment before addressing the captain. "The Sea God Fleet must be carrying ample supplies, right?"
Fedmond was taken aback, finding it surprising that the main battleship would carry cargo. His immediate reaction was disbelief.
"Yes, our holds are well-stocked with various goods," Captain Pepe confirmed.
"In that case, we should prepare some gifts to present to the Duke of Bilbali upon our arrival," Ryan instructed, frowning slightly. "Make sure one of the gifts is particularly substantial."
"Understood!" Captain Pepe agreed, nodding. "I'll have the first mate handle it right away."
"Sir Ryan?!"
Fedmond, puzzled and displeased, interjected. "Why should we gift those Estalian thieves? They stole our family heirloom!"
"True, the Estalians orchestrated the theft of the Trident of the Sea God," Ryan acknowledged calmly.
"Then why are we giving gifts? We should land at Bilbali with our men and start the investigation immediately!" Fedmond, his face reddening, couldn't fathom Ryan's decision.
"Why not present gifts?" Ryan countered with a sharp tone. "If an elven army came to Bordeleau seeking an artifact, would you allow them to roam freely, digging through your lands while you sat in your castle pretending nothing was happening?"
Fedmond was at a loss for words.
"We're here to investigate, not declare war. Think carefully, Fedmond. If our actions prompt the Duke of Bilbali to complain to King Richard, and Richard holds us accountable, how much trouble will that cause?"
Finally realizing the gravity of the situation, Fedmond, who had been consumed with the loss of the Trident, felt a cold sweat break out.
"What should we do then, Sir Ryan?"
"Here's what we should do…"
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