HoG - Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Iron Anchor Bay

In the blink of an eye, several days had passed.

To the north-northwest of the 'Maneater,' against the cold currents along the ice shelf coast and the northeasterly wind, the ship had crossed half of the North Sea, heading north. The October sea breeze was growing colder, but the sunshine was quite good.

Clang, clang, clang...

On the aft deck, Byron was sparring one against two with the carpenter Young Hans and Jon, whose two fingers had been bitten off by Salman, now known as 'Eight Fingers.' Although they were using real swords, the difference in their swordsmanship was so great that no one worried about accidental injuries.

In terms of the 'Silver Laws' power system of this world, individual combat had no future. Even the most powerful supernaturalists needed a loyal guard to avoid being overthrown. Although compared to the oath knights and bodyguards heavily trained by his uncle and father, most of the pirates on this ship were like rotten potatoes and stinky eggs.

But these two, untainted by the 'Blood of Transformation,' at least had the potential for spiritual awakening and could be useful with some training. The apprentice navigators Thomas and Parry, whom he also managed, were about the same. There was no hope for them to awaken on their own; it was just a matter of how much resources would be needed to train them later.

After only a short while of sparring, the two were panting and their footwork was disorganized, yet they hadn't even touched the hem of Byron's clothes. Seeing the two apprentice navigators still lying on the ground, panting, Byron felt he might be rushing things a bit. He shook his head and sheathed his sword:

"Your foundation is too poor; you haven't systematically learned swordsmanship at all, at most you're at the level of ordinary militia. Let's put aside the 'Fisher Chop Swordsmanship' that pirates must learn and start with how to hold a sword. The others are the same."

He turned and gestured for the other young people in the circle, whose talents were not as outstanding, to come closer. He taught them how to hold a sword, step by step.

"Hold the sword firmly, but not too tightly, or your arm will quickly tire. You only need to exert force when chopping and blocking. After completing a move, learning how to relax your hand is a very important skill; swordsmanship experts call it: the soft hand. This is a necessary introduction to learning any swordsmanship, making your hand more agile without fatigue or stiffness..."

"The essence of the fierce 'Fisher Chop Swordsmanship' is to attack, attack, and attack again. Beginners must firmly guard their 'line of attack,' the trajectory that your weapon must follow to hit the opponent. Remember the key points of the offensive moves: When attacking, never let your front foot touch the ground before your sword reaches the target, and never let the tip of the sword leave the best line of attack! Only then can you strike the opponent faster and save your own life..."

The group of young people listened with great seriousness. They might be naive, but they were certainly not foolish; they all knew that every word Byron said now could change their fate in the future. Unlike the navy, which had a systematic training system, pirate groups adhered to the principle of "survival of the fittest."

Countless sailors who couldn't make a living, boarded pirate ships, and after experiencing numerous bloody battles, as long as they survived, they would certainly become strong amidst life and death. Learning more now could increase their chances of becoming "survivors." This was the right way to cultivate supernaturalists step by step.

Compared to the mysterious 'Battle Blood,' this was truly for their own good.

As a result, in the eyes of the small group that already worshipped Byron, he added a label of kindness to his already impressive traits of strength, knowledge, and humility. Especially 'Eight Fingers,' who was particularly grateful.

With Byron, the head chef, standing in front, he no longer needed to serve the terrifying captain as a mere kitchen helper. He was even given a glimmer of hope for the supernatural. Compared to some people on the ship, the perfect knights who starred in legendary stories were no different.

Feeling 'Eight Fingers' fervent gaze, Byron glanced at the 'Navigation Log,' smiling knowingly at the new content that had appeared.

"Date: Year 1471 AD, October 22nd.

Weather: Clear, northeasterly wind at level 4.

Course: North Sea, near the coast of Scandinavia, close-hauled sailing against the wind on the starboard side.

Supplies: Pirate ship Maneater (small galleon).

Crew:

Kitchen Helper Jon, 19 years old, from the North Bay, a fisherman from the Kingdom of England, only three months of militia training, clean background, so honest it borders on cowardice.

Title: 'Eight Fingers'

A title mocked and despised by his peers, it marks the most helpless moment of his sailor career. Because he was easy to bully, he was sent by his malicious peers to the most dangerous post. Since boarding the ship, he has lived in constant fear.

The two fingers bitten off by the captain are the blood and tears of the weak and a helpless acceptance of misfortune by an honest man. But this humiliation has been deeply buried in his heart. Once the threshold is broken, even the smallest spark could completely shatter an honest man's limits, leading to an explosive and terrifying backlash!

(Don't bully those honest people, or you might only realize the value of your life when you fall... it's only worth... five dollars.)

Loyalty: 91 (max 100, below 60 there's a risk of betrayal at any time)

Knowledge: Fisher Chop Swordsmanship (beginner)

Note: An unremarkable extra, but the one on this ship who most hopes you will replace Captain 'Blood Eye' Salman, without a doubt!"

'Echoes of History' recorded more detailed information about his own crew than about enemies, and it also included a "loyalty" indicator.

Even without having served as an officer on a ship, anyone who has played strategy games knows the significance of loyalty to an organization. With this, Byron had a clear understanding of his crew's situation.

Not only could he keep dangers at bay, but he could also detect any abnormalities if one of his own was suddenly turned against him. And now he was only missing one thing... the title of captain.

His peripheral vision swept over the door of the captain's quarters, his face showing no sign of abnormality, as if he had never seen the terrifying sight of that night.

At this moment, the lookout stationed in the mainmast crow's nest suddenly called out:

"Look, the buoy at sea, Iron Anchor Bay is here!"

The pirates on the ship, regardless of what they were doing, all perked up and rushed to the deck. Previously, when they were fleeing, they had to break free from the military ship's grappling hooks by using the high-risk "anchor turn," which shook the entire ship.

They needed to go to a large dry dock for a comprehensive repair. Only the largest pirate port in the North Sea, Iron Anchor Bay, could meet their needs.

Moreover, they had lost more than half of their crew, and even if they saw a merchant ship, they could only stare helplessly. They were counting on being able to replenish a batch of elite fighters from Iron Anchor Bay.

More importantly, the 'Maneater' usually only needed to "sacrifice" a chef every now and then. But under Byron's ever-changing gout menus, Salman's frequency of illness during this "darkness before dawn" became higher, more painful, and more insane. Several more people had disappeared from the ship in the past few days, causing everyone to be on edge, eager to get off the ship.

"Huh? Why is there only a buoy here, where's the port?"

Most of them were visiting Iron Anchor Bay for the first time and were puzzled by the sight before them. Not far from the bow, there was only a crude barrel buoy tied with anchor ropes, with a skull impaled by a spear. Behind the buoy, just a stone's throw away, was a wall of dense white fog.

There was no sign of a pirate port at all.

Although Byron was knowledgeable and experienced, he had never been to Iron Anchor Bay, which only pirates could enter, and had only heard many legends about it. As the pirates began to get restless,

"Iron Anchor Bay is right here."

The door to the captain's quarters swung open, and 'Blood Eye' Salman limped out. The cycle of gourmet-illness-cannibalism-relief kept repeating on him.

His stomach had also been completely conquered by Byron's cooking, and he couldn't do without his gourmet meals, five times a day.

Especially after introducing the hot pot, where everything could be cooked, and the profound saying that "all the nutrition is in the soup," Salman insisted on finishing even the seafood broth at every meal before he would stop. It seemed that his days were also numbered. It was just a matter of who would hold out longer between the two of them.

He took out the 'Ten Pirate Commandments,' written on parchment and covered with bloody fingerprints, and placed it solemnly on the ship's wheel. His eyes, with a bloody spiritual light, spread over it. He slowly recited the maxim adhered to by supernaturalists of the Lighthouse sequence, also known as the Pirate Ship sequence:

"Seizing is better than toiling!"

Buzz—!

In Byron's 'Spiritual Vision,' a secondary law network different from the 'Silver Laws' appeared, perfectly matching the 'Ten Pirate Commandments.'

It was the iron law of the Pirate Emperor's sovereignty—the 'Pirate Code.'

Bloody spiritual light spilled from the law network, staining the white fog before them, forming a pirate emblem of a shark-riding skull unique to the Maneater. It charged into the depths of the fog.

Soon, the sound of "splashing" oars came from within the fog.