Black Sail

Two days had passed.

Early morning.

The dim sky at the break between sea and heaven began to diffuse a horizontal glimmer.

It was time to board the ship as agreed, a direct journey to Heaven Port awaited.

To avoid drawing attention,

Caroso opted for a mid-upper-class inn; at sea there was no choice but to bed down on the floor, letting Goria and Fafna sleep on the bed.

Here, he booked two rooms with Caroso remaining nearby to respond to any events instantaneously.

This area wasn’t controlled by Aran’s forces; although the Southern Continent was rich in crops and had a suitable climate, it was relatively poor in mineral resources. Basic minerals were abundant, but the spiritual ores were quite limited. Being a grain-producing land that could provide stable and low-priced crops without internal strife or natural disasters was all that could be hoped for. The Emperor showed little interest, his thoughts occupied with pulling off flashy stunts and tugging wars with well-established powers of the Western Continent.

There had been no encounter with any danger in these days.

At the vanity.

Goria was brushing Fafna’s hair as she looked in the mirror.