Black Sail

The next day.

It was already the last day of the year 1292 in Aran Calendar and 2689 in Holy Spirit Calendar.

Heaven Port was blaring with cannons and deafening with drums and gongs.

Normally, the trash pirates on the island, who even save money on bullets, were suddenly spruced up today.

Putting aside the bigger forces here, everyone else was just ordinary pirates, who, having money, would spend it lavishly.

Just like Liszt’s hometown celebrating the holidays with a game of cards, the bigger you play, the better you seem to be doing in the eyes of your neighbors, roughly the same mindset.

Some money had to be spent at this time to maintain appearances.

For Fafna, this was undoubtedly the happiest day.

The winter day was quite gloomy, with fine snow floating in the sky, and even the fireworks set off during the day were clearly visible.

Heaven Port had no aging population, the useless ones had all died, and of course, newborns were a rare species, who would bring children here to raise, it was a country of migrants, with no second-generation migrants.

There were still peers though, according to the local calendar of sixteen months a year, there were some teenagers, who were currently having a snowball fight with Fafna.