Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

"Board!"

"Darkus announced with a wave of his hand."

This ship is not leaving the Gallery Lighthouse, nor is it leaving Tal Corelli; it is about to depart from Lorthene and head to the northern peninsula of Elion.

It was three months ago that I was still wandering around Tal Corelli.

Here's a slightly 'simple' flashback to what happened over the past three months.

The lighthouse's ground floor is a granite tower with a diameter of twelve meters. The walls are so thick that they seem to have grown directly from the cliff, with patterns etched by the sea wind on their surface—rough, hard, and silent.

This space was used as an office area, or at least it used to be. Several oak desks were arranged against the wall, with ink bottles, pen holders, and folders on them, everything neatly organized. The chairs were pushed back in a row, as if the people working there were only temporarily leaving to get a cup of tea and would be back soon.

Unfortunately, the office area was empty.

Only some office furniture sat there quietly, like decorations forgotten by time.

Although no one was around, the place was spotless and tidy, thanks to Yoran's meticulous care. There was no dust on the table, no dirt on the floor, and not even a single seabird feather could be found in the cracks of the windowsill.

This shows that Yoran truly considered this place his home, not just a place where he "lived," but a place where he "put his heart in." He wiped the tables, mopped the floors, organized the files, and cleaned the window frames, not for a non-existent salary, not because he was obligated to do it, but simply because he wanted this place to look like someone cared.

This also reflects Yoram's character: even in a neglected corner, he strives to make it respectable.

One reason why there is no one here is related to the development of this city.

When Tal Corelli was still very small, it was just a fishing village nestled on a cliff, a lighthouse that shone only a few scattered lights at night—it was a lighthouse. Its light could pierce through the fog, guide ships on their voyages homeward, and carve a path to survival in the darkness.

But as Tal Corelli grew into a city large enough, with more and more ships in the harbor and more and more lights on the docks, the city itself had become a giant lighthouse.

On cloudy, rainy nights, the ambient light of the city perched on the sea cliffs—the soft yet dense light reflected from windows, streets, docks, and sails—is still clearly visible on the distant sea. From afar, the entire city resembles a low-hanging nebula, suspended at the horizon where the sea meets the sky.

The light of the lighthouse is no longer indispensable.

Therefore, there are no lighthouse keepers. There are no full-time lighthouse keepers who live in the tower, light the lamp every night, and receive a monthly salary. Only Yoran, this freelance interpreter, agent, and unofficial legal counsel, considers himself a lighthouse keeper.

It's not a duty, it's a choice.

Another reason is that, in addition to the tower guards, there were also customs officers here before.

The visiting spirit ships only need to undergo inspection by the port authorities to check for Duruci spies, illegal drugs, and other smuggled goods. The officials boarding the ship will look through the manifest, open the cargo boxes, and run their fingers along the seams of the hull to check for hidden compartments.

It's not very useful anyway...

As far as Dakos knows, the Duruci spy network here is very dense.

A typical boarding inspection team consists of a port master and a squad of sea guards, moving from bow to stern and from deck to cargo hold. Since the port does not levy taxes, these inspections are merely a strict security measure, not an attempt to make money.

In case of an emergency, the port authority will blow a whistle to summon reinforcements. The whistle's sharp sound can penetrate the wind and waves and reach the watchtower of the naval base. Ships stationed at the naval base can arrive within minutes, using oars and sails to cut through the waves.

Initially, the captain must take the vessel to the dock at the Lighthouse Gallery for inspection.

That's the first step in the process, and it's an essential step.

Ships that had not been inspected were not allowed to dock, unload cargo, or contact any merchants. However, as the outer defenses were gradually established, and ten towers smaller than the gallery lighthouse rose from the ground around the harbor, stringing the entire basin together like a necklace, this place ceased to be the starting point and inspection point. The inspection location moved forward, to the channel between those small towers, before ships even entered the harbor basin.

Ten towers, smaller than the Gallery Lighthouse, encircled the city's harbor, serving as an outer defensive line and buffer zone. They were not as tall or as exquisite as the Gallery Lighthouse, but they were more practical. Each tower was equipped with eagle-claw crossbows, and iron chains were hidden among the reefs at the base of the towers, which could be pulled up when necessary to block the entire shipping lane.

When Kracalond strengthened its port defenses, it referenced Tal Corelli's coastal defense system. Unfortunately, Kracalond was built at the mouth of the Red Poison River and lacked cliffs; otherwise, its defenses would have been more comprehensive, like Tal Corelli's.

Thus, the lighthouse located within the buffer zone became completely useless. It was no longer a customs checkpoint, a navigational beacon for ships, or the first link in the defense system.

It became a tower, a tower that just stands there, beautiful and historical, but whose purpose is unknown.

If it weren't for Dakos's sudden emergence, perhaps in the near future, all of this furniture would have been moved away and replaced by an Asur handicrafts showroom.
Exquisite glassware, woven tapestries, and silver ornaments will be displayed on these oak tables, each with a price tag, for visitors to choose from.

Will the lighthouse be transformed from a "forgotten office space" into a "commercially valuable tourist attraction"?
The top six levels of the lighthouse display statues of the kingdom's heroes.

Each level contains four to six life-size statues carved from white marble, each with a different pose. Some hold swords, the tips touching the ground, their hands clasped on the hilts, their gazes as calm as the deep sea; some hold spears, the shafts pointing upwards as if commanding their troops to charge; some have their hands clasped in front of their chests, their robes flowing down, their expressions solemn, as if presiding over a trial that only the gods can hear; some gaze into the distance, one foot on a rock, their cloaks sculpted into an eternal arc by the sea breeze.

Each statue was crafted by the most outstanding artisans of different eras. The texture of the clothing folds, the direction of the hair, and every engraving on the armor all bear the unique aesthetic imprint of that time.

Their names are engraved on the base. Some are resounding, names repeatedly mentioned in history books, sung by bards, and used by parents to teach their children; some are unfamiliar, names that only appeared once in the most obscure chronicles before being submerged by time; some are only known to scholars who study history, and ordinary people will only frown slightly when they see them, and then continue on their way.

But without a doubt, they are all heroes. Apart from a small number of heroes who followed Ainarion to fight against the demons, most of them were heroes who fought against Duruci!
Meanwhile, Duruci's teammates Darkus and Renn remained calm.

There is no awkwardness.

Who are they?

Having traveled all over the country, they had long since become adept at seeing and experiencing everything.

Aside from the hero statues, the most captivating element is undoubtedly the famous tapestry. It was woven under the direction of Torion Fireheart, the most outstanding artist during the reign of Edith, the eighth Phoenix King, the "Singer."

The name Torion Fireheart is well-known in the art history of Assur. Legend has it that he sat at his loom for seventy years, his fingers worn down to the bone by the silver thread, but he never stopped.

This tapestry represents the pinnacle of his life's achievements and is also the most profound gift he left to posterity.

The tapestry hangs at the top, descending vertically to the lowest level of the upper building. As visitors ascend the winding staircase, they are greeted by a series of scenes depicting the long history of Ausuan.

It is not a wall, but a river of time, flowing from the beginning of creation to the final chapter of the end. Every step you take is a century forward; every turn you make is an era over.

Staircases are the markers of time, tapestries are the colors of time.

The bottom layer depicts Asuyan and Aisha nurturing the elves in prehistoric times, at the beginning of creation, when all things were nameless and the gods still walked the earth. The middle layer shows the rise of the elves, the establishment of cities, the voyages of fleets, and the blossoming of civilization.

Every scene sings praises, every thread shines.

The top floor is...

The apocalyptic scene known in elven society as "Lanna Dendra" was Asur's name for the end of the world, an end that even the elves dared not contemplate.

To put it bluntly, Lana Dendra is the end.

Flames descended from the sky, not as rain, but as a waterfall; the entire sky was ablaze, and ashes covered the earth like snow. The sea swallowed the land, not as a rising tide, but as the abyss churned, as the fissures in the seabed opened their gaping maws, dragging cities, forests, and mountains into darkness.

The gods were silent, not because they didn't want to speak, but because they had nothing to say.

The elves had nowhere to escape; there was no ship to carry them all away, no door to safety, and no prayers to be answered.

The scenes on the tapestry made everyone who reached the top floor slow down, because the details were so realistic—real enough to feel the heat of the flames, the coldness of the seawater, and the suffocating sensation of ash entering your throat. Then they quickened their pace, wanting only to leave as soon as possible.

No one wants to linger too long in front of a scene of the end, even if it is just woven.

Yoran's soft voice echoed through the spiral staircase, mingling with the stone gazes of the hero statues and intertwining with the colors woven for millennia on the tapestries. His voice was not loud, but clear; every word seemed meticulously crafted, neither too much nor too little, just right.

Dakos listened, nodding occasionally and pausing to take a second look. Renne followed behind, his gaze never leaving the details of the tapestries; he memorized the color schemes, the compositions, the techniques of weaving silk threads—all things he could later use on his canvases. D'Arrown walked at the very back, his steps slow, as if measuring something, or perhaps savoring something.

Upon reaching the top, Darkus stopped. He didn't look at the distant grey-blue sea, nor at the white buildings on the cliff. He turned and asked Darrowland what he thought of Lana Dendra.

Darrowland was silent for a moment, then smiled. The smile was optimistic, composed, and carried a certain "I don't believe in fate" conviction.

"This is merely a prophecy."

Darkus gave Darrowland a deep look, a look that contained so much: the complex emotions of someone who knew the truth towards someone who didn't, and something else—not sympathy, not pity, but something deeper and harder to express.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Then he turned around and continued looking at the sea.

if not?
Like a charlatan, he recounts events from another timeline, telling Darrowland: Lanna Dendra will appear while you are alive, but you were not burned to death or drowned. Before these calamities occurred, you were saved by your two good sons…

He shook his head, banishing the thought.

Some things are better left unsaid.

Some things are better left unsaid.

Upon reaching the top floor, you arrive at the observation deck. From here, you can see Tal Corelli perched on the cliff, its white towers, red roofs, and green canopies layered upon each other, appearing as if they grew out of the rock. Below the cliff, you can see the harbor, fortifications, and the Temple of Matheran.

To be honest, there's nothing to see.

Tal Corelli was no match for Krakarond in size, and with few ships in the port due to the redeployment of the fleet and the fact that trade had not yet fully recovered.

After descending from the lighthouse, Dakota did not choose to continue rowing forward, but instead headed north to visit the Temple of Matheran. It was already noon, and the sun was shining directly overhead, the light on the sea so bright it was blinding, and even the seagulls had retreated to the shadows of the cliffs.

Of course, we need to eat lunch at noon.

Since we're not going to the Temple of Matheran, we naturally won't choose to dine at the Flying Fish Tavern, which is right next to the temple.

So the four of them went to the Grey Oak Tavern, which was located near the lighthouse.

Grey Oak Tavern is located at the bottom of a cliff below the Royal Palace and Sea Song Academy, a place with an ambiguous atmosphere.

This question mark isn't a question, it's a description; its very existence redefines the word "style." At any time, customers can find entertainment, companionship, and a wide variety of beverages and herbal supplements.

From dawn till dusk, from dockworkers to courtiers, from the cheapest drinks to the most expensive vintage wines, this tavern is never picky, nor does it refuse anything.

It's called Grey Oak because the tavern occupies a huge cave. The cave's dome is so high that it's impossible to see, and a layer of fine water droplets hangs on the stone walls, shimmering like broken diamonds in the candlelight.

In the center of the cave stands a grey oak, from which the place gets its name. Though withered, it is extremely tall, with slender branches that climb upwards, as if trying to pierce through the cave ceiling.

The Urku wind, swirling among the branches, flowed gently, making the whole tree seem to breathe. Cloth lanterns hung from the branches, red, yellow, and blue, like colorful fruits growing on the tree.

The cave was lined with soft cushions and luxurious carpets, and featured recessed seating areas. These seats were carved out and lower than the ground, so that when you sat down, you sank into the cushions, your back resting against thick pillows, and your line of sight was just level with the low table.

On the low table were smoking paraphernalia: long sticks, short mouthpieces, silver ones, wooden ones, and all sorts of other small gadgets whose names I didn't know. Next to them were cut tobacco shreds and a small dish of tinder.

The servers served the guests a variety of drinks with fluid, natural movements, as if they had rehearsed countless times. The conversations ranged from blunt mundane topics to sharp political discussions, entirely depending on the guests' moods. The table next to them might be discussing today's fish market prices, the table behind them might be debating who was richer, Iris or Kosquie, and the table diagonally opposite them might be whispering secrets about something that would soon shake Kosquie.

No one will give you a second glance, and no one will look at you less.

The second-floor balcony, surrounded by oak trees, overlooks the entire site. Several secluded cabins have been carved out of the balcony, embedded in the cliff. These cabins have no windows, only a heavy wooden door, behind which lies another world.

As night falls, customers are led to the canopy level for a more private experience. The lighting is dimmer, the drinks are stronger, and the company is more... attentive.

Before even entering the tavern, Darkus and Darrowland had already triggered a cutscene.

Unlike his two sons who frequented the tavern, Darrowland never visited Grey Oak Tavern, despite its proximity to the palace. Perhaps this record would never have been broken if Darkus hadn't specifically requested it?
Of course, Darrow's absence doesn't mean the landlady doesn't know him. Darrow can't possibly know everyone living in Tal Corelli, but there's no doubt that everyone in Tal Corelli knows him.

That's just how big Tal Corelli is.

Phrases like "it's an honor to have you here" and "it's my great pleasure" poured from the tavern owner, Torella, like a string of carefully woven garlands, one after another, placed around Darrowan's neck. As she spoke, she led the four of them inside, past the recessed seating area, around the tall gray oak, towards a private cabin on the second-floor balcony. It wasn't one of the innermost ones, but a good spot near the railing, overlooking the entire hall, with a window that was partially obscured by a curtain.

After the pleasantries, the conversation naturally turned to Keus. Torella Moonrose was an alias, a combination of the names of two native flowers of the Drifting Islands: one blooms in shallow waters, the other on cliffs; their flowering seasons differ, but their fragrances waft in the same direction. She preferred minimalist makeup, wearing only a light touch on her lips and a subtle charcoal eyeliner, almost invisible unless closely examined.

She wore a loose-fitting robe decorated with silver scales that jingled as she moved, and she was adorned with fashionable jewelry: a pearl necklace, several silver rings, and a bracelet set with aquamarine that swayed gently on the wrist of her pipe holder.

She always carried a long-handled pipe engraved with flowers, and the smoke that drifted from her fingers carried a sweet fragrance, not the smell of tobacco, but the aroma of some kind of herb mixed with honey.

She spoke in a warm and relaxed tone, as if chatting with an old friend rather than receiving a distinguished guest. Easygoing and easily amused, she laughed so hard she bent over, her shoulders shaking, and her silver scales rustling, when Dakota simply remarked, "This pipe is longer than my arm."

The whole process was smooth. From entering the room to taking his seat, Torella bowed and left. Dakous's response was also very normal, so normal that he was sure that Darrowlan had not noticed anything unusual.

On the surface, Torrelan is a follower of Loyke.

She viewed her career as a sacred mission, and although her interpretations of the performing arts often leaned towards the glamorous, Loyke's doctrines imposed few constraints on her, and her intentions were deemed benign.

Historically, hedonistic sects have used taverns as a vehicle for corruption; these places, ostensibly taverns, were in reality dens of debauchery for Assati followers. However, Torelan advocated moderate consumption and a balanced lifestyle, and remained vigilant against sectarian activities.

She knew where the red line was.

This is also why Grey Oak Tavern has been able to stay in business and be located near the Royal Palace, much like a karaoke bar located opposite the City Hall...

But in fact……

Torella was neither a follower of Loyk nor a follower of Asati. Or rather, she believed in the former, but not deeply; Loyk was her facade, the lamp hanging on the facade, illuminating the tavern entrance but not her heart. As for the latter, in Ausuan, believing in Asati was ultimately illegal, and the name of Asati could not be mentioned before Duruci's reign over Ausuan; she wouldn't be foolish enough to link her business with illegality.

She was a follower of Hecate.

That long-handled pipe, a pipe, carved with flowers, exuding a sweet fragrance, twirled between her fingers like a fine toy.

But it's more than just a pipe.

Because of Gray Oak's presence and her own magical prowess, her spellcasting abilities were hidden and suppressed. This was both a deliberate disguise and a 'way of being' that naturally formed after living with this withered tree for a long time, much like a reef disappearing when the tide recedes.

But when necessary, the pipe can also serve as a staff and a medium for casting spells. Her grip on the pipe will change, with her thumb pressing down on the deepest part of the carving, the core of the rune.

At that time, the Urku wind among the gray oak branches would pick up slightly, and the cloth lanterns would sway gently.

Yes, she is a sorceress.

She is one of the sorceresses personally trained by Malekith. She is the kind of veteran who has been honed in real combat and trained on the edge of life and death. She knows when to strike and when to retreat. She is also the person in charge of the Duruci spy network led by Egileser in Kosqui.

Of course, it is one of them.

Although Kosquiat is not large, it has a long coastline, numerous ports, and a dense network of smuggling routes, making it impossible for one person to manage it all.

Taverns have always been a good place to gather information.

This is common sense, and it's the truth.

Because Grey Oak Tavern is close enough to the docks, its customers often utter inappropriate things when they come ashore, drunk. Sailors boast when they're drunk, merchants reveal their secrets, and nobles say things they would never say when they're sober.

They thought it was safe here, that the lights were dim enough, but they were wrong. Every word spoken here is recorded, filtered, categorized, and summarized, then sent to its proper place through some channel.

At the same time, because of something here—something that was ruthlessly eliminated in Nagalos, strictly controlled in Ulthuan, but still found in the private cabins of the Grey Oak Tavern—the upper class occasionally patronizes this place. They're not here for the wine, not for the food, but for a pastime that can't be found elsewhere, a way to temporarily forget their status and pressures.

This discussion will now turn to Nagarus.

Before Darkus came to power, Nagalos was very open. This "openness" did not refer to the diversity of ideas and culture, but rather to the countless hallucinogenic substances available, from the cheapest herbal powders to the most refined magical essences, from underground workshops to aristocratic salons. They were everywhere, sold everywhere, and bought everywhere.

With Morales' death and Dakota's rise to power, these things were all wiped out, and only normal tobacco and alcohol were allowed to exist.

Influenced by Nagalos, the items sold at the Grey Oak Tavern have changed, moving closer to the "official" tavern. Those things that once circulated in private cabins, things that clouded the mind and brought one closer to the gods, have disappeared.

Instead, there are higher quality tobaccos, purer alcoholic beverages, and some 'legal luxuries' from afar that cannot be found anywhere else in Kosque.

Some of the tobacco leaves from Ashreyel are not made into cigarettes after they have been dried.

The tobacco leaves originating from Chapeyuto were packed into sealed containers, labeled as "crafts," and transported to Lauren Loren, where they were processed by smugglers and Enirs from Ausuan.

Some of it flowed into the society of Enel. Those Enel were much more casual about tobacco than the Asur. Under Darkus's influence, they smoked it and grew it, but their tobacco never smelled as good as that of Asriel. Some Enel sold it to humans, and even to dwarves living in human society, through trade.

Another part appears as high-end luxury within Asur society, in places that emphasize 'taste' and 'style'.

Similarly, Dream Wine and Rare Goods from Lauren Loren, as well as goods from Nagaroth and Ashriel, will also appear in Ulthuan in bulk.

There's no brand, no packaging, no label; it's all just word of mouth: "Do you know where to buy it?"

That's why smoking paraphernalia is placed on the tables in this tavern; not every table of guests smokes, but every table of guests might want to.

Therefore, Torrelan has many identities, and being a reseller of smuggled goods is one of them.

She didn't smuggle goods herself; that kind of "dirty work" was beyond her reach. That was official business. She was the one who received the goods, the one who transported them from the docks to the tavern, and then distributed them from the tavern to the next buyer. She was the one who knew who wanted what and who could afford what price.

Dakos chose to come to the Grey Oak Tavern for a simple reason: it was close by and he could eat there.

If he wished, he could go to the palace and be well entertained by Darrowland, with long tables, silverware, waiters lined up, each dish explained by a specialist, and each glass of wine traceable by its vintage and origin.

But he didn't want to.

Who goes on vacation to eat at a five-star hotel buffet?

Another reason was that he didn't want to deal with those divine beings; once he went to the palace, an entire afternoon would be wasted.

He came to visit and travel, not to engage in social activities.

The grilled fish was good; the skin was crispy and the flesh was tender, served with chili sauce from Ashriel and locally grown vegetables from Kosqui.

Absolutely!

After finishing their meal, the four of them went to the nearby Haige Academy.

The full name of Sea Song Academy is "Sea Song Naval Academy". It is the only military academic institution in Kosquie and one of the few higher education institutions in the entire Ausuan that specializes in training naval personnel.

This place nurtured Kosquieu's most outstanding naval theorists and commanders: Lytharis, Darrowland, Sieglin, Etheris Pale, Caladoria, Elendil Tide, Kaledos, Liliana, Serandis, Fenafin, Delamaril, Imralion...

The list can go on and on until there's not enough space on the stone slab to write it all down.

It's fair to say that all the prominent figures and rising stars of the Asur Naval Academy either studied here or taught here. This is a school that shaped the soul of the Asur Navy, and its graduates are found in every fleet, every port, and every important shipping route.

Of course, the most crucial figure is the legendary Admiral Lysian Haige of the Asur Navy.

Although she was a legend, her name itself an epic, the battles she commanded are recorded in every naval textbook, and her tactical ideas have influenced generations of naval commanders. But she was also a witness to the "Day of Bloodshed," and sadly, she was unable to lead the Asur Navy to victory.

Upon returning to Ausuan, she relinquished her leadership of the fleet, not out of cowardice, but out of necessity. Looking at those young faces, those young people as spirited as she had been in her youth, she decided to dedicate the rest of her life to paving the way for them.

She chose to train various personnel for the interrupted naval department, from the most basic navigation skills to the most advanced strategies and tactics, from how to tie a knot that will not come loose to how to make the right decisions in desperate situations.

The Sea Song Academy is named after Lysian Sea Song, who sadly died of natural causes two hundred years ago.

Dacules did not meet the legend, but he stood silently for a moment before her statue at the entrance to the academy. Lysian in the statue rested her hand on her forehead, gazing into the distance, the sea breeze billowing her cloak like a banner. Her eyes held no fear, no hesitation, only a resolute "I know what lies ahead, but I will still go" determination.

Upon arriving at the Sea Song Academy, the guide changed from Yoran to Darrowland.

This place was all too familiar to Darrowland. As a student, he had studied here; the classrooms, the corridors, the stone steps washed by the sea—all held memories of his youth. As a ruler, he had also visited frequently, attending graduation ceremonies, inspecting the teaching progress, and resolving disputes between instructors and students.

That's all there is to Tal Corelli; it's just a short walk away.

The students here are mainly Kosquill, supplemented by Itien and Iris. The academy's courses emphasize practical teaching.

Students often receive hands-on training in the nearby port and shipyard below the cliff. Instead of sitting in the classroom drawing blueprints, they actually stand on the deck, hold the helm, and feel the waves. They actually crawl into the bottom of the ship and use hammers and chisels to hammer out the curve of the keel.

Lysian believed that the sea was not learned from books, but rather absorbed into one's skin. Most instructors taught only one season a year, spending the rest of their time in key positions in Ausuan or the colonial fleet.

They are both theorists and practitioners.

What they teach is what they themselves are using.

When Dakous arrived, apart from a few sea guards, there was no one else in the academy. It wasn't because they were taking a nap during lunch break; it was related to the current situation.

There were no instructors; they were in charge of commanding the fleet and were currently at sea, wherever they were needed. The students weren't in the academy either; after all, the academy's curriculum emphasized practical teaching, and now was the best time for that. Going to sea with the fleet was more effective than sitting in a classroom for a hundred lectures. The entire academy was empty, save for the sea breeze blowing through the corridors, rattling the doors.

But that didn't stop Darkus from talking to Darrowland.

As originally agreed upon by Darkus and Finnubar, Lythalis Stashad would retire and return to Tal Corelli to prepare for the establishment of the Naval Academy.

Haige Academy is the best foundation.

There's no need to start from scratch or begin from scratch. The school buildings and docks are already in place, and even the instructors can be selected from among the soon-to-retire naval officers. All that's needed is to adjust the curriculum, update the teaching equipment, and reorganize the training system.

The rest is just a matter of time.

Darrowland was moved once again; he couldn't help but be moved.

Following the shipyard, Dakos has brought out another piece of cake.

Not the kind of cake drawn on paper that takes many years to materialize, but the kind of cake that's already on the table, ready to be reached for.

In the future, this place will no longer be the academy of the Asul Naval Academy, but one of the highest academies of the entire Elven Navy, specializing in training personnel for surface warships.

Students study navigation, weaponry, communications, and ship command, with major specializations including nautical technology, ship command, weapon systems and engineering, communications engineering, marine surveying, and hydrographic surveying.

It's not just about teaching how to sail a ship, but how to sail it well, how to command a ship in combat, and how to make correct decisions in complex environments. It also provides advanced training and continuing education for active-duty naval officers, such as training for positions like ship captains and department heads. Those who have already proven themselves at sea can return here, spend a few months systematizing and theorizing their experience, and then return to sea with even greater capabilities.

This will strengthen and stabilize Kosquie's influence within the Navy!
After leaving the Sea Song Academy, Darkus subtly informed Darrowland that it was time to attend to his own business.

Yoram is enough as a guide.

There's nothing we can do about it; that's just how big Tal Corelli is.

Before Darrowland was about to leave, Dakou informed him of a personnel appointment: Kohein would soon become the acting governor of the province of Charis.

His tone was calm, as if he were continuing to unfold a layout he had already rehearsed in his mind many times. There were no pauses, no hesitations, no probing questions like "What do you think?" He simply gave his answer.

If you can initiate a game, so can I, and my game is much bigger than yours. It's like one person lightly touches the excrement with their hand, then puts it in their mouth and takes a sip, while another person picks up the excrement and opens their mouth wide...

amount.

Darrow's lips twitched slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only nodded. Then, he took a deep breath, turned, and walked towards the palace.

His pace quickened compared to when he arrived, as if something was urging him on, or as if something was waiting for him.

Upon hearing this news, Yoran completely broke down. (End of Chapter)