Gunpowder Plate Armor and the Magic Revolution

The sailors simultaneously lifted the inside of the plank, tilting it at an increasingly steep angle until the center of gravity crossed the ship's side. At that moment, the body, wrapped in cannonballs and with the canvas still attached, slid down the plank into the sea.

They plunged into the deep sea in silence, the sound of their entry into the water barely louder than the sound of the smallest wave hitting the boat.

Then came a few fleeting ripples.

The Emerald Sea opened its mouth and swallowed them whole, leaving not a trace.

Their property would be sent to their families, and those without families would have their property auctioned off on the ship.

Their beds are washed with vinegar and preserved until they are buried in the ground the next time they come ashore.

The sailors seemed to perfectly embody the meaning of "you can't take anything with you when you die," "live for the moment," and "always maintain inner optimism and strength in the face of unknown fears."

Noze thought to himself.

It seems that it is precisely by accepting this kind of life that they have been able to maintain their fearlessness and courage, and to persevere in riding the waves on the sea.

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The sea, which had been torn apart by gunfire and fighting during the day, finally returned to calm, with only small waves lapping against the hull and making a soft splashing sound.

The three ships anchored at the anchorage, and bonfires were lit along their sides.

The deck of the Shining Gold was the liveliest.

The sailors who survived the ordeal rolled wax-sealed barrels of liquor to the fire, the chipped wooden bowls clanging together, and the aroma of strong liquor mingled with the sea breeze, dispelling the lingering smell of blood on the deck.

The rough men who had been gripping the ship's rudder, pulling the ropes, and brandishing knives and guns during the day had all shed their panic and were now laughing and joking around the fire.

The first mate, who had just become the captain of the Goldfleur, was going around toasting people, and you could tell he was really happy.

Several lively sailors, keeping time with the music, began dancing the most popular dance in the port of Orentia. Their boots slammed against the wooden planks, creating a rhythmic and enthusiastic beat that drew cheers from the surrounding crowd.

Several young officers, who were already sitting around the fire drinking, were suddenly pulled into the dance by the noisy sailors.

At first, they were a little reserved, maintaining the airs of officers. But after a few bowls of wine and being swept up in the cheers around them, they simply let go of the barriers of rank and jumped up and down with the sailors. Their clumsy movements drew laughter, but no one really laughed at them.

After all, they were comrades who had walked through the gates of hell together today; they were brothers in arms.

Someone started singing the ship's song that had been passed down through generations of Orentia sailors.

This is an old tune that has been passed down for nearly a hundred years. It originated from a folk song sung by Orentia navigators when they opened up the Emerald Sea route.

The lead singer was the oldest sailor on the Shining Gold. He was missing half a front tooth, and his voice was hoarse from the sea breeze and rum, yet he sang with extraordinary emotion.

However, Norze and the others couldn't quite understand the boat song, which was a mix of dialects and slang.

Just then, the first mate, who had been toasting everyone, finally walked over to Norze with his glass in hand.

"Warrior! Birtus! The three officers are indeed Birtus!"

The first mate's face was slightly flushed from drinking. He raised his glass and praised the bravery of Norze and his men without reservation.

"I have seen your bravery and fearlessness. Come! Let us have a drink! You are undoubtedly the best soldiers, the best warriors, the most fearless sailors. I wish all my men were like you."

"Come on! Come on! Let me toast you! Birtus!"

Norzem naturally couldn't refuse the other party's kindness, so he picked up his glass and took a few sips.

After finishing his drink, Nozer pointed to the old sailor singing in the distance and asked, "Is he singing in the Commonwealth language? I can't understand it."

"This is the dialect of Orentia, not the Commonwealth language. Plus, the accents from different places are too heavy, so it's normal that you army officers are far from home and can't understand it. It's probably about the dangers of going to sea and the longing for family and hometown."

"People always want what they lack most, and this is especially true for those of us who are often separated from our families... If you work near the coast, it's okay, you can go home every two weeks. But if you work on the open ocean, crossing the Feria River to the Federation's 'New Land,' you can only come back about once a year, and that's only if everything goes smoothly."

"What if things don't go smoothly?"

"Nozer asked."

"Not going well? If it's not going well, either the ship will be destroyed by a storm and everyone will die, or you'll die of thirst and hunger at sea. Being robbed by pirates would be a good thing."

"Oh dear... a year is too long for my little one to grow so much. Even though it's a lucrative job, it's still too long..."

The first mate wore a smile, clearly missing his family and children. "What if he doesn't recognize his father anymore..."

The song echoed across the vast sea. Some people sang until their eyes reddened, wiped their faces with their hands, and then picked up the bottle and took a big gulp.

During the day, they watched their companions fall under the pirates' blades. Now, fueled by alcohol and song, they finally released all the lingering fear and relief that had been weighing on their hearts.

The noise around the campfire continued.

Major General Bilkin, his face flushed from drinking, was surrounded by several officers urging him to drink more. He simply threw off his military cap, slapped his thigh, and began to sing the Orentia Army's military song. His voice was so loud that it even drowned out the tune of the boat song, prompting a group of officers to join in the singing.

In the shadows of the ship's deck, Monet leaned alone against the railing, the sea breeze blowing through him. From a distance, he looked like a statue blending into the night, completely out of place on the bustling deck.

The pirate sailors who had been temporarily hired huddled in a corner on the other side of the fire.

They did get their share of wine, but dared not make a sound. They just sipped it slowly, watching the lively crowd not far away.

On the Fang, the atmosphere was far less enthusiastic than on the Goldflint.

Old Scar and Missing Tooth squatted by the fire, sipping their drinks, occasionally glancing up at Jeffrey standing by the ship's railing, as if they wanted to say something but hesitated.

Jeffrey stood with his back to them, gazing at the flickering flames on the Shining Gold, his fingertips tapping against the cold railing of the ship.

The sea breeze ruffled the hem of his clothes, and the dishevelment and timidity of the day had long since vanished, leaving only the unique composure of this old sea wolf.

"The boss."

Old Scar finally couldn't hold back any longer and leaned forward to whisper, "Are we really just going to let it go like this? That box of jewels... and the White Gull..."

"Let it go? Of course we can't just let it go like that."

"So what do you mean?"

Old Scar's eyes lit up, thinking he was going to back out, and his hand was already on the hilt of the knife at his waist.

"We'll set sail tomorrow and follow them."

Jeffrey raised his hand and patted the railing. "We'll protect them all the way to the sea outside Monsoon City. The Emerald Sea isn't a peaceful place, and we might be able to help them."

Old Scar and Missing Tooth exchanged a glance, both seeing shock in each other's eyes.

"Huh? Boss, I thought you were going to..."

"What do you want? A person should have integrity. Haven't you seen those fickle and unreliable people? Their heads are still stuck in the mast. Are you itching for a fight?"