NOVPUBThe morning sunlight slanted over the sea, casting a shiny silver halo.
Every time the ship’s hull slid across the waves, the halo would quiver slightly, as if the sea was breathing.
The chill brought by the sea breeze could not be dispelled even under the sunlight.
On the second floor of this sizable merchant ship heading to Lilom City, the wooden furniture and decorations exuded intricacy and warmth. Viscount Francis was seated at the dining table covered with a brocade tablecloth, with silver utensils arranged in a row before him.
The middle-aged Viscount, dressed in a dark gray suit, decorated with a family crest embroidered in gold thread, looked somewhat tired. However, his meticulous attire still projected solemnity and elegance, and his slender fingers bore subtle traces of swordsmanship.
He delicately forked a piece of smoked salmon into his mouth, subconsciously furrowing his brow as he chewed.
Yet it was not due to the chef’s performance that day.
"Alas, handling the capital this year will probably be quite challenging."
He sighed inwardly without uttering a word.
The Protoss Empire consisted of seventeen provinces.
Lilom City, located in the already impoverished Xi Nan Province, stood as the most remote in the region, quasi-converted into a citadel in the forest if not for its coastal access.
The Protoss Empire was currently in an extremely dangerous situation with the neighboring countries led by the Aestheland Kingdom to the northwest. A full-scale war on the Northern Continent was imminent, needing only a trigger to ignite the blaze of a war of the century.
Although such a far-flung city in the southern rear would not directly catch in the crossfire, issues like conscription and taxation brought by the war might become unbearable burdens for such a remote small territory.
What’s more, the most ridiculous decision of the empire now was to embrace the Rebirth Church.
This act of bargaining with the tiger might appear as a brilliant move for the powerful people in the capital, certainly casting a significant terrifying deterrence on the northern countries. However, it was without a doubt a catastrophe for the common people. Even in distant border cities like theirs, the presence of Resurrection Believers on the streets induced panic among citizens.
At this moment, a knock at the door interrupted Viscount Francis’s contemplation.
"Do we have any plans for this morning?"
Following Viscount Francis’s voice, a young man dressed as a steward slowly entered the room. He was Viscount Francis’s secretary and also his bodyguard.
Lord Viscount, our guest has awoken," the secretary reported calmly.
Francis slowly swallowed the food in his mouth and nodded, "Alright, I understand. Prepare some fresh tea and fruit to be sent to his cabin. I’ll be there shortly."
It is better for a person who has suffered a shipwreck and has possibly gone without food for a long time to supplement with fruits and water before having a meal.
Recently, the frequency of magic storms at sea has been increasing, leading the empire’s ports to suspend southbound routes for passenger and merchant ships.
The closer it gets to the waters in the middle of the North and South Continent, the higher the rate of severe incidents.
According to the imperial investigation report, disaster scholars generally believe that two terrifying creatures had a life-and-death battle in the southern waters. The unabated collision of magic powers has exacerbated the diffusion of natural disaster-like magic waves.
"Very well, my Lord."
The secretary gave a slight bow and exited the dining room.
Not long after, Francis finished his breakfast. He put down his cutlery and wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin. After adjusting his tie, he rose from his seat, leaning on his cane.
Originally, it was just an ordinary journey to visit old friends and conduct some business in a large port city in the east. This trip, however, had taken a slight detour.
Last night, a storm had swept across the sea, the waves raised by it threatening to engulf their merchant ship, time and again. But for those accustomed to rough seas, this was nothing out of the ordinary.
However, suddenly a sound of "thud—" echoed through the night, piercing the darkness and reaching the ears of the sailors on the ship’s railing.
The experienced sailors could identify the material of the impacting object - wood - just from the faint sound.
Leaning over, the sailors noticed what seemed to be a piece of shipwreck. Surprisingly, there was a teenager clinging onto this piece of wood.
This seventeen or eighteen-year-old boy appeared to be a child of destiny, held firmly by a piece of driftwood. He had been drifting along with the sea current and had luckily stopped by their merchant ship.
More surprisingly, the recent collision did not inflict any harm on him. He was almost like someone ushered to the ship’s side through the use of a powerful magic.
The sailors immediately braved the wind and waves to rescue the boy.
Viscount Francis also instructed the ship’s doctor to treat the boy, who was covered in wounds, and take care of him as much as possible. no𝚟𝚙u𝚋.c𝚘m
The teenager’s brown hair was as silky as silk, and his clothing was unique, suggesting he was a visitor from a far-off foreign land.
Strictly speaking, unidentified individuals should not be rescued.
In this day and age, the people of the Protoss Empire were in danger, and anyone could easily be labeled as a "heretic" or a "traitor".
However, Viscount Francis had always believed in the guidance of the Goddess of Destiny and the principle of karma. He would not harm the boy before confirming his identity.
"Sigh, if we can’t make it in a few more years, I’ll take Zestira and head to the Southern Continent. At least they won’t be outrageous enough to label the Church of the Goddess of Destiny as a heresy."
Viscount Francis walked over to the window, looking at the tumultuous sea and today’s unpredictable weather, and sighed.
Anyway, his daughter had been prejudiced and discriminated against in the Protoss Empire because of her Demon Race traits since childhood. At worst, they would abandon their current noble status and start anew in the Southern Continent.
Although it would be tough to find a kingdom on the southern continent that treated the Demon Race equally, at least it did not impose a death penalty like the Protoss Empire for concealing racial characteristics.
Viscount Francis walked to the door, pulled open the heavy cabin door, and stepped outside. The hallway, covered with a red carpet, was lit by several whale oil chandeliers. The shimmering light made one feel the warmth of home even at sea.
His steps were steady, but his mind was full of thoughts.
Finally, he arrived at the guest room door, where he saw his secretary waiting. After a brief exchange and a nod, Viscount Francis knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Hearing a gentle voice from inside, Viscount Francis pushed open the door and walked in.
The air in this simply decorated yet fully furnished bedroom was filled with the scent of seawater and damp wood.
A brown-haired young man was sitting on the edge of the bed. He had beautiful green eyes. His left eye was covered with gauze. Bandages extended from the cuff of his dark suit, covering his wrist to his elbow, and stretched across his collar.
The magic power within his body was only about first-order.
He didn’t seem like a battle-hardened warrior. His skin was delicate.
Showing his incredible survival instincts, he had still managed to cling to life despite his severe injuries.
According to the secretary, the brown-haired young man initially spoke an unknown language. However, he carried a card imbued with translation magic, which swiftly enabled normal communication.
Even though they had not begun talking, Viscount Francis felt upon meeting his gaze for the first time, that he was not a bad person.
His eyes were clear, naturally filled with compassion and concern, without any focus on himself.
He was concerned about the suffering of all beings.
Those were the eyes of a saint.
