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Chapter 181: This Really Is a Chaotic Place
🕑 Added 2025-01-13 03:21:58 +0000 UTCOn the second day after Charlot Mecklenburg occupied Cappadocia, he sent a messenger to Britain. However, instead of receiving a reply, two merchant ships docked at the harbor. Before the crew could grasp the situation, the West Wind Knight Order, lying in wait, stormed aboard and detained everyone. Charlot deftly “indoctrinated” them with a round of persuasion, complemented by the salty effects of the Stretching Stare Pill, advancing the labyrinth progression to 6/18.
This time, an unexpected twist occurred. The captain of one ship, introducing himself as a former pirate, revealed his backstory. During a boarding skirmish, a Transcendent aboard the targeted ship severed his arm. Forced to retire, he transitioned to a merchant career but struggled due to his inexperience.
This man, calling himself Mad Horse Davis, became particularly enthusiastic upon learning that Charlot had taken control of Cappadocia and possessed four merchant ships—now six, counting his own and the other newly arrived vessel. His eagerness to pledge allegiance was so fervent that Charlot began to suspect him of being a Byron spy.
Nevertheless, Charlot recognized his acute lack of naval talent and welcomed this former pirate captain warmly, granting him favorable treatment. Charlot placed him on the same footing as his combat team, which consisted of himself, Dolores Soumet, Anastasia, Belisa, and the former Cappadocian chief overseer Cruse. Each member led squads of one hundred, and Davis received similar terms.
Mad Horse Davis, now a trusted subordinate, suggested an enticing idea:
“Lord Kainan, if you wish to establish a pirate fleet of your own, merely commandeering merchant ships will not suffice. We’ll need at least one warship.”
“Merchant ships may carry cannons, but their firepower is abysmal.”
“Surely, you understand that while Transcendents decide the outcome of land battles, at sea, victory depends on cannon fire—after all, Transcendents can’t fly.”
“Except for Saint rank individuals,” he added.
“If we encounter a Saint, surrender is the only option,” Davis said with a shrug.
Charlot nodded in agreement. “But we can’t exactly raid the Royal Navy of the Ingrima Empire, can we? How else could we acquire a warship?”
Davis chuckled. “Aside from attacking the Royal Navy, I do know another way. On the far side of Goring Island, just half a day’s journey from here, lies a small island called Saint Michael Island. It’s home to a pirate fleet known as the Golden Rams, boasting over thirty ships, three of which are warships.”
Charlot’s eyes sparkled at the mention of Saint Michael Island, a place he knew well due to its fame. The island had once been the capital of a small kingdom called Saint Michael, a single-city state whose monarchs dedicated centuries to fortifying the island into a formidable castle. Despite its small size, the Ingrima Empire had failed to conquer it for ages and was forced to compromise, granting its king the title of Duke in exchange for allegiance to the empire.
Ironically, a year after submitting to the empire, an internal rebellion erupted. The new Duke’s nephew, seeking to restore the monarchy and crown himself king, colluded with pirates for a coup. Predictably, the pirates massacred the royal family—including the ambitious nephew—and seized the island for themselves.
However, the pirates proved incapable of governance. Ruling a pirate city required exceptional talent, and soon the initial group was eliminated by rivals. Over time, Saint Michael Island changed hands repeatedly.
Charlot had studied the island during his university days but had no knowledge of its current occupants.
Davis continued his pitch. “Saint Michael Island is far superior to Cappadocia. Over two hundred merchant ships pass by annually, and it’s brimming with wealth. If we can capture the island, you’ll be the new king of the Aggras Sea.”
Charlot was now certain that Davis was a textbook “double-dealer”.
Even the Ingrima Empire had failed to take the island. How could he, with only six merchant ships and barely a thousand men, hope to succeed? Davis’s proposal might fool someone blinded by greed, but Charlot wasn’t buying it.
Still, he considered the possibility:
“Davis must have some connection to Saint Michael Island. Should I exploit it?”
“It won’t hurt to try, and if it fails, I lose nothing,” Charlot thought, weighing the risks.
“Besides, the island is only half a day’s sail from Cappadocia and won’t affect the labyrinth’s expansion.”
With a courteous demeanor, Charlot asked, “Saint Michael Island is notoriously impregnable. How could we possibly take it?”
Davis, confident as ever, replied, “The Golden Rams’ fleet recently departed. Only about ten ships remain on the island, making this the perfect opportunity. I’ve dealt with them before and can pose as a supplier. Once we dock, we’ll launch a surprise attack at night. The island will fall into our hands like ripe fruit.”
Charlot thought to himself, “This plan is a death sentence for him. I’ll have to find an opportunity to kill this man.”
Acting on Davis’s suggestion, Charlot began mobilizing the city. With his growing reputation in Cappadocia, he recruited 500 new fighters, expanding the West Wind Knight Order to 2,000 men.
This new force, however, paled in quality compared to his original West Wind Knights. The former group consisted of seasoned Cappadocian city patrol guards, while the new recruits were largely freed slaves and local Goring natives—motivated but inexperienced.
A fleet of six merchant ships carried the expanded order to sea. Shortly after setting sail, Charlot overheard a familiar name.
Unbeknownst to Davis, Charlot’s Eye of Insight revealed all. While Davis plotted with his crew to lure Charlot into a trap laid by the slaver leader Chatham, Charlot was privy to their every word.
Charlot was amused but not entirely surprised. He had let Chatham go earlier, expecting him to spread word of Cappadocia’s occupation by Byron forces. Yet Chatham had instead arranged an ambush, intending to eliminate him.
Reflecting on his experiences in Strasbourg, Charlot concluded:
“While I’ve often lamented the chaos of the medieval states, the Ingrima Empire’s disarray is on another level. Slave traders can collude with bureaucrats and pirates alike. This really is a chaotic place.”
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