Ch.113The Path to the Miriam Continent (2)

Though it may not be particularly important, the continent of Faerûn where I lived was the first discovered among the thirteen continents and the northernmost one.

Because of its proximity to the Arctic, rare earth elements mined from the Northern Sea and whale byproducts from whaling operations always constituted a significant portion of Faerûn’s total production index.

While rare earth elements could be found on other continents as well, some resources were exclusive to the polar regions. Moreover, the byproducts harvested from whales were difficult to substitute, ensuring consistently high prices within a stable demand.

But as always, high profits without risk simply didn’t exist. Whaling ships had to contend with both pirates seeking whale byproducts and the retribution of the whales themselves.

Unable to endure these challenges, some whalers converted their vessels into cargo or passenger ships. The Mary Ross we were aboard was one such case—a whaling ship repurposed into a multipurpose vessel.

“I feel like the whale smell is seeping into my body.”

And inevitably, this Mary Ross, being a former whaling ship, was permeated with the sticky “fragrance” of whales (written as fragrance but read as the stench of corpses), and our cabin was no exception.

Fortunately, it wasn’t quite bad enough to be called a stench, but for those unaccustomed to it, there was little difference.

If only the windows could open for ventilation, but the sea breeze would bring its own fishy smell, and besides, they couldn’t be opened anyway, so it was pointless.

“So we must live like this for a month.”

“Ughhhh…”

I was fine, but my wife’s condition was far from good.

Having to cross rough seas where the Arctic cold current meets the warm current of the Fami Strait was bad enough, but being confined to this small room for a month made it worse.

A month isn’t exactly a long time, but it certainly isn’t short either.

On this ship with extremely limited entertainment, there was nothing I could do about my wife’s frustration during her prime years.

Only two days had passed since the ship’s departure, meaning we had 38 more days of swaying together inside this collection of rocking wooden planks.

“Master…”

“What?”

“What did you do when you were bored in Parcifal?”

“When I was bored…?”

Hearing her question, I recalled my time in Parcifal.

…

I didn’t do anything in particular.

Because I never had time to be bored.

My life was a repetition of working, eating, and sleeping, with no room for leisure.

Even when I went out to buy things, I did so by cutting into my sleeping time. How could I possibly recall the sensation of boredom?

Though I have a bit more free time now, the mental space within me isn’t yet sufficient to cultivate hobbies.

“I was never bored in Parcifal.”

“Ehhhh…”

When I said that, my wife’s spirits sank.

She had probably been hoping to extract some novel form of entertainment from me.

“It’s not like you were any different. Just because Faerus Vale had many amusements doesn’t mean you could enjoy them.”

When I said this, her face trembled slightly.

Finding it cute, I kissed her, causing her face to turn red. Seeing her like that reminded me of one of the few small pleasures I could access in Parcifal.

Masturbation.

Of course, now I had my own personal pussy, so there was no need to comfort myself.

I pushed my wife down beneath me again and covered her mouth with mine as she was about to cry out.

*

“Whenever you’re bored from now on, just tell me.”

“…”

My wife didn’t respond.

She had reached a state of unconsciousness after twelve hours of marital love.

“Hmm.”

If she were to awaken her aura, such issues would disappear. Would it be possible to engage in marital activities for 36 hours straight without rest?

As I pondered this, I suddenly felt melancholic.

Am I, as a person… despite appearing to engage in philosophical contemplation, ultimately just a vulgar man obsessing over the feel of his wife’s breasts?

Rustle.

I covered my sprawled, enticing wife with a blanket and opened the cabin door to get some fresh air outside.

My cabin was on the second deck, and I would need to climb to the third deck to see the night sky.

“Salute.”

“Mm.”

I saw crew members filling in the caulking (material inserted between the wooden planks of the ship for waterproofing), and they saluted me respectfully when they saw me.

I climbed the stairs to the third deck where I could see the ocean, and there I saw watchmen munching on salt-preserved apples.

They straightened their posture when they saw me. I nodded slightly to them, then pulled over a suitable box to make an improvised chair and sat down with my arms resting on the ship’s railing.

“Haah…”

When I opened my mouth, the fishy smell of the sea stung my nostrils, and I momentarily furrowed my brow at this all-too-familiar scent that bordered on repulsive.

Yet somehow, my mood wasn’t bad, and the afterimages of the Ascenders in the sky along with Maria’s light gently illuminated the dark sea.

“Lord Victor.”

“Captain.”

Just then, the captain called me from behind, and I turned around briefly to see him approaching me.

“Since you weren’t at dinner… I was worried something might have happened.”

“Ah. It’s fine. My wife was suffering from severe seasickness. I was helping her settle down a bit.”

“Haha. I see.”

The captain had an amiable impression, the kind of person who would look like an executive in any company or organization wherever he went.

“But isn’t it uncomfortable to walk around in armor like that? Won’t it rust?”

“Rust can be scraped off… and as a knight, I can’t let my guard down.”

“That’s admirable…”

I suddenly realized that the crew members were armed with polymer and plastic shotguns.

To me, an aura user, they were merely cumbersome weapons, but for non-aura users, few guns were as threatening as shotguns.

The wounds they inflicted were difficult to treat, and their stopping power was so tremendous that even someone wearing armor could suffer internal injuries.

“Guns, huh…”

“Pardon?”

“No, it’s just been a while since I’ve seen guns. Not many people use them except sailors.”

“Ah… yes. Though I hear they were widely used in the ancient empire…”

For sailors who had neither the facilities nor the space to train, guns were like best friends.

They guaranteed a certain level of accuracy even on a rocking ship, could repel pirates attempting boarding attacks or aquatic monsters without close contact, and above all, they were simple to use, making them easy to learn even for the mostly illiterate crew members.

“This ship. It was a whaling vessel, right?”

“Ah… is it that obvious?”

“I caught a glimpse of the gun ports. 203mm caliber. You’d need at least that much to hunt large whales.”

“Wow… This is the first time I’ve met a knight so knowledgeable about the sea. You’re right. This ship was a whaling vessel. After ten years of firing cannons and guns at whales in the Northern Sea, we decided we couldn’t continue and now transport cargo and passengers instead.”

“Hmm… Still, isn’t it overly armed for a passenger or cargo ship? 127mm or 155mm would seem sufficient.”

“That’s true, but 203mm looks more threatening, doesn’t it? That keeps pirates at bay, so we’ve just left them as they are.”

“What about monsters?”

“Monsters have intelligence too. After taking a shotgun blast or two, they flee in panic. Now that we’ve quit whaling, even casual shots are enough to drive them away, which makes things very convenient.”

“I see…”

Indeed, if I were a pirate, I would certainly avoid a passenger ship equipped with 203mm cannons.

Even I would instantly become a “Victor” without the “r” if hit by such artillery.

“I heard that profitable whaling ships even carried missiles. Is that right? It’s been a while, so my memory is hazy.”

“Ah… yes. I’ve seen a few ships carrying them. Two of them were wooden vessels like this one with missiles on board, but they were eventually destroyed by whales in the middle of the sea.”

Whales were divided into two categories: the cute (relatively speaking) “animal” whales that we commonly think of, and the enormous (absolutely) “monster” whales.

While hunters primarily targeted animal whales, some money-crazed whalers would even raise funds to deploy aircraft carriers to hunt monster whales.

“Have you ever used them?”

“This ship isn’t that large, you know? And it’s not an ironclad. Besides, properly installing missiles requires permits and modifications, making it more trouble than it’s worth. Probably only corporate whalers would use such weapons… actually, even corporations might not use them that much?”

“Hmm?”

“Usually, corporations with abundant funds don’t use ships like this at all. Instead, they deploy airships, harpoon the whales, and carry the carcasses away. Have you ever seen a whale with blood dripping from beneath an airship?”

“That… I haven’t seen.”

“Hahaha. You should see it sometime. With just one such airship, we could still be decimating the whale population today…”

The captain trailed off, seemingly regretful.

It seems whaling was indeed a lucrative business.