Ch.187The Path to the Continent of Meridia (4)

“Not much time left now.”

I muttered as I looked at the Meridia continent marked on the map.

The cargo loaded was 1,600 tons of pollock.

According to the accountant, if I managed to sell it at a fair price, I could easily earn 500 gold coins.

With a bit of luck, I might even aim for 600.

And in my hand, I held military scrip issued by the admiral, equivalent to 1,000 gold coins.

Even if he were to be executed or removed from his position as general, this was still military scrip issued by an admiral of a nation. If I couldn’t exchange it, the military’s credibility would plummet, and the Adventurers’ Guild would step in to literally smash the coastal territory to pieces for failing to properly compensate an adventurer.

The Adventurers’ Guild never showed mercy to those who didn’t provide proper rewards for adventures.

Wouldn’t any ordinary nation collapse in a day if they deployed just three or four gem-rank adventurers who could literally overthrow countries?

Thinking this, I fluttered the military scrip I had obtained last night.

1,000 gold coins.

It was truly an astronomical amount.

Literally the kind of heavy, cold, yet beautiful and dazzling gold coins you’d expect to find in a treasure chest, soon to be in my hands.

“What a wonderful world.”

I thought back to when I first killed a giant rat and was overjoyed with just a few dozen copper coins.

Ah! It’s been only a year, yet my growth has been so remarkable!

Surviving and triumphing in countless sword fights against enemies, broadening my horizons by visiting numerous famous places.

Senior adventurers who walked the same path as me. Fellow adventurers walking alongside me. And junior adventurers who will follow in my footsteps—how will I be remembered by them?

Unfortunately, that was a question I couldn’t answer. After all, an objective evaluation would only come after my death.

What good comes from slandering the living besides hatred?

I put away the military scrip and looked in the mirror.

The face of a boy was gradually disappearing from my features, replaced by the face of a man.

Now I was no longer Viktor of Parcival, but Sir Viktor Walker.

Free men dare not meet my eyes, and those in servitude tremble at the power flowing through my gaze—what greater blessing could there be?

Once again, I offered a deep prayer of gratitude to the Sun of Humanity.

Even at the cost of my life, I firmly resolved once more this morning never to do anything that would diminish His majesty.

“Captain?”

“What is it?”

“Breakfast, sir.”

“Come in.”

With my permission, a crew member carefully entered with a tray containing breakfast for two and placed it on the table beside me.

He promptly closed the door and returned to his post, while Laisha, still lying in bed, picked up a spoon and began munching on oatmeal.

“You shouldn’t eat lying down. It’s bad for digestion. Sit up.”

“My goodness… who’s the one destroying my waist every night…”

“And who’s the one asking for kisses and embraces every night?”

“Really!”

Laisha chuckled as she got up and sat at the table to eat her oatmeal.

It was far too humble a meal for a knight’s lady, but I had no spare money in my wallet at the moment, so there was no choice.

Of course, my party members probably still had hundreds of gold coins in their wallets, but that was their money, not mine.

As a man, it would be a serious blow to my pride to raid my wife’s wallet to feed the crew.

“This oatmeal is quite decent these days. Or perhaps what I used to eat was of lower quality…”

“I’ve rarely eaten oatmeal before, so… if you think it’s good, then it must be.”

I sat at the table and took a bite of oatmeal. It tasted exactly like grains soaked in milk with honey and cinnamon—nothing more, nothing less.

To think that the poor eat this without the milk, honey, and cinnamon—truly a pity.

“Have you really never had oatmeal before?”

“Well… porridge-like foods weren’t popular at the docks. They were avoided because they didn’t keep you full long enough for rough sea work. Instead, I ate biscuits and salted meat until I was sick of them. If you bought low-quality salted meat, you had to scrape off excrement and hair, then wash it in seawater.”

Laisha quietly ate her food while listening to my story.

In truth, Laisha had belonged to the common class, not the poor, so she couldn’t be directly compared to someone like me who had to commit crimes just to survive.

“What did you usually eat in Faerus Vale?”

“Well… I ate what others ate… bread made from rye and corn… rice mixed with millet and sorghum… pickled vegetables or jerky as side dishes…”

“That sounds like a feast.”

I smiled bitterly as I spread butter on bread and put it in my mouth.

The taste of fine wheat bread and butter.

How many people had I killed just to taste something this simple?

“We’ll reach the coast of Meridia by dawn tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe we’re going to the Meridian continent… it feels like just yesterday we were struggling on the Miriam continent…”

“Haha… I feel the same way.”

*

It was around 10 o’clock after breakfast.

“Captain! Look over there!”

“Hmm?”

As we were strolling around the deck, a much smaller airship was floating alongside us, heading toward the coast of Meridia.

The name “Fiddler’s Green” was written on the side of its soft balloon, and the crew members inside were waving at us.

I waved back, and they started laughing. That’s when I noticed a large advertisement attached below them.

[3 silver coins per crate of pollock! Buy 10 crates for 20 silver coins!]

“Huh. We’ve got competition.”

It was to be expected, really.

Even an accountant from a completely different continent knew that Meridia had a taste for pollock, so naturally, others would have the same idea.

The airship beside us was just a symbol of that reality.

“I wonder how much that airship can carry.”

“Well… probably around 100-200 tons at most…”

“Then we’ll make more profit!”

I said with a laugh.

It was always thrilling to be able to move more goods than your competitors.

“In the past, during ancient times on Earth, they crossed oceans in small vessels of just 200 tons. Then that airship should have no problem crossing the great sky.”

“Still, sir, bigger vessels are better for travel.”

“That’s right. Absolutely fucking right.”

I smiled bitterly at the crew member’s comment.

Even in Parcival, when a 1,400-gun 15-deck warship appeared, the navy would raise flags and make way, and civilian merchant ships wouldn’t dare enter the harbor.

“Have you ever seen a 1,400-gun first-rate ship of the line?”

“Pardon? 140 guns?”

“No. 1,400 guns.”

“Uh… no. Can something like that even float?”

“It does. Amazing, isn’t it?”

“Truly amazing, sir.”

It still puzzled me even now.

When I was young, I only thought, “It’s super big, so it’s super cool,” but how could a wooden keel—not even ironclad—withstand the stress from 1,400 cannons?

As I was pondering this, I spotted Cassia passing through the corridor with a bottle of alcohol, so I asked her about my question.

“I suppose they made it from the World Tree.”

“Ah.”

A decade-long question resolved in just ten seconds.

“Is the World Tree that sturdy?”

“If it weren’t sturdy, how could it grow thousands of kilometers tall? With all the magic, sorcery, and technology invested in growing one, a 1,400-gun 15-deck warship would be nothing to it.”

“I see…”

“Cutting down a World Tree must be expensive, right?”

“You can’t cut it down. If one fell, it would literally flatten several cities without a trace.”

“Then how does the timber get distributed?”

“They cut the branches. They’re ridiculously huge—a single leaf weighs hundreds of tons. Cutting one well-grown branch could probably build an entire fleet.”

“…”

It truly deserved the name “World Tree.”

Not only was its length and height unfathomable, but just pruning its branches could produce an entire fleet—wasn’t this a bit too much like a fantasy novel?

However, considering that in just one year I had gone from a street orphan to a gold-rank knight errant, I didn’t question the plausibility or realism of the World Tree.

“Cassia.”

“Yes?”

“Would a novel with me as the protagonist sell well?”

“The protagonist would be too overpowered, so probably not.”

“Hmm…”

“Think positively. It just means you’ve become that strong.”

Cassia said as she rolled the bottle and headed to her room.

It means I’ve become that strong… I had nothing to say to that.

At least there’s no dispute that a Knight of the Sun is far stronger than a street orphan.