Before long, a Thin Bay Bayfolk Dragonhead Ship, its bow and stern curving high, glided out.
A figure clad in a tattered black robe stood at the bow, holding a brightly glowing white Whale Oil Lantern, and casually waved at them.
The wet, cold, fishy, and salty sea breeze slapped their faces, persistently burrowing into the pirates’ collars and the very seams of their bones.
Everyone was affected by the eerie atmosphere, reminiscent of the ferryman of the Nether River. They stood rooted to the spot, not even daring to breathe loudly.
The Dragonhead Ship, however, paid no mind to their thoughts. It quickly traced an arc on the sea’s surface and re-entered the white fog.
From the outside, only a faint white light, dimly piercing the mist, could be seen receding into the distance.
"That’s the escort for the Pirate Harbor! Quick, set sail! We must follow him!"
Only after Bloody Eye issued the command did they scramble to start the Man-Eating Shark, plunging headlong into the damp, fishy, and salty fog.
A Lighthouse Sequence Navigator. The lantern in his hand burns with special whale oil, rendered from pilot whales. Furthermore, one must obtain the corresponding authority from the Pirate Code to be qualified to lead ships freely through the fog enveloping Iron Anchor Bay. He does a doorman’s job, yet his actual status is very high. Serving as Iron Anchor Bay’s gatekeeper and its first line of defense, they are all part of the direct lineage left by the Pirate King of the North Sea, Whale Hunter.
While the pirates visiting for the first time were still somewhat jittery after being swallowed by the dense fog, Byron, in contrast, only felt a wave of fondness.
Extraordinary knowledge naturally surfaced in his mind.
A thousand years ago, during the zenith of the pirate nation of the North Bay Folks, they had established a vast maritime empire—the North Sea Empire.
It unified all regions along the North Sea coast; even the vast North Sea itself was merely an inland sea of the Empire.
At that time, the Strait Islands to the east of the North Sea, the Eternal Night Peninsula to the west, and a large expanse of land on the East Coast were all part of the Empire.
Unfortunately, it was but a fleeting moment, and it failed to solidify into a supreme crown.
The descendants of the Bayfolk then fragmented once more.
The common ancestors of the Lancaster and York Families were one such branch; those who gathered again at Iron Anchor Bay to return to their old trade were another.
Many more were scattered across the Old Continent, even establishing several kingdoms.
For Byron, this ancient port, inherited from the era of the North Sea Empire, was, in a way, his ancestral land, separated by a millennium.
He felt an intimate familiarity, as if rooted in his very bones.
At this moment, Old Hans, sucking on his beechwood pipe, leaned against the bulwark beside Byron. He exhaled a deep ring of smoke, his gaze somewhat distant.
"Nowadays, on the Old Continent, whether on our East Coast or the West Coast, life is getting harder and harder for pirates.
"After we used a private shipyard to secretly convert an armed merchant ship into a pirate ship, we’ve never been able to enter any official port.
"Now that we need a dry dock for a comprehensive overhaul of the pirate ship, we’ve realized that Iron Anchor Bay is the only large, fully equipped pirate port remaining.
"I’m afraid it won’t be long before this place, too, will become history."
The old man’s eyes held the wisdom of one who had seen through the ways of the world.
"As the pace of overseas expansion accelerates and riches from the sea grow increasingly abundant, in the future, neither the Church nor the great maritime kingdoms will tolerate the existence of pirates outside the ’charter system.’ Submit or die."
Old Hans’s casual remark on the plight of Old Continent pirates made Byron tremble slightly.
It was because at the end of the Sailing Logbook, [Hidden: The Shadow of the Red and White Rose War (Historical Influence 31%, Decryption Rate 11%)] had suddenly changed.
The Decryption Rate jumped from 11% to 12%.
"The outcome of the Red and White Rose War is also tied to the predicament of the Old Continent pirates?"
Byron hadn’t expected that, just as the [Hidden: Bloody Eye Salman’s Unspeakable Secrets] was about to yield results, the first hidden entry recorded in the logbook would also show unexpected progress.
He immediately racked his brain, recalling any related clues.
Unfortunately, although his status was high enough, he was only seventeen years old, still two months shy of adulthood. He had no right to participate in the Kingdom’s affairs before coming of age and hadn’t even been able to integrate into upper social circles.
Besides various learning materials, the intelligence he possessed about current affairs was pitifully scarce.
All he knew was that since 1405 of the Silver Era, various countries had begun their conquest of the seas and unknown worlds. Consequently, the profits reaped from the sea grew increasingly colossal.
The "Land Power Era," represented by the Orders of Knights, was swiftly transitioning towards the "Sea Power Era," symbolized by colossal ships and heavy artillery.
Pirate harbors along the Old Continent’s coastline were successively eliminated by various navies.
Both the "North Bay Folks" who dominated the East Coast and the "Barbary Pirates" who roamed the West Coast were forced to shift to new shipping routes in the south, where official power was weaker.
They even established new Pirate Cities in the Bantaan Archipelago and more distant waters.
The pirate enterprise along the Old Continent’s coast was visibly in decline.
More precisely, it was the pure "free pirate" forces, unallied with any nation, that were fading.
Only Iron Anchor Bay, the oldest and most heavily fortified of the pirate harbors, had managed to survive for the time being.
However, it had also become a symbol within the pirate community, and it was highly probable that, as Old Hans had said, it would be seen by the Church and the various nations as a thorn in their flesh, a nail in their eye.
When his own uncle and father were in power, their attitude towards these kinsmen had always been one of mutual non-interference.
Now, with York in power, the situation might change.
Right, these North Bay Folks, steadfast in their traditions, didn’t even believe in the Creator—so stubborn they wouldn’t even pay lip service.
At least for now, Iron Anchor Bay is as impregnable as a fortress of solid gold. A large, independent island, it couldn’t be attacked en masse from the mainland. It has fresh water and arable land, enough to be self-sufficient. Entry requires strict identity verification, using the Pirate’s Ten Commandments from one’s own ship as a secret sign to be guided by a Navigator. If anyone tried to barge in recklessly, even an entire fleet could get lost and starve to death. The nearby waters were riddled with hidden reefs, and all safe navigable channels for pirate ships were heavily guarded by large-caliber Fortress Cannons. Plus, there’s the supernatural protection of the Pirate Code. In theory, this is an unbreakable fortress.
At least with the intelligence Byron currently possessed, he couldn’t imagine how the Navy could possibly breach it.
Not having retrieved the Storm Sigil Ring meant he could still be divined by others; the closer he was, the more accurately they could pinpoint his location.
Taking temporary refuge in Iron Anchor Bay, accessible only to pirates, should be safe... right?
His constantly taut nerves relaxed slightly.
The Man-Eating Shark, guided by the Navigator, twisted and turned through fog utterly indecipherable to outsiders for over half an hour.
Suddenly, their surroundings brightened, and they saw sunlight once more.
A vast, bustling port city lay before them.
Sailing ships were moored at the island’s docks: three-masted, two-masted, and single-masted vessels; square-rigged and fore-and-aft rigged; merchantmen, fishing boats, and even standard warships.
Despite their varied sizes and types, they all shared one common feature: a black Pirate Flag fluttering in the wind!
From the walls of fog in other directions, more pirate ships came and went, clearly indicating that there was more than one navigable route into the bay.
Adjacent to the port was a bustling city of considerable scale.
Shipyards, warehouses, markets, taverns, pleasure dens, auction houses, fighting arenas, castles—every conceivable facility was here.
It was more vibrant than the port cities of many mainland kingdoms.
The countless pirate ships that passed through here daily made it the most important supply hub for the Old Continent’s underworld black market.
Swords, firearms, Miracles, rituals for supernatural professions, forbidden knowledge—if it existed on the Old Continent, it could be bought here.
Most of the pirates aboard, who hadn’t seen much of the world, couldn’t help but gawk at the sights.
The Man-Eating Shark had just paid ten Gold Pounds as harbor entry tax to the Navigator, steered into its berth, and lowered the gangplank.
Suddenly, a figure on the pier—dressed in a luxurious silk robe, fingers laden with Gem Rings—rubbed his hands together and grinned at the pirates, revealing a gleaming gold tooth. "Judging by the state of this ship," he began, "you brave warriors must have been through a great battle at sea.
"But, did you gentlemen manage to seize any plunder on this voyage?
"Recently, prices in Iron Anchor Bay have soared—can you afford ship repairs? Do you have money for crew compensation? Are your families’ living expenses covered? Have you saved enough for retirement and property?...
"Why not exchange your spoils with me for some shiny, lovely gold coins?
"We at the Golden Palm Trading Company will surely give you a satisfactory price."
Seeing this company’s emblem, even Salman, despite his cold and cruel nature, couldn’t help but show an expression of mingled disgust and helplessness.
"Greedy and cunning Remit People! What rotten luck! How did we end up running into these shysters this time?"