"Alright then. We'll find somewhere onshore to sell them after we land."

Gauss nodded, offering no objection.

He already knew loot from killed monsters would be split;

it was nothing new.

He didn't begrudge the expense. Although the fleet had not contributed much in combat, without them Gauss's squad couldn't have stayed at sea and operated for long.

This ship was probably more expensive than it looked. According to Fourn, the hull was built from a special ironwood that prevented monsters from gnawing it open, so the construction and subsequent maintenance were not cheap.

And if they had no money, why would the fleet risk aiding Gauss's squad to go out to sea for a commission? Would they go out of sheer hatred for goblins and risk their lives for nothing?

Of course not.

Thanks to Gauss's presence, none of the sailors were injured this time, and they unexpectedly gained a payout. Every face on board showed genuine joy.

The average share was pocket change to Gauss, but for the sailors it was a sizable gain.

A feast of meat, several rounds of heavy drinking at the tavern, or a few decent new clothes for their wives and children—this windfall would let these men, who risked their lives at sea year after year, live comfortably for a while after returning.

Their gratitude and satisfaction were real.

You could tell from the way they’d quietly shifted their address for him from "Mr. Gauss" to "Lord Gauss."

"Set sail!"

After the brief interlude, the Seagull adjusted its sails, cut through the waves again, and headed into the deep blue.

The mood on deck lightened considerably.

Between tasks the sailors kept glancing at Gauss, who stood at the bow scanning the horizon, and their expressions were full of reassurance.

With such a powerful figure on board, the rest of the voyage seemed less to fear.

The journey continued.

As the Seagull pushed deeper, the surrounding sea subtly changed.

The water shifted from bright blue to a deeper, inkier hue.

Under the distant sky at sunset, the jagged outlines of ominous reef rocks could be seen.

"Up ahead is the Black Reef zone."

Fourn explained.

"Hmm."

Gauss nodded.

That meant their destination was near.

The Tidal Cavern lay on a large island near the reef zone.

At first, Gauss had been surprised why the reef zone wasn't in shallow coastal waters. After asking, he learned that while many reefs do cluster near shore, some types of barrier reef can extend into deeper seas, forming reef belts far from land.

Yet another miscellaneous fact filed away.

"We'll stop sailing for today," Fourn continued, pointing toward the reef outline growing darker in the dusk.

"Navigating through the reef zone by night is too dangerous—hidden currents and submerged rocks are deadlier than monsters. We'll drop anchor here for the night. We'll head to the mission site early tomorrow morning."

Gauss nodded in understanding.

Night fell.

The nighttime sea and sky were completely different from daytime.

The surface became pitch-black, the warmth of the sun gone, and even the sea breeze carried a bone-chilling cold.

Captain Fourn arranged a watch;

the rest of the crew went down beneath the deck to the galley for dinner.

The meal centered on the fish they’d caught during the day, supplemented with vegetables, fruits, and meats bought on land.

The somewhat portly cook, though absent on deck earlier, had heard from the sailors about Gauss and the others’ bravery. Wearing a broad smile, he prepared an extra hearty meal for Gauss and his group.

No one complained about the special treatment.

In these perilous seas, strong men naturally carried privileges—especially those who brought benefits.

"Tomorrow should be good weather," Captain Fourn sat beside Gauss.

"If all goes well, we should pass the reef belt and reach the Tidal Cavern by tomorrow morning."

When the first pale strip of dawn appeared on the eastern horizon, the Seagull woke from its sleep.

Gauss finished washing and climbed onto the deck. Captain Fourn, the first mate, and the crew of the last watch were already waiting at the rail, watching the sky and sea conditions.

As Fourn had predicted, it truly was a good morning.

The last night's winds and waves had calmed.

The sea surface was relatively smooth, and a thin mist shrouded the waters in the dim morning light.

"Mr. Gauss, you're up so early? We haven't started sailing yet—you could sleep a bit more," Captain Fourn said when he spotted Gauss.

"Got used to it. Can't fall back asleep even if I try."

Gauss never overslept during commissions.

It had become a habit.

Even though Fourn had said they could sleep in, Gauss's internal clock still woke him at the same hour.

After enjoying a bit of sea air on deck,

the Seagull's breakfast was quickly brought out.

Staples were hard bread and crackers.

These loaves were baked rock-hard so they would last. In a pinch they could even be used as blunt weapons.

What shocked Gauss, however, was how the sailors ate them: besides soaking the hard bread in hot fish porridge or soup, many sailors even softened theirs in ale.

A strange pairing.

But remembering shipboard practice, diluted low-proof booze often served like drinking water.

Freshwater spoils quickly at sea, while fermented drinks preserve better. Swap the ale mentally for water and it made sense.

The senior crew and Gauss's party had a more luxurious spread—cured meats, cheese, dried fruits, even a few apples and oranges.

Breakfast ended amid rising sunlight and sailors loudly drinking.

Full and ready, the sailors tidied up and took their stations.

"Anchor up! Hoist the sails!" Captain Fourn strode to the wheel and shouted his commands.

The capstan turned, the heavy iron anchor was hoisted with a crash of water,

the crew called out rhythmically and pulled the lines together, the great sails slowly rose along the mast to catch the morning breeze,

and the Seagull moved once more.

Some time later,

Gauss watched the reefs not far off the port and starboard and frowned.

Huge black reef rocks overlapped like scales, towering several meters above the surface in twisted pillar shapes;

most of their mass lay below the waves, only revealing ominous shadows as surf slid over them.

The waves smashed and rolled between the reefs, creating countless whitecaps and visible whirlpools that could easily capsize a small boat.

The Seagull bucked and swayed in the chop.

Gauss stood planted like a rooted tree, firmly braced on deck,

but his worry wasn't for himself—it was for the ship.

"Captain Fourn, are we really okay sailing through here?"

Gauss kept watch on the dark currents below.

Even if disaster struck, he had several ways to escape;

those were stopgap measures, though. It was best to get through safely.

"Don't worry, Mr. Gauss. This route looks dangerous, but we sail here often. We're very familiar with it."

Fourn understood the concerns of a passenger on his first voyage.

They were a professional crew.

Under Gauss's vigilant gaze, the Seagull crept through the dense reef cluster with no mishap.

The sailors' skills were perfectly displayed: under Fourn's precise commands and constant position calls from the lookouts, the Seagull moved like a nimble dancer, weaving skillfully through the jagged reef maze.

"Tighten the foremast sail, port side is taking wind—we'll edge past that rock."

"Prepare to turn! Hard rudder starboard! Ease the mainsail! Free the sheets!"

Thanks to tight coordination, the Seagull eventually navigated the hazardous reef area and reached a relatively calm stretch of water.

Gauss finally relaxed.

The Adventurers Guild had been reliable;

the fleet they contacted was professional.

If he had tried to hire a vessel himself, he likely wouldn't have found such skilled sailors—either he would have been ignored or ended up with brutes who would have steered the ship straight to the bottom in these seas.

As he pondered that, a huge island outline gradually came into view ahead.

Unlike the small islets and reefs from before, this island was vast, with a high central peak and steep flanks;

black reef rock jutted out along its edges.

Facing their direction, it had a massive cleft as if split by a giant axe,

sea water surged into the gap—that was their destination, the Tidal Cavern.

"We've arrived. That's the Tidal Cavern," Captain Fourn pointed at the swelling mouth of the cleft.

"The tide is rising now;

it's not safe to enter. We'll anchor on the leeward side in a sheltered spot. After the tide ebbs this afternoon, it will be safer to move in."

Gauss chose to follow the expert's advice.

The Seagull circled the island and anchored in a shallow bay where they could still hear distant waves pounding the island's cliffs.

While they waited, Gauss's squad completed last-minute preparations:

checking weapons, organizing gear, confirming battle plans.

By afternoon, the tide, as Fourn predicted, began to slowly recede and the waters smoothed.

The mudflats at the Tidal Cavern entrance widened.

Areas previously submerged emerged again.

Gauss raised his spyglass and saw shore-running goblins cavorting on the exposed flats.

Many goblins were pushing small boats and rafts out of the cave,

the retreating tide let the goblins come out to play.

There—he'd finally found them!

Lowering the glass, he looked at Fourn and nodded.

"The time is right."

When everyone confirmed they were ready, the Seagull moved steadily toward the Tidal Cavern.

Their approaching ship soon drew the attention of a small number of nearby goblin pirates.

On shore, goblins with keen eyesight pointed repeatedly toward the horizon and chattered excitedly to their comrades.

More and more shore-running goblins spotted the Seagull.

To goblins, this was like a pie falling from the sky. They were ready to leave the reef belt and try their luck at intercepting a passing ship.

Who would have expected such a fine vessel would pass right by after they stepped out the door?

Afraid of missing this delivered bounty,

under their leader's call the shore-running goblin pirates poured out of the cave in swarms—small boats and rafts like ants flooding the sea.

Each tiny craft held only two to four goblins, but there were so many that the scene was spectacular.

Their light watercraft rode the waves and the underwater boosts provided by goblins who were adept swimmers, racing across the surface.

A few sturdier small boats at the forefront were even pulled by several domesticated large swordfish, making them astonishingly fast.

"They're coming!"

A lookout shouted the alarm.

Truly professional thieves—when they spotted prey they reacted faster than dogs to meat—no, faster than sharks to blood.

"All hands to stations! Prepare to repel boarders! Bolt cannons ready!"

"Show these green-skinned sea dogs what we're made of!"

"Yeah!!!"

The sailors took their places and roared in excitement.

The previously calm Seagull suddenly grew tense and eager.

Fourn nodded with satisfaction.

He knew their enthusiasm wasn't entirely his doing—Gauss and his squad had given them confidence.

Gauss's group, compared to the busy crew, remained composed.

"Their numbers are even larger than I expected," Gauss squinted, estimating.

The dense flotilla likely numbered in the hundreds.

A pirate band of this size was not something ordinary fishing boats or merchantmen could repel.

They couldn't outrun those swordfish-drawn "speedboats."

If entangled, the Seagull would soon be surrounded by countless small boats and rafts, ending up boxed in and doomed.

While the squad exchanged quiet words, the foremost speedboats surged in.

Even faster than the boats were the attacks they launched.

"Swish—swish—swish—!"

Sharpened bone spears and harpoons flew from the goblin craft toward the Seagull.

They also hurled many of their homemade "stink bombs."

Clay jars filled with rotten entrails and unknown slime burst on deck, releasing a stench that made heads spin.

"Raise shields! Dodge!" Fourn shouted.

The sailors lifted wooden shields or took cover behind the bulwarks.

A few who couldn't avoid the spray were splattered and turned pale and nauseous.

"Gust!"

Calm at the stern, Gauss planted his staff and a powerful gust radiated from him, sweeping forward and knocking most of the hurled jars off course into the sea.

"Fire the bolt cannons!"

Seizing the moment, Fourn ordered.

"Bang! Shatter!"

The bow and stern bolt cannons thundered. Thick bolts screamed through the air, aimed at the swordfish towing the speedboats.

The swordfish that had slowed to make throwing attacks easier suffered.

Some bolts pierced their bodies;

bright red blood blossomed across the surface.

Still, the shore-running goblins didn't back down.

Perhaps their frequent plunders of similarly sized ships made them careless.

The scent of blood only fueled their frenzy.

More rafts surrounded the Seagull.

From above it was a spectacular sight.

Like ants swarming a beetle.

Thud!

A bolt with a rope tore through the air and struck cleanly through the Seagull's bulwark.

Yes—the bolt attack had come from the goblins.

After looting fishing and merchant vessels, they salvaged small bolt-launching devices and reused them.

Gauss looked toward a nearby vessel—the only respectable large boat among the goblins.

Slightly smaller than the Seagull, it looked like it had once been a merchant ship,

but its sails were removed and replaced with high platforms bristling with poles;

goblin archers stood on top.

Its propulsion still relied on restrained sea beasts.

This was a modified goblin "mothership"!

Well, well.

Gauss raised an eyebrow.

He had to admit some respect for these goblins’ ingenuity in using transportation.

The goblin mothership plowed through the waves and closed fast.

"Shit, no!" Fourn's shocked, pained eyes watched as the goblin mothership showed no sign of stopping and slammed into the Seagull.

Boom!!!

Crash!

Both ships violently rocked.

After the tremors subsided, the goblin mothership had pierced the Seagull's port bulwark.

Goblin after goblin leapt from its masts onto the Seagull's deck without waiting.

Others from rafts boarded from all sides—climbing ropes to scale up, or leaping onto the mothership and using it as a springboard to attack the Seagull.

Aria had already released her prepared spell.

Seeds burst into vines and grew rapidly;

thick tendrils bound the two joined ships together.

Now even if the goblins wanted to flee, they couldn't do so quickly.

"Kill them!"

"Rip these bastard green-skins apart!"

Seething with rage, Fourn drew his sword and charged first.

He only wanted to pulverize the goblins that had hurt his beloved ship.

On the other side, goblins leaped aboard the Seagull en masse.

The first wave of boarding combat erupted!

The strong sailors still had an advantage over ordinary goblins.

At first Gauss didn't move;

he stood at the stern watching the battle unfold.

Only when he saw many goblins aboard the Seagull and other connected boats, confirming his trap had worked, did he relax.

Goblin swimmers were hard to deal with at sea.

But once on the Seagull, escape was no longer their choice.

Gauss pushed off lightly.

He drifted into the center of the skirmish like a feather.

He didn't immediately swing his sword;

he simply stood there, and an invisible pressure spread outward.

Wind seemed to accelerate around him!

The nearest goblins suddenly panicked;

their movements froze, and their bodies started to tremble uncontrollably.

Sailors seized the chance—curved blades flashed and goblins were cut down and thrown to the deck.

The goblins affected were not just those few unlucky ones.

Most of the goblins present—even those who hadn't actually seen Gauss and shouldn't have known of his presence—felt a sudden heaviness in their minds, then were wrapped by an invisible chill.