CHAPTER 211: CHAPTER 186: PIRATE ATTACK_4

Lance had a calm demeanor. How could he not have thought of this?

"But pirates are too dangerous. What if you get hurt, my lord? It’s better if I lead the Guards into battle while you command from the rear."

The old captain, unaware of Lance’s true strength, wore a troubled expression. He didn’t want his Commander to be in danger—the responsibility was too much for him to bear.

"If I don’t fight on the front lines, then I have no right to lead them!" Lance declared with a sweeping wave of his hand. "Enough said. I will be right here."

This scene struck awe into those present. The sailors, whose passions had seemingly been extinguished, felt them flare up once more. An inexplicable power surged through their bodies.

It wasn’t for rewards or military exploits; their only desire was to fight alongside that man.

"Lord Lance, we’re not afraid of pirates!"

"Exactly, my sword isn’t just for show."

"..."

Even the old captain, usually so composed in tough times, couldn’t help but feel impassioned. If only the bureaucrats and nobles of the past had been like Lord Lance, Hamlet might not have come to this!

Lance adopted an air of irrefutable authority. "Carry out my orders immediately. Inform the Guards, calm the people. There will be plenty of opportunities for you later."

"Listen to Lord Lance! We’ll chop those guys up later; for now, get to work!" the old captain called out.

Although the sailors were eager to kill some pirates, they dared not disobey Lord Lance’s orders. They quickly set to work, and the entire ship suddenly buzzed with activity. News of what they had just witnessed spread rapidly.

If it had been an ordinary merchant ship hearing of a pirate attack, chaos would likely have ensued by now.

But this ship displayed an unprecedented level of calm.

In the lower decks, the common folk prayed for Lord Lance, all staying obediently in their places without any sign of disorder.

The Guards, muskets in hand, marched out and formed defensive lines at every passageway. Fear was absent from their faces. Instead, they displayed an unusual steadfastness, even a hint of fanaticism.

Everyone believed unconditionally—in the figure standing at the bow, sword in hand.

Paracelsus, in her upper-deck cabin, naturally heard the commotion. Upon coming out, she too witnessed the scene.

These past two days, apart from studying her books, she had been changing dressings for the few wounded men. Through this, she had also heard stories about the camp and this man’s actions.

His current stance, combined with everything else, made him truly... She didn’t know what that man was thinking, but his actions alone were dazzling enough.

Thinking this, she couldn’t help but walk over.

"What are you doing here? I can’t look after you," Lance said, noticing the doctor approaching, dressed in that peculiar outfit and wearing a Beak Mask.

"Don’t underestimate women. I can help you," Paracelsus replied, drawing a uniquely shaped Short Sword. She then produced a vial; the viscous Potion swaying within looked rather ominous.

Lance felt a headache coming on. He shouldn’t have idly chatted with her about weaponizing corrosive Potions. He just hoped she wouldn’t damage his ship.

Still, this might be for the best. It was a chance to see her true strength. Besides, as long as she didn’t die, he could always heal her. At worst, it would just require a bit more of his attention to look after her.

"Lord Lance!" The old captain approached, brandishing a curved sword, a musket tucked into his belt.

"What are you doing up here? If you get hurt, my ship will be without a captain."

"You’re here, my lord. If I were to shrink back, none of the men would respect me," the old captain said. His eyes were slightly glazed over. He seemed to be reliving the passionate days of his youth, eager to prove himself once more.

"Don’t underestimate these old bones, my lord. My sword is still sharp! I’ve been itching to cut down those scoundrels; it’s just a shame I haven’t had the chance."

Despite his words, he was ready to protect Lance, even at the cost of his own life—whether to answer to Walter or for the sake of the hope he still cherished in his heart.

At this thought, the old captain’s expression turned fierce as he gazed towards the rapidly approaching pirate ship.

Lance had nothing to say to that. Pirates might be dangerous to ordinary people, but to him, they were merely worthless grunts. This was a good chance to test the power he’d gained since advancing to the Elite rank.