68: Chapter 68 The Passengers of the Sea Dog

The group quickly hurried to Deepwater Port.

The Sea Dog's hull was not large, resembling a caravel, and it didn't stand out much among the sailboats lined up at the end of the port's pier.

Its oak keel was coated with a layer of dark grey anti-moth paint, and the figurehead was a snarling sea dog with a trident in its mouth.

The sails were made of thick, off-white canvas, embroidered with the sacred emblem of the Storm Temple—a storm eye pierced by three lightning bolts.

The fabric around the emblem was older than the rest, clearly having weathered many storms.

The deck was piled with supply crates covered in tarpaulins, and a few sailors were securing them with thick hemp ropes, their movements swift and silent, marking them as veterans.

The captain was a semi-bald old man in his fifties, his bronze skin etched with the marks of time from sea winds and salt.

His right arm bore an old burn scar extending from his elbow to his wrist, along with several sword wounds.

He stood by the helm, puffing on an unlit pipe, sizing up the boarding Adventurers with a caution typical of an old captain.

"Three teams, that's enough people."

The captain folded his telescope and tucked it into his belt, his voice rough and low but every word clear.

"The ship has enough supplies and fresh water. The cabin is divided into upper and lower decks, with half the people in each, and the ladies have a separate room."

"If we need to stop for supplies midway, there are only two small islands we can try our luck at."

"If the winds and waves are unfavorable, a one-way trip could take three weeks. If you get seasick, get your seasickness medicine ready quickly, otherwise it'll be a mess everywhere, and it's too much trouble to clean up."

Jinbao took a small copper box from his tool kit, pinched out a newly purchased anti-seasickness pill, popped it into his mouth, and handed the box to Selina beside him.

Selina took it, sniffed it, and her brows furrowed, but she swallowed one anyway.

The others were fine, and Richard was completely unaffected; he never got seasick.

Then Richard checked his equipment again.

The dwarven roaring battleaxe hung at his left waist, the dimensional bag was hidden inside his armor, the halberd was strapped to the outside of his backpack, and the horned helmet was latched onto the top.

The Mage Armor and True Strike scrolls had both been re-checked to ensure the magic seals were intact, then placed back into the most accessible side pocket.

Not long after boarding, Richard saw the other two teams.

One of them was called the [Silverleaf Sentinels], consisting entirely of 8 half-elves.

The team leader was Sailan, a Silver-rank Adventurer, and he had a twin sister named Vera.

Their nickname was the "Children of the Twin Leaves," and both were Rangers; their sword dance and archery were perfectly coordinated, capable of handling most wilderness enemies.

The team also included Evelyn "The Raven," a half-elf sorcerer rumored to possess ancient fae blood; the remaining 5 were all Bronze-rank Adventurers, each a skilled Archer.

There was also a temporarily assembled team, consisting of history enthusiasts and guards, totaling 7 people.

Anthropologist Edmund Gray was the nominal leader of the team, well-versed in ancient history and also an excellent swordsman.

The dwarf "Cornerstone" Durin, an expert in ancient architecture and masonry; the halfling Finn, a translation scholar and artifact expert, and 4 other Bronze-rank Adventurers with some strength, hired as guards.

The half-elves of the [Silverleaf Sentinels] were very cold and didn't greet Richard and his group at all.

The other group, however, was very enthusiastic, and Richard soon got to know the anthropologist Gray.

At that time, he was leaning against the ship's rail watching the coastline recede, when a gentle and extremely articulate voice came from behind him:

"Hello, noble Adventurer. Journeys at sea are always dull; any interest in hearing me tell the history of Orian Island?"

Richard turned around and saw a man in his early thirties.

He wore a dark brown scholar's robe, appearing to contain a set of fine chainmail underneath, and a well-maintained longsword hung at his waist, the leather grip on the hilt worn into the shape of the user's knuckles.

His tan hair was naturally curly, and he wore copper-rimmed round glasses on the bridge of his nose, his gaze friendly but squinting slightly when looking at things.

Richard said gently, "Of course, it would be my honor. Let me introduce myself first..."

Richard and Gray soon got to chatting.

Gray spoke with an unobjectionable sense of tact, appearing very much like a high noble.

He preferred not to gossip about others' secrets, but rather talk about things he had studied for half his life, and when the topic turned to Orian Island, he was as excited as if he had drunk fine wine.

The two sat on a pile of ropes by the ship's rail, the sea breeze whipping Gray's scholar robe.

He used the tip of his scabbard to draw a rough diagram on the deck: an island, with a circle drawn on it representing the city, and several radial lines drawn inside the circle.

"Orian was no ordinary lost kingdom."

As Gray spoke, a light that only a true enthusiast would have shone in his eyes behind the lenses.

"Ordinary people might think 'enslaving demons' is some kind of dark taboo, but from a historical perspective, the Orian understanding of Abyss contract structures was far ahead of any other civilization at the time."

"They weren't worshipping demons, nor were they making deals with them; they treated demons as a kind of independent energy source."

"Just like using water power to drive a mill, only it wasn't water driving the mill, but the magic and soul power of demons."

He used his scabbard to draw a few smaller circles inside the circle representing the city.

"Low-tier demons were used as energy, directly extracting magic to power the city's core facilities."

"Mid-tier demons were crafted into guards and war puppets; historical records frequently mention demons bound in metal shells."

"High-tier demons had astonishing power, but they too ended up as prisoners."

"The Orians enslaved several Abyss Lords, using their magic to extend the lifespans of the Orian royal family. There are records that the last king of Orian lived for nearly four hundred years."

"What went wrong in the end?" Richard asked curiously.

"There is a widely circulated theory that says... a certain imprisoned powerful lord, before being drained dry, finally found a loophole in the incomplete Laws of Dominion and sacrificed itself to summon an existence far more powerful than itself."

"Most scholars who study this history believe it was a Demon Prince who descended in person."

"You can imagine what it meant for a civilization that relied on enslaving demons to run its entire infrastructure when all the enslaved demons regained their free will in the same instant."

"City defenses collapsed in an extremely short time, and demons slaughtered wildly inside the city. No wall could stop an attack that erupted from within."

"It is said that all the Orians, regardless of age or gender, had their souls harvested by the enraged Prince."