Chapter 60: Jim the Ale Merchant |
"Whoosh!"
The cold wind howled, and sea spray splashed down like pouring rain.
The sails rose and fell over wave after wave, creating an eerie sense of balance on this vast sea.
Jim stood on the deck, letting the cold wind carrying the salty, damp sea spray beat against his face. His body swayed with the pitching and rolling, maintaining his balance, but his heart was filled with overwhelming joy.
He'd struck it rich!
He, he'd struck it rich!
He'd really recouped his losses! The gamble of coming to these highlands to trade with the dwarves was real! That stockpiled ale could truly fetch a good price!
He, Jim Hawk, thirty-five years old, an ordinary merchant from the Principality of Bonaro, had finally tasted sweetness after enduring bitterness!
Just a few months ago, he was a poor wretch on the verge of bankruptcy. Now, dozens of heavy gold coins jingled in his pocket—wealth he had fought for.
He ran the family's ancestral ale business. The liquor he brewed was mellow and fragrant, earning a small reputation in the local Count's domain.
But everything was destroyed on that summer night three years ago. At a country squire's banquet, the Count's son, Roderick, arrogantly mocked his ale as 'peasant swill.' In a moment of impulse, Jim talked back, inadvertently enraging this powerful, spoiled scion.
Roderick used his influence, colluding with tax collectors and the market guild to arbitrarily lower prices and spread rumors that Jim's ale was adulterated with inferior grain.
Within a few short months, all his orders vanished, and creditors came knocking.
Jim watched helplessly as the ale stockpiled in his warehouse grew moldy and spoiled. He even had to send his wife and children back to live with his father-in-law, who ran a blacksmith shop, and had his children change their surname.
In despair, he sold the ancestral home and his last remaining possessions, exchanging them for a dilapidated cargo ship named the *Seagull*.
Jim had heard that far to the north, the dwarves had established a port called 'Eastern Sea Port.' There, dwarves, who loved liquor as much as life itself, were willing to pay high prices for quality ale.
So, gritting his teeth, Jim bet everything. He loaded twenty barrels of his treasured ale, hired five sailors and three wandering knights as guards, and set sail into the harsh winter seas.
The voyage was a nightmare.
For months, the *Seagull* tossed and turned in storms, nearly sinking to the depths several times.
Food shortages and the constant threat of pirates shadowed them, but Jim persevered through sheer stubbornness.
Upon reaching Eastern Sea Port, the dwarf master brewers tasted his ale. The amber liquid was smooth and sweet on the palate with a powerful finish, immediately making the dwarves slam the table in admiration.
At the trade fair, the dwarves scrambled to buy it all out at three times the market price. Jim netted a clean profit of sixty-eight gold coins!
He redeemed his mortgaged ship and still had most of his wealth left!
Now, the *Seagull* was sailing along the familiar route back home. Jim's chest swelled with immense pride.
This route was dangerous, but the profits were enormous. A few more trips, and he could rebuild his home, even bring Elara and the children back!
The sea breeze brushed gently. A smile tugged at the corner of Jim's mouth, as if he could already see a future of prosperity.
With this shipping route, he would surely become the most famous wealthy man in the region!
By then, even the Count himself would probably want to sit down and discuss trade routes with him.
After all, those nobles, for all their apparent power and status, their thirst for treasure was no less than the legendary evil dragons!
Thinking this, Jim's lips curved up slightly.
"CRASH!"
But at that very moment, a tremendous roar sounded!
The ship lurched violently. Jim staggered and fell. The sounds of wind and waves were instantly drowned out by the sailors' screams.
"The anchor chain snapped!"
"No, something underwater grabbed the hull!"
"..."
The sailors roared, their faces deathly pale.
Strangely, the small merchant ship came to a dead stop on the sea's surface. Despite the wind and waves pushing against it, it remained motionless.
Jim struggled to his feet, his heart sinking, his face turning ashen.
The three wandering knights Jim had hired looked even more horrified. The lead knight pointed towards the bow, his voice trembling, "My gods, heavens above, what... what is that?"
Hearing this, Jim instinctively followed the pointing finger.
On the horizon, a massive head covered in black scales slowly rose. Crimson vertical pupils, like hellfire, locked onto the ship's hull.
It was a...
Black Dragon!
"SPLASH!"
At the same time, sounds erupted all around. Dozens of green-skinned frogmen leaped from the sea, their wet, webbed claws grabbing the ship's railings.
They held refined steel harpoons, their gazes ferocious, hissing and shrieking strangely as they closed in and boarded the vessel.
Jim's joy vanished instantly, his face turning deathly pale.
"How... how can this be here..."
Jim stammered, unable to believe it.
How could there be frogmen here?
And how could there be a Black Dragon?!
In his homeland, no one had ever seen an evil dragon. It seemed these monsters existed only in fairy tales.
But now, a genuine Black Dragon stood before Jim, enough to make his legs tremble.
What wealth, what future—all seemed laughable in the face of true terror.
"THUD!"
Without the slightest hesitation, Jim's knees slammed heavily onto the wet, slippery deck, his movements so fast he didn't even process them.
He bowed his head deeply, almost prostrating himself. His voice warped with extreme fear, "Great True Dragon! Spare... spare our lives! All the gold coins on the ship, all my wealth, I offer it to you! Please... please let our humble lives go!"
With that, Jim trembled as he frantically tried to untie the money pouch at his waist.
Seeing their employer act this way, the other sailors also snapped out of their daze. They followed suit, kneeling in a group, pressing their foreheads to the deck, and began offering up the treasures on their persons.
In fairy tales, evil dragons loved treasure and capturing princesses.
If they could buy their lives with money, they were willing.
Only the three hired knights remained rigid, their faces as pale as paper, cold sweat pouring down. Their hands gripping their swords trembled violently, yet they ultimately failed to draw their blades even an inch.
Meanwhile, the Black Dragon Saga's massive form landed steadily on the sea surface just ahead of the *Seagull*'s bow, sending up huge sprays. The ship rocked violently once more.
The head, covered in cold black scales, lowered slightly. In stiff, commanding Common Tongue laced with undeniable pressure, it spoke, "Ship! Follow! North!"
As the icy voice fell, the Bullywug warriors immediately let out hoarse cries of acknowledgment. Several figures nimbly lunged toward the ship's wheel and rigging, roughly taking over control of the vessel.
No explanation.
Saga had been in these waters for over two months. The ships that passed by were all merchant vessels equipped with alchemical weapons. Saga hadn't dared to touch them, fearing he might provoke serious trouble.
Until he encountered this small, shabby merchant ship that had nothing.
No powerful guards at all, and it had just sailed out from Eastern Sea Port.
You were the one to rob!
So, Saga directly commanded the frogmen to move out and hijack this merchant ship.
No time to waste. Now, of course, they had to leave quickly and head north, back to the Dragon Court!
After all, strictly speaking, this was still the territorial waters of the Dwarven Kingdom.
Enemy territory. Not a good place to linger.