Black Sail
Chapter 41: XLI. Earn on Board

Chapter 41: XLI. Earn on Board

Liszt picked up a flat stone and skimmed it across the lake. Stealing someone’s treasured possessions was akin to killing their parents, Diaz would surely call on the Black Sail and fight to the death.

"I’ve never seen him, and no one in the Thief Guild has either," Swan said. "He only issues orders and manages members through written correspondence. He could be anyone in the guild, perhaps an inconspicuous farmer from a village, or even a high-ranking official within the court. Diaz is just his pen name. Most of the time, it’s more like... an intangible thought that infiltrates the darkness of the Western Continent through letters, claiming a place in the entire underworld."

Although Swan said this, there was not a hint of fear in his green beast-like eyes. He had always tried to expose Diaz, but to no avail.

Under Diaz’s control, the Thief Guild had reached the highest level of a gang organization. It was maxed out and could not be surpassed.

A mature large-scale gang organization.

There wasn’t a need for too many powerful figures, which would only lead to splinter factions and self-aggrandizing armies. Only a very few functional key members were necessary.

For a gang-like organization to grow, it must make people realize that only by continuing to rely on the organization could they form a formidable "force."

Without the organization, they were nothing, just nameless pawns.

The Thief Guild mastered this principle to perfection. There were no famous figures among the official members, nor were there any minor roles like shrimp soldiers and crab generals. Even if there were people with outstanding skills, they remained anonymous, maintaining an extreme balance. It was like a parasite clinging to the capillaries of all the nations on the Western Continent, with only a pen name—Diaz—orchestrating all thieves behind the shadows, managing their training, work positions, and funerals all in one.

In Liszt’s words, it was like deep mud. Even if one wanted to muster forces to annihilate the Thief Guild, there were no breakthrough points. Even if a few dens were cleaned up, it was insignificant.

You search for him across the vast land and find no trace; he strikes you with a divine weapon, coming from nowhere, impossible to guard against.

Assassin’s Creed of the Western Continent, the illegitimate child of Gothic mud.

"Damn."

Liszt had planned to hear some auspicious words to lower his guard. How would he be able to sleep at night now that you’ve painted such a picture?

"Take a break. Being on edge all the time isn’t good for you."

Liszt looked at his left hand. Everything had a price. The Magic Technique Fen released, the materials consumed, they all cost Golden Dragons.

And the price of the Junlin Sword, he still had no idea what it was. As long as it wasn’t someone too powerful, the evil strength of that sword could handle it.

Time went on until evening came, with the setting sun casting a golden-red veil over the forest.

Shadi finally arrived belatedly with Claude and their entourage. For the sake of concealment, they walked here, and at the local station in town, they bought more than twenty horses.

All in all, it cost about fifteen Golden Dragons, but this was a necessary expense. Once Caroso and his group arrived, they had to keep moving without delay.

They hammered wooden stakes into the ground to tie up the horses. The Earl knew how to pick a location; the lakeside was overgrown with dense purple alfalfa, considered a relatively high-quality fodder.

"You didn’t run into any trouble on the way, did you?"

Liszt had to ensure everything was foolproof.

"No, but you’ll have to explain to him what exactly is going on. I was almost driven mad by his questions all the way here."

Shadi took off his wide-brimmed hat to fan himself, exhausted from the horse ride over.

Claude dismounted from his horse, carrying his steel armor with it, and just wore a coarse hemp shirt, his sturdy muscles were showing.

"Captain, what’s the matter? Feel free to speak."

Claude had previously accepted ten Golden Dragons. Although he had been crammed in at the Dream Blue Hotel, he had been wandering and destitute on the East Shore, and he had received no responses from his connections on the Aran side. He had utterly lost hope, and there was nowhere to spend money after going to sea. More than twenty of them had become desperadoes, squandering their days in debauchery, spending the money little by little.

Even so, he wanted to ask for clarification. If they were to be used as cannon fodder or bait, he would definitively refuse.

He came here only after hearing that Liszt would be present.

Liszt thought it would be better to reveal his intentions now rather than wait for the crucial moment and have everything fall through when Beima was realized to be his target.

Moreover, once aboard the Black Sail, there would be no looking back; Claude had to sever all ties with the past.

But to ask Claude to kill Beima’s people outright was to invite failure. At the moment, he was still hoping to earn enough money to wait out the uproar before leaving the nobles he currently served, buy back his title, and take up a modest bureaucratic post.

Having heard the proposition, Claude would surely turn on his heel and leave; he had to be seduced gradually into the plan.

"Do you know about the Beima Duchy’s ship under the Royal Navy, and the military ranks on board?" Liszt posed such a question, knowing that Mr. Chai was a hot candidate for the new King of Beima and that siding with him offered vast promotional prospects. Although a privateer’s ship had nothing to do with the regular military, it was crucial to bait Claude with the possibility of acquiring such ranks, regardless of their actual existence.

The pervasive military power of the Aran officers was deeply ingrained in Claude’s mind. To them, a title was considered more valuable than gold, more important than anything else. Without a title, no amount of money mattered; one had to mix into the noble ranks to honor one’s ancestors.

Such a notion cannot be shifted with a few words alone; it required an appeal to his interests.

Claude did not understand why Liszt was asking this question.

"I don’t understand, what does this have to do with anything?"

Claude was indifferent. Working with pirates simply involved killing, and now that he had fallen to such depths, he had no choice but to comply.

"Of course, it’s related. To be honest, we’re currently working on a big deal. If it succeeds, we will become men of the Royal Navy. We have a ship, and I’m the captain. At a minimum, I should receive an Officer’s title. The key personnel on the ship should also be at least Lieutenants. Even though we are not nobles, holding these military ranks comes with real authority. Being awarded honors and titles is only a matter of time. Do you get my drift?" Liszt placed his hands on Claude’s shoulders.

Claude was completely stunned by this series of sugar-coated promises, as if he was not a Fallen Knight who had sworn allegiance to the nobility but rather a high-level talent poached by another company.

"What exactly is the task?" Claude furrowed his brow, pressing for answers, sensing innately that this Oath of Loyalty was fraught with danger, and not just a simple task of skinning a couple of nobles.

Liszt knew he was wavering and just needed to reason with him and appeal to his emotions.

"We’re to pick someone up. The person is in a situation similar to yours, also a fugitive from Aran." Seeing Claude instinctively straighten up and distance himself a little, Liszt hurriedly mentioned two names, "Caroso, a high-ranking member of the Holy Spirit Church, and Goria, a Heroic Level adventurer, who is escorting him. I’m not lying. Once the person arrives, you’ll know I’m not deceiving you, and we’ll all be friends then, part of the elite circle. What I mean is, you should stop thinking about going back to Aran."

"So you mean we have to kill Aran people next?" Claude’s tone was calm, his hand involuntarily resting on the Sword at his side, remembering yesterday’s commotion at the port, the thorough searches, and embargoes, knowing he wasn’t influential enough to bring about the presence of Constitutional Soldiers. Over the past week, he had of course inquired about Liszt, the local strongman of the East Shore. Now it appeared he had taken on a big job that drew the Aran Constitutional Soldiers.

"Yes, my friend. Hesitation leads to chaos. Leading so many men, where else can you go? Miss this chance, and you’ll either have to become a pirate elsewhere or return to Aran to face the consequences. That’s the son of a Great Noble, with an inheritance and a title at stake; do you think he would let you off? Complete this job, and given time, you can return home in glory. Wouldn’t that be more impressive than before?" Liszt said no more, having made his point loud enough for the other twenty-some men to hear.

Shadi was speechless. The captain could really talk, with promises of military titles, honors, and titles, and now a triumphant return, which seemed as likely as Heaven Port. Did he believe his own words? He could make stones come to life with his stories.

The setting sun was blood-red.

Claude glanced at the twenty-some soldiers following him, each with a look of longing in their eyes.

He swallowed hard and then sighed deeply, driving his Sword into the ground.

Liszt knew he had succeeded.

The hundred or so mismatched men on the ship were just fodder, expendable in battle.

Getting someone like Claude on board was what could further expand the reach of Black Sail.

And now, he had roped him into Black Sail.

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