Black Sail
Chapter 77: LXXVII. Real Man

Chapter 77: LXXVII. Real Man

Beima Duchy, western part.

The Great Wall and its chasm.

Here lies a spectacular view, not of natural mountains but of a historical relic from the Ancient Era, a manmade massive wall with evident signs of construction.

Its origin is untraceable, remaining an inscrutable enigma.

The wall stretches horizontally for several dozen miles, rising hundreds of meters high and several hundred meters wide.

It blocks the only access between steep mountain passes on both sides, the obligatory route for those wanting to reach Beima Duchy from the inland; otherwise, one would have to traverse snow mountains with elevations of tens of thousands of meters. These mountains are extremely cold, with the lowest elevations reaching four to five thousand meters, and are home to various dangerous magic beasts, effectively a no-go zone for humans.

Such treacherous geography allowed Beima Duchy to remain independent and not be divided into a province by the Emperor.

Although the Emperor once asked the puppet king of Beima, controlled by Beima, to cede the wall to Aran,

despite being foolish, he decisively refused—anyone capable of basic math could see the folly in giving away one’s armor, for wouldn’t they just be hung out to dry?

The Emperor hadn’t anticipated that his puppet would dare defy him, but mounting another military campaign was a horrifyingly expensive proposition. With the rising status and budget demands of the empire’s internal security and constitutional forces, even dominating this place would require years of administration to break even. Weighing this, he decided to let it be for the moment.

After all, the coinage rights had already been plundered, he still needed to collect his taxes.

The wall, entirely white, had transformed over the years under the locals’ care. Its exterior now gleamed with green, covered with many deciduous creeping plants; it was quite spectacular.

Most astonishing of all, it turned out that inside the wall, there had been countless corridors, staircases, and stone chambers excavated since the Ancient Era, capable of housing millions of people.

Scholars deduced from its internal structure and the horizontal rectangular windows that this place had been used as a military fortress.

Naturally, the scholar was ridiculed mercilessly.

His comments were utterly superfluous.

Because at this very moment, Beima Duchy also had a hundred thousand troops stationed here, in full readiness.

Due to close trade with East Shore and Far East Islands, the city by the wall was also bustling with life, serving as a resting point for traveling merchants.

Many taverns opened near the checkpoint, fiercely competing.

Beima Duchy could earn tariffs from both land-based and sea-based merchants traveling through the wall, resulting in a windfall akin to both Emperor Qin Shi Huang and a clone riding a rocket, profiting from both sides.

The city by the wall.

Inside a tavern.

The decor here made Yisu Girl Jin Mier feel as if she’d returned to hundreds of years ago, stone seats, stone tables, except for the chandelier and fireplace that bore slight touches of contemporary aesthetics, it emphasized a raw aesthetic.

Yisu Girl Jin Mier had never seen Zahak in such disarray.

She had found him on the road from Londen City to Lavender Town; he had completely lost his physical strength, collapsing at the roadside, bleeding profusely, in a critical condition.

A doctor from the Constitutional Army who accompanied the troops had to provide emergency treatment all night to pull him back from death’s door.

His body was covered in flayed flesh, cuts, and crossbow wounds— it was hard to imagine what sort of enemy he had encountered. Now, still bandaged up, a scar on his face had become a permanent mark, instantly giving him a fierce appearance.

At that moment, Zahak was drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

He received a letter from the Imperial Hawk of the Constitutional Guard.

Zahak didn’t need to return to Imperial City anymore; he was demoted two major ranks and was now Lieutenant Zahak, assigned to a small border town for clerical work in recruiting for the Constitutional Army.

His life was effectively over.

"Even my sword was stolen."

Zahak burst into laughter, gulping down strong liquor. It was a teaching gift from his mentor. What face did he have left to meet the Aran Sword King? How could he dare claim to be that great man’s student?

For Jin Mier, it didn’t matter much. Although she was demoted to the lowest rank of constitutional soldier, at least she was exiled alongside Zahak, who still had his capabilities and could make a comeback.

"Don’t think like that, this is only temporary. The day they run short of hands above, they will call us back."

Jin Mier consoled.

"Aran has too many capable people, everyone is climbing up. If I step down, someone will immediately take my place, unless there’s a great defeat and an urgent need for manpower. Yet, how easy can that be? The Emperor reigns over the Western Continent and rarely loses battles... it’s all over; everything is finished."

Zahak gave a bitter smile and ordered another round of drinks.

"Since that’s the case, we might as well just lead ordinary lives. Pyapan is dead; we two should just stick together."

Jin Mier blushed slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

It seemed to be a rebound from hitting rock bottom, sparking her fighting spirit.

"That must not be."

Zahak, in order to achieve his goal, could stoop to any level, however shameless it seemed. He would even seek help from his former teacher, staying by his teacher’s side as an attendant if necessary, rather than doing clerical work day in and day out.

"Let’s go back to the Imperial City. I want to find my teacher."

Zahak made up his mind. He had a target; he wanted to kill the Black Sword Netherflame of the Imperial Guard, but his current skills alone weren’t enough.

Since that was the case, he would use that disfigured face as a stepping stone, killing him and his father’s murderer wasn’t out of the question.

At that moment.

In Aran.

William was now a court mage, a railway operator, enjoying unparalleled glory.

Back in the day.

He was the ignored engineering student at school, who always quietly ate at parties, never getting the chance to go to the bedrooms with girls.

But now.

A luxurious bedroom, even larger than his previous living room, furnished all in high-grade wood. Whether it be the interior decor or the accessories, all were designed top-notch, modified countless times by top designers.

Now he had everything he wanted, whenever he wanted it.

But humans.

Always haunted lifelong by the things we couldn’t have when we were young.

His college crush, whom William had located through his status. However, unfortunately, even with his current power, he couldn’t force anything; neither could that magician.

Sharon was extremely clever and chose to seek protection under the number one religious figure in the Western Continent.

Many years ago, she had joined the Eternal Sect as a nun.

In the Western Continent, no one dared to touch people from the Eternal Sect, not even a nun.

But today, William had obtained an opportunity to interact with an Eternal Sect priest—although he truly didn’t care about this priest—the effort was only for the priest’s retinue member, Sharon.

He looked at his elegant reflection in the full-length mirror, uncertain if this attire would impress Sharon.

At noon.

The priest arrived as scheduled, picking the most upscale restaurant in town for the meeting, accompanied by two nuns dressed in black Holy Professors’ attire, wearing nun’s hats, which somehow added a hint of forbidden desire—at least for William.

During the conversation, William’s mind was entirely on Sharon. Her azure eyes and light golden short hair, her exceedingly beautiful face and impressive figure would stand out as stunning anywhere.

Soon, an opportunity arose; the priest excused himself to the restroom.

"Sharon, I..."

Before William could finish.

Sharon had once discovered a bounty order during a church visit in Beima Duchy, recognizing who it was.

She had always known where Liszt was and what he had done, silently keeping tabs on him.

"I’m sorry, I’m not interested in traitors and cowards; I only like real men."