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Horizon of Glory

Welcome To the High Seas of Adventure. In an age where the world is a vast, uncharted canvas, and the horizon is a promise of untold riches and peril, a new breed of conqueror emerges. The Age of Discovery, a time of great ships and thunderous cannons. A testament to human ambition. Byron's journey begins in the aftermath of the Wars of the Roses, a time of blood and fire that forges kings and consumes empires. Armed with a mysterious "Navigation Logbook," he ventures into the heart of the unknown, where the line between the mundane and the magical blurs. Great beings from epochs past slumber beneath the waves, their legends whispered in the creaking of ancient ships and the roar of cannons. Join Byron as he carves out a kingdom from the chaos, his fleet a specter of doom to those who dare challenge his rule. Prepare to be swept away by the tides of history and the winds of magic in this epic tale of adventure, power, and the eternal quest for glory.

BoredIdler · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
17 Chs

HoG - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Wanted

The ideal wind speed for warships to navigate is typically between 10 to 40 knots. Below 10 knots, sails struggle to catch the wind, even with water added for weight, and above 40 knots—equivalent to Force 8—all sails must be reefed, and the ship must seek shelter immediately.

At that moment, the northeasterly sea breeze was gaining strength. The wind, now at Force 6 and exceeding 22 knots, not only dispersed the sea fog but also whipped up large swaths of white foam on the surface. The turbid waves overlapped, creating countless undulating hills on the sea. The warship, as if climbing a mountain, braved the treacherous high seas and charged fiercely from the northeast.

Byron's assessment was accurate; it was indeed a fifth-rate cruiser from the Hastings Kingdom's Channel Fleet—the "Severe." On the significantly taller sterncastle of the warship, in comparison to the pirate ship "Maneater," a gentleman donned in a silver wig and a turtle-buttoned suit lowered his brass telescope and issued commands to the officers beside him with a chill in his voice:

"Sail with the tailwind, full speed ahead. We must not allow any remnants of the Lancastrian party to escape. I've specially invited a 'Prophet' from the High Tower sequence to perform astrological divination, pinpointing an offshore coordinate in the North Sea. If we arrive in time, neither the 'Son of the Demon' with a bounty of 5,000 gold pounds nor the 'Pelican' attempting to transfer the Lancastrian party's assets will escape. Anyone who dares to oppose the White Rose York family will have nowhere to hide, not just in the Hastings Kingdom, but across the entire sea!"

Beside him, on the mizzenmast, a hand-drawn wanted poster was securely nailed. It depicted none other than Byron. As the 'Navigation Log' suggested, in a world with supernatural abilities, there is no shortage of methods to confirm life and death and track locations. Professionals such as "Hunters" from the Wilderness sequence, "Mediums" from the Graveyard sequence, and "Prophets" from the High Tower sequence are all adept in these arts.

After the York family seized power, the public narrative was that the Lancastrian bloodline had been extinguished in that storm. No one in the world would have the credentials to challenge their inheritance rights and legitimacy. This is understandable; victors often embellish history. However, behind the scenes, a select few had already seen the investigation reports on their arch-nemesis, the Red Rose, compiled by a pack of hounds comprising supernatural beings from various sequences. They promptly initiated a covert and intensive hunt for Byron, the last of the Lancasters!

While offering a substantial bounty within the navy, they also branded him with the alias "Son of the Demon," a sinister moniker for a wanted criminal. They feared that this thorn in their side, this splinter in their flesh, wouldn't perish quickly enough. This could also be attributed to the activation of Byron's title, "Enemy of the Yorks! Pursued forever, death or no end!"

Freedom seemed distant, while the Yorks were ever-present.

Byron, who had narrowly escaped death at the hands of pirates, was still far from safety. On the "Severe," Lieutenant Colonel Harold, the captain, unaware of Byron's true identity and significance, hesitantly stepped forward to advise, his neck stiff with tension:

"But, Baron, the North Sea's weather in late autumn is notoriously unpredictable. The aftereffects of that peculiar storm five days ago still linger. The wind speed on the sea continues to rise, and the waves have reached nearly 2 meters in height. Pursuing an enemy ship in such conditions is perilous. Once the wind exceeds 40 knots, seeking shelter will be too late."

His cautious demeanor was a stark contrast to the dignified aura of a captain who held his crew's lives in his hands. But who could fault him when the self-appointed commander, Baron Adonis, was from the newly ascendant York family?

Even though he was merely a hastily ennobled, peripheral member used to bolster the family's influence, he was still from the sole royal family recognized by the "Iron Law of the Crown · Magna Carta" within the Hastings Kingdom after the Lancastrian genocide!

Upon hearing this, Baron Adonis, wearing a silver wig and whose azure eyes, like Byron's, gleamed with a cold light, fixed his gaze on Captain Harold for a moment. Contrary to expectations, the York did not exhibit the mindless arrogance typical of spoiled nobles. Instead, he gradually softened the frostiness on his face and offered Harold a genuine smile:

"Captain, I was too hasty. Please know that I hold your authority on this ship in the highest regard. But let me remind you: during the decisive battle five days ago, your fifth-rate ship was not permitted to engage in the fleet duel of fourth-rate battleships and above. Had you claimed a few Lancastrian heads then, you'd likely be in the capital now, receiving your knighthood from His Majesty. Ask yourself, having missed one opportunity, do you wish to let another slip by? I imagine, as a second-tier professional-level 'Fortress Guardian,' you wouldn't want to retire on a mere fifth-rate cruiser, would you? And I promise you and every officer and soldier on this ship, in the name of the York family's honor..."

Baron Adonis's gaze swept over everyone looking at him.

"In this mission, neither I nor the royal family will claim a single gold coin of the spoils. The entire wealth of a nobleman on the merchant ship, along with the 5,000 gold pound bounty for the wanted criminal, will all be given to the 'Severe.' I have but one request: before other pursuers arrive, help me dismantle all enemies of the York family!"

Inwardly, however, he pondered:

'This is the last Lancastrian who can challenge the York family for control of the "Iron Law of the Crown." If I kill him, my title will be elevated two levels, and I might even inherit some of the Lancastrian party's territories, becoming a truly enfeoffed grand noble! Compared to power, what are mere riches?'

Adonis's words stirred the hearts of the captain and officers, who were unaware of the intricacies. The prospect of at least 5,000 gold pounds plus an entire ship's cargo was tantalizing. It's worth noting that in this era, the annual salary of an experienced sailor rarely exceeded 20 pounds, and a farmer's income was even less, often below 10 pounds!

Moreover, the baron was correct; fifth-rate ships from various nations were typically the mainstay of privateering fleets, disrupting enemy maritime traffic. Plundering enemy merchant ships and sabotaging enemy sea lanes were their specialties; calling them official pirates would not be an overstatement.

This time, their task was simply to intercept a merchant ship from their own country. There was no need to venture into the high seas, teeming with headhunters, wizards, sea monsters, diseases, evil spirits, and all manner of oddities. By intercepting the fleeing Lancastrian ships, they could potentially gain promotions and wealth, becoming leading tycoons.

And the "Son of the Demon" was just an ordinary mortal. With Baron Adonis's promise, dissent on the warship evaporated; everyone was galvanized as if injected with adrenaline.

At that moment, the lookout in the main mast crow's nest reported swiftly:

"Captain, the 'Pelican' has been sighted at two o'clock! But it's already under attack and ablaze, about to sink. Another ship, a pirate vessel, is making a quick escape. Judging by the shark skull emblem on the pirate flag, it's likely the infamous 'Maneater' of the North Sea. The captain is 'Blood Eye' Salman, with a bounty of 4,300 pounds."

The officers paid no heed to the sinking of the merchant ship 'Pelican.' A pirate ship? No! They were merely transporters of wealth. As semi-colleagues, the navy was well aware that before sinking, the 'Pelican' would have been stripped of all its valuables and people.

The challenge of the hunt was no different between a small pirate ship and an armed merchant ship. Lieutenant Colonel Harold, the captain, calculated the distance and speed between the two ships, drew his command saber, and bellowed:

"Soldiers, show Baron Adonis the courage of the 'Severe.' At our current distance and speed, we should overtake them in about two hours. Crush them for me! For the gol... King!"

"Roar! For the King!"