"(Mister Baron, allow me to introduce you to the High-Captain and First Lieutenant of the Sea Wolf fleet. As peculiar as they are, the Sea Wolves are one of the most... effective fleets we have.)"

Eilean and Lang Hai were lying on the rugs, stretching out like cats.

The Sea Witch stood up with a gasp, smiling brightly.

The boy struggled to his feet, but Eilean quickly a.s.sisted him up.

Tycon shouldn't have been surprised. The young, troublemaking captain and his cunning lieutenant were stationed in Beaurte. Anchoring port in Caractere, they naturally needed to meet with Chantal, their superior officer.

Eilean wore a more formal red dress that accentuated her well-maintained hourgla.s.s figure. Tycon found the dress, combined with her vivacious orange hair and the gloss of her lipstick, to be aesthetically pleasing. Among her bone charms, she also wore a Mureina Eel skull, which Tycon had gifted her (cheaply,) a few suns prior.

Hai placed some effort in looking crisp and clean in his full uniform: trousers, coat, and a captain's flat-topped hat. The back of the boy-Captain's hair stood up, somewhat lessening the dignity of his appearance.

It seemed that the Sea Wolves were cognizant enough to know that bringing that Rico was not in their best interests. Tycon was briefly thankful that his own guild members weren't so problematic.

...Minus Wolfbanger, who apparently got arrested for stealing.

Tycon turned to Chantal and forced the best smile he could muster, "(The Sea Wolves. I've... heard so much about them.)"

Chantal nodded, her gaze drifting into the past, "(I've known High-Captain Lang Hai for nearly an epoch now. The previous Beaurte Fleet admiral was... a rival of my father.)"

...

High-Captain Lang Hai stood with his Lieutenant's help and took off his hat.

He couldn't help but stare. Grand-Capitaine Chantal De la Croix had flitted in from her office, embodying the grace of a legendary mermaid.

Realizing his distraction, his gaze hardened, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng in abyssal black.

It was no dream. She was Lang Hai's nightmare.

Lieutenant Eilean licked the entirety of her hand.

"Hold still, Cap'n," she whispered as she mussed his hair. "Cain't 'ave you all clarty in front've the loove of yer life."

She had tried her best to smooth out the hair on the back of Hai's head.

"Not... now! Eilean!" Hai struggled out of her grasp before standing rigidly at attention. Waiting. For… Capitaine Chantal to notice him.

She was conversing with some green-haired knight that Hai didn't know in the old language of the Kingdom.

"Oooah, Baron Tycondrius is sooo handsome in armor," Eilean swooned in a hushed voice.

Ohhhh. THAT GUY! Aha! That n.o.ble p.r.i.c.k must have used a disguise kit to trick him! But he couldn't trick Eilean's superior senses (besides vision, anyroad.) Hai was glad he brought his Lieutenant!

"Grand-Capitaine Lang Hai," Chantal approached with a dreamy smile. "And Lieutenant Eilean. It's been years."

"It's grrreat ta see you, Grand-Capitaine!" Eilean said with her stupid voice.

This was it. He was standing right next to the nightmare-woman, close enough that she could wring her elegant, glossy-nailed hands around his neck. Afterward, she'd have him shot!

The devilish woman's perfume was intoxicating. And there was too much of it! Hai's head spun and his heart was beating out of his chest. If he were a weaker man, his legs might have given out, but his training prevailed. He could stand at attention for hours as if his spine was a ramrod of steel.

Chantal pressed a long finger to her luscious lips and smiled to Eilean, "As for your visit... Is the Sea Wolf Capitaine here to finally a.s.sa.s.sinate me?"

Hai's face turned to disgust. It sickened him that Chantal had decided to wear such a seductive outfit. Her Naval trousers, meant for utility, betrayed the shapeliness of her perfect legs, thick and powerful enough to fell sea monsters with lightning-strike kicks. Her unreasonably ma.s.sive b.r.e.a.s.t.s threatened to spill out of her coat and the white, almost-see-through blouse, underneath.

Chantal was a disaster, a calamity overly capable of dooming men to their doom! But Lang Hai knew better! He would not fall for her charms! Those who tried to win the favor of Grand-Capitaine Chantal were doomed to plummet to the infinite depths of the abyss! Doom!

...

Tycon narrowed his eyes.

The 14-year-old boy was suffering some sort of malfunction, staring with his mouth agape. Hai had been... strangely quiet, for a boy who loved the sound of his own voice.

After a moment of consideration, Tycon decided that he didn't care. He'd simply enjoy hearing less idiocy in his presence, "What's this about an a.s.sa.s.sination?"

"Och aye! I 'eard the spraff a few moons back, meself!" Eilean was eager to share.

Tycon focused on what the woman had to say, trying to glean her meaning. If she spoke another language, The System could translate her. She spoke the Common tongue... but there was so much slang and colloquialisms in her verbiage that Tycon had to heavily rely on context.

Seldin Korr spoke in circles. Wroe spoke in eldritch riddles and omens. Aurala was literally from a different world. Sorina Capulet and the language of Business... Tycon didn't even try understanding her.

What he managed from the Sea Witch was this: When Lang Hai was about ten, (which was somehow over an epoch ago,) he hatched a foolish plan to a.s.sa.s.sinate Chantal's predecessor, Admiral Gulliame De la Croix, and take over his s.h.i.+p and crew. He did so without stealth or guile, challenging the man in front of sailors and Marines from both the Darktide and Beaurte fleets, his own Admiral, and at-the-time First Mate Chantal.

She beat the boy half-to-death with her bare hands. Eilean described a few of the more fantastical rumors surrounding the event, which Chantal neither denied or confirmed. The Fleet Admiral did chuckle in amus.e.m.e.nt at a few of them.

What a terrifying woman.

"Anyroad, it's nice to see you, Little Captain," Chantal offered a handshake.

Shocked out of his daze, the boy stood at an even stricter stance of attention and saluted.

Tycon pursed his lips. The boy had saluted with such force that he struck his own head with an absurd 'pak' noise. Other than that, it was the crispest, sharpest salute Tycon had ever seen.

Lieutenant Eilean slowly lowered the boy's flat-topped captain's hat back on his head, effectively hiding his cowlick.

"Grand-Capitaine Lang Hai, reporting to Fleet Admiral Chantal!" Hai's bellowed.

The boy had artificially lowered his voice to an absurd level. Chantal's mouth twitched as she retracted her hand and crossed her arms.

"Sea G.o.d's socks, this is pure barry!" Eilean giggled.

Tycon resisted the urge to facepalm. The boy's face was turning redder than a reefclaw, "Captain Lang, you're going to pa.s.s out if you don't breathe."

...

This was it! This was Lang Hai's s.h.i.+ning moment! All he had to do was demand the right to anchor at Port Caractere and to sail her waters!

"Grand-Capitaine Chantal De la Croix--"

Great, so far! Now to do the demanding!

"I, humbly request--"

No! Wrong! Go back!

"I, High-Captain Lang Hai of the Beaurte Marines--"

Yes, insert a cool t.i.tle to establish dominance! Lang Hai, the Abyssal Sea Wolf! Of the Sea Wolves!

"--your most loyal servant, humbly requests-- to... to go out."

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Wait, what?

That stupid n.o.ble, Tycon, had grasped his mouth and chin with his hand. Eilean had her hands clasped together, flas.h.i.+ng the most annoying smile in the Kingdom.

Lang Hai coughed a short, careful cough. He was calm. He quelled the feeling of wanting to vomit. He still held the salute, but his hand was wavering.

"The s.h.i.+ps. The s.h.i.+ps to go out. The Marine s.h.i.+ps to go out into… Darktide waters... Where we will be doing… s.h.i.+p things. For the Kingdom. Which we both belong to."