(Storm, looks like there's going to be a flood. There's a power outage, so I'm using my laptop's remaining power. I'll write as much as I can. It should be enough for two chapters.)
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Under the dim light of dusk.
A shadow stretched out on the road. Søren's body was covered in a large cloak as he once again entered this once bustling place.
Arendelle's prosperity was supported by trade and taxes.
With the port blocked by the southern kingdom's navy, Arendelle's trade was completely cut off. Many ordinary people lost their jobs at the port and had to find other ways to make a living. There were a lot of goods piled up near the tavern. There were hundreds of merchant ships coming and going every day. Once they were all blocked here, there was no way to transport the goods out. There were many complaints in the city, but the merchants who pursued profits naturally didn't think so much. They only hoped that the war would end as soon as possible.
Søren pushed open the tavern's door.
The weather suddenly changed in the evening, and it began to rain heavily. It was almost summer, and the season of the storm was coming.
Under the washing of the rain, the ice and snow were about to melt, and soon this cold country would be covered in greenery.
"Damn bastard!"
A drunk man raised his head and looked at Søren who opened the door, and a cold wind blew in. He cursed: "Hurry up and close the door, or I'll throw you out."
Soran walked in front of him expressionlessly, then stretched out his hand and grabbed the man's neck like a duck. Then, the man who weighed more than 200 pounds was easily lifted up by him and thrown into the smelly ditch outside the tavern. The tavern finally quieted down. The others looked at Søren in surprise, and some who looked like adventurers looked at him with interest, as if they were guessing his profession.
"A cup of good rum."
Søren shook his cloak and ordered the best rum, but he didn't drink it himself. Instead, he put it across the table.
He gently tapped his fingers and waited. The others quickly turned their attention back and talked about other things.
It was just throwing out a drunkard with a dirty mouth. No one would care too much about this kind of thing. Only the adventurers on the side were quite interested in Soran.
About thirty minutes later.
The tavern's door was opened again, and a cold man with a scar on the corner of his eye walked in. He was about thirty years old. His sharp eyes swept across the tavern, and he directly sat across from Søren.
"Your Excellency."
The cold man handed over a document from under the table and said: "This is what you wanted."
"Yes." Søren nodded.
Then he threw a diamond over, pointed at the rum on the table, and said, "It's on you. When did the Thieves' Guild register my information? "
The cold man was hesitant, but when he met Søren's eyes, he immediately lowered his head: "Last October."
"We will collect any valuable information. Your Excellency has always been the focus of our attention."
Soran nodded slightly and did not have much of an expression.
He stood up and looked at the cold man in front of him: "When you have time, ask your leader to come and see me. I have something to talk to him about."
After that, he turned around and walked into the heavy rain.
… … …
Under the heavy rain, the docks were dead silent.
Many piles of goods were placed near the warehouse. After the port was sealed, these goods couldn't be transported out. They could only be sold at a low price or stored for a short period of time. On the side of the docks were low shacks. Even the wealthy Arendelle couldn't avoid a group of poor people. There were many strong men sitting under the eaves in a daze. Most of them were coolies at the docks, relying on their strength to support their families. Now that there was no work at the docks, they could only sit here and do nothing.
Søren, who was walking alone in the heavy rain, was a little eye-catching.
People looked at him curiously, wanting to know what this man who looked like an adventurer was going to do.
Because the rain was too heavy, the patrolling guards were hiding from the rain, so under the dark night, no one disturbed Søren's work. He walked step by step to the edge of the docks, then stood in the sea. Søren pulled out a dagger that reflected a faint golden light, then he cut his palm. Drops of blood fell into the sea. When Søren put his palm into the sea, an invisible magic light spread out.
"What happened over there?"
A boy who looked at most fifteen or sixteen years old shook his head, then rubbed the corner of his eyes and said: "Did you see that? It seems like a light spread out! "
The other people around him didn't seem to see anything.
"Did I see it wrong again?" The boy's expression was a little depressed. He reached out and grabbed his feet, then looked at the sky in a daze.
… … …
Deepwater Port.
On the sea dozens of kilometers away from the port, there was a sudden wave. Then the sea separated to the left and right, and a black mast rushed out from the bottom of the sea. The Ghost Ship's sail quickly opened, and the hull of the ship broke through the waves. The Drowned Undead began to work. With the cold night, a fog spread out from the nearby sea. Then the Ghost Ship sailed at a very fast speed in the direction of Arendelle.
It felt Søren's call!
As a quasi-legendary Undead, the Ghost Ship had the ability to sail automatically.
Snake Island.
The base camp that was once destroyed had been rebuilt, but it was obviously not as large as before.
Now it was just a transit station, a supply point for the overseas route.
On the calm sea.
A huge shadow gradually floated up. The first thing that came out of the sea was a hideous sharp bone spur, then a piece of black scales. The gigantic sea monster appeared on the surface of the sea and stayed in the same place for a moment. Then, as if it felt some kind of call, it swam towards the northern sea. Its huge body dived into the sea once again and moved forward at a speed far faster than any warship.
Its master was calling it!
The blood told it the location of its master. Even if it was thousands of miles away, it could track the location.
… … …
Arendelle's dock.
Søren slowly retracted his palm. The wound on his palm had almost healed. He looked at the vast sea under the night, then turned to look at Arendelle's palace and murmured: "Three more days."
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