Chapter 7: Recruitment

Two tall glasses were placed on the curved table in front of the captain’s cabin, facing the sea. Their crystal-clear bodies shone brightly under the misty glow of the sunset on the sea surface. The oak barrel base was quite high, with a movable holder at the front, seemingly designed for pouring wine. The dark brown barrel must be quite old, and a bald eagle ready to take flight could just be made out on the metal emblem on its side.

The golden liquid quickly filled the glasses. The rich aromas of juniper, lemon peel, and cinnamon spread through the wine’s vapor, enveloping the entire captain’s cabin in an intoxicating atmosphere.

“Care for a drink? I don’t have any honey wine from home. Drinking it at sea is considered beneath a gentleman—except for ladies. Though I really like my hometown’s honey wine, I can’t go against convention.” The bearded captain raised his glass and offered it to him.

Taking the glass, Komer nodded and brought it close to his nose, sniffing gently. This gin from the north wasn’t very popular in the south, but for sailors who spent years at sea, it was a rare delicacy. Its strong alcohol content and fragrant aroma could effectively relieve their monotonous and dull moods. Moreover, gins came in a wide range of prices and quality levels, catering to various budgets—this was also the main reason sailors liked them.

Komer wasn’t particularly fond of drinking, but his memories of life in Cyprus were mostly tied to bars and taverns—places filled with mischief. Alcohol, an indispensable part of noble life, was deeply ingrained in Komer’s memories of those carefree days.

As his tongue touched the wine, old memories flooded back to his mind. A complex expression appeared on Komer’s face. “Old Tom from Goldenrus?”

A hint of surprise flashed across the bearded captain’s face. This was his treasured wine. Although gin didn’t need to be aged for long, true connoisseurs were hard to find. Portalan himself had never wanted to drink from this barrel, which held the story of his wandering life. He never expected someone else to guess it so quickly.

“Sir, you truly are an expert. This is Old Tom from Seville’s Golden Rhus distillery. I’ve never had the chance to enjoy it properly until now. I never expected to be able to savor this so-called finest gin here with you.” Portalan’s words proved that he was unlikely to be a high noble from the Corinthian City-State Alliance. Although Old Tom was expensive and hard to come by, such luxuries were essential for high nobles. When Komer was in Cyprus, he indulged in drinking in taverns. Though he didn’t like strong spirits like Old Tom, he still wasted time with people like Ilot, even trying to get drunk with expensive liquor like Old Tom to take advantage of barmaids. He wasn’t unfamiliar with Old Tom’s unique aroma.

“Mr. Portalan, you may call me Reiser. I’ve tried Old Tom before, but I don’t like it. It’s just stronger because of an extra distillation step. I prefer milder flavors, as I said earlier—I like drinks like mead and ice wine that emphasize taste.” Komer wasn’t an expert in wine, and he didn’t want to give the other man an overly hypocritical impression. Captain Portalan had made a good impression on him, and he had earned his respect. He hoped this atmosphere could continue.

“Oh, I didn’t expect Mr. Reiser to have such a unique taste.” The regretful look on the bearded captain vanished quickly, replaced by a sincere smile. “It doesn’t matter. The beauty of wine lies in the atmosphere. Drinking to drown sorrows only adds to one’s worries, no matter what kind of wine it is. Meeting Mr. Reiser today is surely fate.”

The smooth liquor slid down his throat, bringing a scorching heat. The two, enjoying their conversation, soon became slightly tipsy. Old Tom gin might not be much of a challenge for Portalan, but for Komer, it clearly exceeded his tolerance.

It felt great to be tipsy. Back in his room, Komer found that this feeling allowed his closed heart to open up, releasing countless emotions and pressures. Sitting silently on the edge of the bed, he pondered for a while before muttering a spell to summon his Cosmos Bag. A delicate harp slowly floated out from the opening of the bag.

Sitting alone at the bow, surrounded by the dimming twilight, the undulating sea gently lapped against the ship. Komer lightly plucked the strings of his harp, and a series of melancholic notes poured forth. “Spring waters always flow into rivers, and rivers flow into the sea. The gentle breeze in the sky always carries a sweet sentiment; how can anything be truly alone? All things, by the laws of nature, must merge into one spirit. Why then are you and I different?”
“Look, the mountains kiss the blue sky, and the waves embrace each other; who has ever seen flowers refusing to get along, sisters despising their brothers? The sunlight tightly embraces the earth, and the moonlight kisses the sea waves—but what good is all this kissing if you refuse to kiss me?”
Dressed in a white nightgown, Lome stood quietly by the porthole, watching Komer, who was sitting by the bow playing the harp and singing passionately. It was the first time she had seen the Great Sage sing so devotedly. The impact on her heart was so strong it brought tears to her eyes. What painful wound could have caused the Great Sage to possess such deep melancholy yet fiery emotions?
Over the next two days, the friendship between Komer and Portalan grew rapidly. Komer felt an inexplicable fondness for this captain, who seemed to carry a hint of melancholy and desolation at all times. The captain’s profound knowledge also gave Komer a deeper understanding of the oceans surrounding the Land of Azure.
The seas in late autumn were relatively calm. Although Lome found it hard to adjust on the first day, her remarkable adaptability was fully demonstrated in the following days. She quickly learned to play the harp alongside Komer on the swaying deck, even using air magic to pluck the strings in an attempt to discover new functions for the harp, which amused Komer greatly.
As the ship sailed further north, the color of the sea seemed to fade gradually, from dark blue to turquoise. A series of faint shadows appeared on the northeast horizon, while a vague coastline could be seen in the northwest.
“Mr. Reiser, Odessa is almost here ahead. To the northeast lies Homer’s gem in the seas of the Land of Azure—the Galapagos Islands. It’s a famous fishing ground on the continent, with trout of unparalleled flavor. If you stay in Odessa tonight, don’t miss the chance to try them,” Portalan said as he walked up behind Komer, who had been standing at the bow.

“Galapagos trout? Well, I haven’t had it in a long time too.” Comer turned his head with a slight smile. “I’d really like to invite Captain Portalan to dinner tonight to enjoy some Galapagos trout. I wonder if Captain Portalan is interested?”
“I’m honored to receive an invitation from Mr. Reiser,” Portalan said with a pleased smile. “Has Mr. Reiser tasted the trout here before?”
“Heh, I forgot to tell Captain Portalan—that I am a Homerian. Reiser is my surname; my name is Comer.” Comer nodded with a smile.
“Comer? Comer Reiser? Baron Comer of the Caucasus?” Portalan raised his eyebrows in surprise. Though he had guessed that this elegantly mannered and eloquent young man had an extraordinary background, he never expected him to be none other than Baron Comer, the lord of the Caucasus.
“It is indeed me. What, does Captain Portalan think I don’t look like him?” Comer was satisfied with Portalan’s surprised but composed expression. Only those who can remain calm under any circumstances are truly worth knowing.
A strange expression appeared on Portalan’s face. How could this lord of the Caucasus appear on such an ordinary passenger ship, on a journey to Odessa? Even yesterday, when faced with the inspection by Homer’s naval fleet, he remained calm. It seemed this lord had an exceptionally deep strategy.
“I’m just a bit surprised. I never expected the lord to be here. Aren’t you afraid that Grand Duke Philip will arrest you?” Portalan finally broke into a hearty smile, his thick beard seeming to conceal much understanding.
“Arrest me? Who knows I’m Comer? I’m just passing through Odessa. He wouldn’t have the audacity.” Shrugging, Comer seemed unbothered by this question. “He has plenty of worries of his own. As for me, he might have mixed feelings too. I hope he can get out of his troubles. Well, let’s stop talking about this uninteresting matter. Captain Portalan, are you interested in accompanying me on a trip to the southern continent?”

Komer finally extended an invitation. Portalan was a rare talent, especially his familiarity with the Midland Ocean could be described as having an almost living map in his mind. What was even rarer was that his personality suited Komer’s tastes well. Moreover, since he was currently in a difficult situation, Komer hoped for someone to help him once he returned from the Java Marshes, traveling from Rosenberg to Middelburg, then to the Midland Ocean and the Abyssal Sea. He needed someone to assist him in controlling everything along this route, and Portalan seemed to be the perfect choice. Although Komer didn’t know much about Portalan, he had an intuition that this man could bring him good luck.

Portalan’s gaze fell on Komer’s face, his expression full of hesitation, but Komer seemed not to understand the meaning in his eyes and simply waited quietly.

“Lord, I dare to ask—what do you need Portalan to do for you? Apart from sailing, Portalan knows nothing else. On land, he’s nothing but a lazy drunkard,” said the bearded man, finally speaking up to decline politely.