Chapter Thirteen: The Fulcrum

The first dock on Sifnos Island had already begun to be constructed. The breakwaters built along the rugged cliffs could effectively shield the island from the fierce winds and waves coming from the vast ocean to the east. Three more docks had taken shape behind those breakwaters. Although they were larger in scale and would take longer to complete, Haidrin felt it necessary to plan for the long term. While the three docks were intended for foreign ships, another set of docks would serve as a dedicated facility for the armed fleet he planned to assemble in the future.

The work of leveling the land around the cliffs was progressing in an orderly manner. The enormous costs incurred from recruiting laborers caused Haidrin great pain. The high labor costs made him miss the cheap and hardworking barbarians and half-orcs in the Caucasus and Leon. In comparison, these mortals from the south were much more expensive. Yet it had to be admitted that these mortals, skilled in such work, were indeed far more efficient than barbarians and half-orcs, and in some technical tasks, they were incomparable to those somewhat clumsy barbarians and half-orcs.

It was said that the lord was already looking for ways to recruit dwarf craftsmen skilled in construction from the dwarf settlements in the south. If this problem could be solved, the construction progress of many important buildings on Sifnos Island could be greatly accelerated. Haidrin even imagined having a large number of dwarf craftsmen settle on Sifnos Island. As a key transportation hub between the Southern Seas and the Vast Continent, he believed Sifnos Island deserved its own group of specialized craftsmen.

The lighthouse was already under construction for its third layer. According to Haidrin’s plans, the lighthouse should have more than seven layers, with its top covered by high-quality glass windshields. The lighting would be provided by the most sophisticated magical lamps. Although this would consume fire-based magic ores, it would greatly expand the range of illumination. Thus, ships within dozens of nautical miles could be guided into port by the lighthouse even on stormy nights.

Initially, Haidrin had been opposed to Komer setting up a naval base on Sifnos Island as a stepping stone southward from the Caucasus. Even with the covert support of the Red-Haired Witch’s Kars fleet, Haidrin never trusted that bloodthirsty witch. For her own interests, the Kars fleet could easily destroy his carefully built base.

Whether Katrina had ambitions to advance toward the Storm Ocean to the south or not, simply having the entire island of Sifnos under her own watchful eye was something even those who sided with Katrina would not tolerate. Unless Komer never truly intended to build a real naval fleet and thus could not threaten the Red-Haired Witch’s position, he must have wanted to use Sifnos as a foothold to penetrate the South Central Ocean. But without a strong naval force, how could he deal with the greedy Demisheme pirates?

To Hayreddin’s surprise, it seemed that Katrina’s fleet was indeed prepared to fulfill its promise to defend Sifnos’ safety as the lord had said. The Red-Haired Witch’s flag featuring a drop of blood rose symbolized the fleet’s formidable strength here. Even the arrogant Demisheme pirates did not dare to provoke Katrina’s fleet easily. Countless naval battles had proven that the Red-Haired Witch’s dominance in this region was unchallenged.

Yet, in Hayreddin’s view, it was simply unimaginable for Katrina’s fleet to do this. Given the Red-Haired Witch’s pride and arrogance, Hayreddin could not imagine what conditions Komer might offer her. Commercial interests? They meant little to her—Katrina’s fleet was made up of pirates, not merchants. Logistics support? Katrina’s fleet already had a complete logistics system in place in the South Central Ocean; many city-states there exchanged logistics support for the safety of their own fleets. Financial aid? That was also unrealistic. Katrina likely had as much money as the current Caucasus region. For Komer, who was now in exile in the South Central Ocean, it might even be more realistic for Katrina to provide him with funds.

The only possibility was the weapons issue vaguely mentioned by the lord. But what kind of weapons could make the Red-Haired Witch so eager, to the point of giving up Sifnos, which was under Katrina’s control, and taking on significant security responsibilities for a long time?

This question troubled Hayreddin for a long time. But he knew well that given Komer’s habits, it was best not to ask too many questions about things he wasn’t willing to reveal. Perhaps when the time was right, Komer would tell him himself. For now, it was sufficient for Hayreddin to understand this reality: the top priority was to complete the infrastructure construction on Sifnos as quickly as possible and form an armed fleet to start business.

The old streets led straight into the distant city center. The varied buildings on both sides reflected the city’s long history—spires, wooden houses, and stone buildings stood side by side. Along the streets near the docks, prostitutes leaned against doorframes, their indifferent gazes fixed on the distant sea, waiting for returning sailors and fishermen. For these prostitutes, it was undoubtedly best to wait for sailors returning from long voyages. Merchants passing by didn’t bother stopping here; there were many younger and more beautiful women in the city. Their lustful desires made the sailors more inclined to satisfy themselves with these poor women before going home. Having just received their wages from the captain, they would be generous at such times. Though rough from long abstinence, they were still worth it. As for the ragged and dirty fishermen, they were a last resort. Not only did they smell of fish, but they were also stingy by nature, preferring to give their meager earnings to their wives. Haiding pushed aside several prostitutes who kept pestering him. Although he hadn’t enjoyed company of women in a long time, he hadn’t fallen to the same level as the sailors. Besides, he had no interest in distractions now—he was here on a purpose. Pushing open the door of the somewhat dilapidated tavern, the loud noise that greeted him instantly took Haiding back to years ago. Old oil lamps hung from pillars or the rooftops. Sailors, oblivious to anyone else, poured cheap beer into their stomachs one after another. Prostitutes leaning beside them flattered them while trying to steal a few coins from their open pockets, but they dared not touch the leather pouches at their waists—the knives hanging there exuded a chilling threat, warning the drunken prostitutes not to touch those funds. It was the sailors’ hard-earned wages from their sea voyages; touching them could result in torture to death at the hands of enraged sailors. Poseidon’s trident stood in the center of the tavern, with the bar surrounding it. Haiding glanced past the chaotic noise toward the center. A few well-dressed men leaned against the bar, sipping lime liquor. The amber-colored liquor in the transparent glasses showed its difference from beer.

Hayreddin knew that lime liquor wasn’t actually their favorite drink—whiskey was purely a luxury here; it was the stronger and more potent rye and gin that they preferred. But those were too expensive, and they also wanted to prove themselves different from the ordinary sailors around them. Left with no choice, they settled for lime liquor, which wasn’t costly yet was fundamentally different from beer.

When Hayreddin’s gaze fell on the center of the bar, several men seemed to sense the intense aura he emitted. As if stimulated by it, all three of them instinctively straightened up, except for the middle-aged man in tattered clothes at the back, who remained sprawled on the bar, casually calling out to the bartender, “Pete, bring me another glass of lime liquor!”

“Mr. Drake, you already owe thirty-six gold shields. The boss has given orders—we’re afraid we can’t serve you any more,” said the bartender, forcing a smile as he shifted slightly to avoid his gaze.

“Did Cuthbert really say that?” His sharp gaze made the bartender almost shrink back behind the bar. He muttered something but didn’t dare speak openly, only avoiding eye contact to escape.

Thick palms slammed onto the oak bar, causing a creaking sound. Drawn by the atmosphere, the noisy tavern gradually quieted down.

“I’ll pay for Mr. Drake’s bill. Pete, serve each of these gentlemen a large glass of rye—don’t dilute it with anything. When have sailors on land or at sea needed such nonsense?” A deep voice came from the doorway. Hayreddin leaned against the frame, arms crossed, looking at the bar with a half-smile.

All eyes turned to Hayreddin. His cloak remained on, half-covering his face, leaving only his eyes shining brightly at the entrance. Yet the moment he spoke, many people shuddered. Especially the middle-aged man on the bar, as if stimulated by some mental magic, suddenly stood up and fixed his gaze on Hayreddin’s face, trying to discern something.

“Did I go away for so long that you can’t even recognize my voice?” He gently lifted the edge of his cloak and removed it entirely. A small leather bag traced a graceful arc before landing on the bar. The heavy metallic sound echoed loudly—anyone could tell what was inside. “Pete, I’ll pay for everyone’s bill tonight. Serve my good brothers large glasses of rye!”