Captainess Drue’s Seven-Pointed Windrose anchored on a pirate cove, or more accurately the half-submerged ruins of a slave tower in the middle of a cove.

This was the secret hideout and base of operations used by Red Reignland Pirates, the small-time pirate lords and island hoppers of southern coast of Mu. They weren’t card-carrying members of the Revolution Movement, but they were smart enough to not cause any trouble when we appeared unannounced. It was common sense to pay a courtesy visit to local crime lords and prevent misunderstandings down the road.

Drue introduced us first, and then I briefly explained the situation, offering the pirate lords krúricks as a compensation for using their base. After that, Crys made some very direct threats about what would happen to the traitors who inform Caliphate forces about our arrival.

“If you don’t want to burn together with the High Hats, stay out of mainland and collect the rewards afterwards. Dragon’s Head Sorry Man will remember your actions.” (Crys)

“What my colleague Crystal here means that there’s no point getting riled up and getting yourself killed over temporary squatters, right?”

This good cop bad cop manzai had become a natural part of interactions for Crys and I at this point.

The pirate lords were taken aback both by Crys’ disrespectful attitude and my relaxed casualness. Captainess Drue’s men probably thought that a fight would break out immediately, but the pirate lords were smart enough to take a hint and practically bowed their heads to us.

Just like in the anime, these Red Reignland Pirates looked intimidating and powerful, but in reality they were just small-time racketeers walking on broken glass under constant Caliphate pressure. They understood that our campaign against Caliphate, successful or not, would ease the pressure on their business.

Anyway, we docked in the shadow of the slave tower and spent a night in the pirate lord hideout as planned.

Just when I was preparing to sleep in my cabin, I heard muffled sounds from the corridor over the night rain. Then there was a sudden knock on the door.

I opened the door cautiously and saw Kimono holding one of Drue’s crew members, a dark-haired man in his thirties, with both hands on the man’s throat.

“Kim, what’s going on?”

“Do you recognize this man?” (Crys)

Ah, Crys was standing behind the door. Sorry, didn't see you there at first.

I took a better look at the miserable sailor’s face. He looked like a regular NPC from northern Ur. Drue’s pirate crew was multi-ethnic, so you couldn’t tell allegiance from appearances alone.

“Nope. Not a character I remember. From No-Lands?”

“He was sneaking around and asking questions. An amateur spy sent to infiltrate our group using Drue as a stepping stone.” (Crys)

“Oh.”

“He approached Kimono thinking she would be his key inside. He claims that his name is Frunn.” (Crys)

“Name doesn’t ring any bells either. So there was a spy in Drue’s crew, but not ours.”

“Who sent you? Speak!” (Kimono)

“T-they forced me to do this!” (Frunn)

“That much is obvious. A skilled spy wouldn’t signal his intentions so eagerly. Which group forced your hand?” (Crys)

“I can’t say! I don’t know!” (Frunn)

Kimono changed her grip, pressing her thumbs into the sailor’s eye sockets.

“N-no! I can’t! They will kill my family, if I talk! No!” (Frunn)

“You don’t seem to understand your position. I will kill your family myself, if you do not talk.” (Crys)

Big oof. Again one of those card pyramid scams where the scammers were victims as well, forced to scam those under them.

“Kim-chan, hold back a bit.”

I squatted down and talked to the man in a friendlier tone.

“Dude, listen carefully. Crys and Kim here are not fans of empty threats. You must be aware of their reputation. They will really kill your whole family if you don’t talk, from grandpas to stepbros. But if you do talk, we can probably destroy the people who forced you to do this. Maybe even before they have time to kill your family. Telling us everything now is your best bet. You should jump on the lifeboat before you sink.”

Okay, he’s thinking, he’s thinking.

“...It was the Uzelemien gang. They told me I must to do this, they killed my first wife and chained my children... They said I must join the Pirates of the Rose and Sun, and wait for an opportunity to get close to the Revolution Movement, and find out where Sorry Man lives for them, and if I do this, they’ll allow my children to live… I can see them again, if I do what they want... Please, for my children, my Irien and Matilde! Please kill those bastards before they hurt my children!” (Frunn)

Good cop got the info.

“Uzelemine gang is subordinate to Dark Murderers.” (Crys)

“Yeah, they are on my naughty list. Pure middle management trash.”

“Anything more you want to ask?” (Crys)

“Nope.”

A sylph dagger appeared in Kimono’s hand out of nowhere and immediately went through Frunn’s throat like a splitting wedge. I didn’t feel much sympathy.

“His kids were killed immediately after he left Ur.”

“Yes. A disposable pawn. They didn’t expect him to return.” (Crys)

“Uzelemine group wasn’t a major player in my time, but they are doing something different in this timeline. I think we should deal with them sooner rather than later.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Agreed. Kimono, get rid of the body. I will report this to Drue. They will try again.” (Crys)

“Should I report to Drue instead?”

“I will do it.” (Crys)

Well, Crys had the correct set of skills to deal with this shady spymaster crap.

Further down the corridor, I saw Rain opening the door of her cabin and peaking out. She saw the crewman’s corpse on the floor and her reaction was a disinterested sigh.

“Problem?” (Rain)

“No problems. Curiosity killed a rat.”

Rain closed the door without saying anything else.

This wasn’t the first or last time someone tries to infiltrate our group. When it wasn’t a vindictive criminal organization like Dark Murderers or Princes of Darkness, it was some High Hat from Caliphate or some fading faction from Sultanate. Most infil attempts were amateurish, but their tactics kept changing and evolving; they were getting more desperate and more sophisticated at the same time.

They had already understood that sending famous faces directly to the moorlands was a surefire way to get caught, so now they shotgunned random newbie reps into peripheral gangs hoping to hit one lucky bullseye.

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After that brief interruption, nothing else of note happened in the ship. We continued sailing down the coast under various false flags until we reached the sandy wastelands of southern Reigland.

“You left out some details from your map, Mad Seer.” (Drue)

“Did I?”

“That cursed place where only Caliphate warships go, and that crazy captain of Fiery Ships. Why draw just a skull there?” (Drue)

“Raft Island?”

“Yes, Fart Island, hahaha! You seem to know everything. Why abstain from naming that place?” (Drue)

“Because I don’t recommend going there at all. It’s an artificial island built by Strangers, standing on five massive metal legs like a console table and a permanent thunderstorm above it. You would need serious climbing tools and techniques to challenge those legs. It’s enough to know you don’t want to go near it.”

“Hou, is that right? Well, I wouldn’t want to draw Strangers wrath or sail into Caliph’s cannons, but curiosity is an underhanded assassin, hahaha! When I hold such a miraculous map in my hands, I feel like sailing around the world!” (Drue)

“Well, it’s good to have ambitions, but I’d prefer if you stayed as the local manager of the archipelago instead leaving it to someone less competent and sailing around hunting poneglyphs like a certain fruit-eater.”

“Is that a proposal? I don’t plan on settling down with a man who walks straight!” (Drue)

“As I've told you multiple times, I have someone waiting back home. I’d prefer to keep the size of my harem at one or less.”

“Monogamy? I spit on that!” (Drue)

Drue kept flirting with me throughout the journey and slapped my butt every time she walked by. Friendzone is the best zone, okay?

In our first campaign draft, the plan was to sail all the way to Chisaray port in Kenorland, but that was changed in the second draft after info about Caliphate warships patrolling the area arrived. The current Caliphate was afraid of random uprisings in the conquered areas, including seaside attacks from Sultanate after Caliph Tze’s death, which worked for us in one way, but complicated things on the other end.

The final version of the plan: jump to the shore and cross the worthless sandlands of southeastern Reignland on horseback, while Palo, Sun’s Girl, Gold Odor, Orchid and Darling stay in the pirate ship and continue their airship attack preparations.

“It’s hot…”

“Shut up, you’re not even rowing.” (Kimono)

“I have only one hand.”

Yep, we went back to basics and used rowboats to reach dry land.

Anyway, the dangerous beaches of Normandy – well, no. The coast of Reigland didn’t look like France at all. It was more like northwestern Africa where Sahara desert met the Atlantic Ocean: star-shaped sand dunes, random patches of grass, poisonous scorpions.

It wasn’t too long ago that I was suffering from winter and cold at far north, but now I stood at the edge of a desert sweating under my custom gear.

The high temperature forced me to remove most of my protective clothing while we waited our local guides to arrive.

It didn’t feel like we were an invasion force. I felt like we were a bunch eccentric billionaires who stepped out their luxury yacht carrying long guns, waiting for their casual safari tour to start. Where the lions and giraffes at? We came to blast some endangered wildlife!

“They should have arrived already.” (Crys)

“Probably delayed by some patrolling Caliphate soldiers. That often happens. They wouldn’t betray us at this point, right?”

“Whatever the reason, we need to move without them.” (Crys)

“I guess you’re right. Let’s assume they moved to plan B and move to plan B as well.”

“Is there a problem?” (Rain)

“No problemos, this delay was taken to account in the big picture. We’re going to steal some horses from locals and head to the dune fields. Improvise, adapt, overcome.”

Waiting in the same area too long wasn’t a good idea for several reasons. Most of those reasons were related to Rainwoman. For one, the Death Squad presagios in Reignland that used to work directly under Caliph Tze were hypersensitive to strange weather phenomenons in the desert.

Thankfully Rain understood that our schedule needed leeway and kept herself calm.

The dark clouds usually reached Rainwoman with a delay. We had become pretty good at that predicting that delay and moving accordingly ahead of them, but there were always unpredictable edge cases when it came to weather. If Rainwoman got too emotional, the clouds arrived much faster due to stronger winds.

----------------------------------------

Riding freshly stolen horses, we headed further south. I named my new temporary horse summon Azertyuiop.

Going on a lore tangent, we stole these white horses from a camp of nomads called Hanikani bandits. Hanikani didn’t speak the common language, so it was speculated that they were not enslaved by Strangers for some reason and thus not forced to speak the same slave language as everyone else. Their language wasn’t subtitled in the game either; it was used in a word puzzle where you had to learn some Hanikani words and use them in the right context, although runners like me just memorized the combos using a catchy mnemonic song.

Maybe I should teach the Hanikani puzzle song to the orphans and make it a meme? If it's really the rare original language of this world which wasn’t destroyed by Strangers colonialism, we should try to preserve and protect it.

In their language, the word “hanikani” meant mirage. They usually lived in natural caves like deviants and rarely interacted with outsiders, but this particular bandit group of Hanikani lived by thieving and murdering, so taking stuff from them didn't trigger any pity. They had probably stolen these white horses from Kenorland, so we were practically returning them to their original owners.

Lore tangent over.

When the sun went down, we finally saw the faint lantern signals of the small group that was supposed to pick us up from the coast, an offshoot of Dragon Messiah’s Flame Tank Group.

They rode over gypsum basin in a zigzag pattern. I sent back Morse signals with my light card and we moved forward to meet them halfway.

After hearing them shout the code word “utinni!”, I shouted back “boshuda!”.

The leader of this welcoming committee was a minor character called Sandwhit, a local gang leader and our tourist guide. He immediately dropped off from his horse and took a knee like a servant.

“Great Chief, Great Seer, esteemed ladies! This lowly disciple greets you! May you accomplish a great deed!” (Sandwhit)

“Sandy, we don’t do that here. We don’t grovel in front of authorities like slaves. Stand up and speak normally.”

“Yes, Great Seer! I will speak with confidence even if I don’t know anything!” (Sandwhit)

“...No, not like that.”

These young padawans still have a lot to learn.

“Sandwhit, lead us to the Flame Tank dungeon.” (Crys)