When I laid the unconscious earthling's head on the deck and stood up, I was met with complete silence and weapons pointed at me. Of the twenty-eight galley slaves, nine were standing, six more were lightly wounded and would soon be able to join the fight, and three clearly wouldn't live an hour. And now, these nine standing were in front of me, and there was not a trace of kindness in their eyes. Two warriors of full Steel among the rebellious slaves had survived this bloody battle, and now the swords of one and the cutlasses of the other were pointed at me.
"Who are you?" one of the Steel fighters asked, a broad-shouldered man who reminded me of a weightlifter with his build.
"A traveler," I replied briefly, shrugging. "A countryman of this red-bearded man," I added, just in case.
"Do you know Cristo?" the most talkative of the rebels asked me again.
"I don't know his real name," my answer displeased the former slaves, which was evident by the way their weapons wavered in their hands. "But do you think Full Restoration Potions are given out to random people?"
"What were you doing on the Defiled Island?" the broad-shouldered man persisted.
"None of your business," I retorted.
And no, I wasn't trying to provoke him on purpose; I wasn't starting a fight that I couldn't win, no matter how much I wanted to. Simply, with his questions, this former galley slave had crossed all reasonable boundaries, and if I hadn't retorted but started to answer diligently, it would have caused much greater suspicion towards me.
"Wrong answer!" The broad-shouldered one seemed delighted; apparently, he had taken a liking to my chainmail.
But before he could take a step towards me, the second Steel warrior, who looked unremarkable, like a regular fisherman rather than a warrior, laid his hand on the other's shoulder:
"Calm down, Duar; this traveler helped us; he broke through the pirate line."
"And he killed that bald brute, Aig!" A voice came from the sparse crowd, belonging to a young guy no older than twenty. "Killed him with a single blow! I saw it."
This argument obviously changed the attitude of most of the rebels toward me. Most likely, the bosun of the pirate galley was far from the most benevolent overseer. But despite this change, the one called Duar didn't lose the greed in his gaze. Honestly, I thought that after I helped the rebels, they would accept me on board without any questions, but apparently, my assumption was wrong.
"I'm Huran," the second Steel fighter stepped forward and introduced himself, "a former guard of the Trade League."
At such a formal greeting, I could respond more fully without losing face.
"Raven, a disciple of Unudo's sheriff, Ender." - As soon as I uttered my mentor's name, two-thirds of the insurgents lowered their weapons. - "I was on Gnur on a mission from the captain of the 'Defector,' Maestro Larindel."
The last argument, it seemed, knocked the ground out from under the broad-shouldered one; he paled a little, quickly hid his weapon behind his back, and then muttered:
"You could have said right away that you're Ender's disciple."
"People!" Huran raised his voice. "Why are you standing? Help the wounded; throw the bodies overboard!" He immediately yelled at the tall man, who lifted one of the bodies and dragged it to the side of the galley, "Daag! Are you a donkey?! First, search the dead and undress him, and only then throw him out!"
Just a moment ago, nine people stood opposite, aiming their weapons at me, and now no one really cares about me. Because gathering trophies or looting is a much more attractive occupation than another fight. Besides, apparently, the loot was divided here on the principle of "first come, first served."
Honestly, I would have joined this body looting myself, but I was only interested in the former captain in this regard, and Huran was already carefully undressing his body. Therefore, instead of collecting loot, I carried the unconscious body of the earthling to the stern superstructure and laid it down so that he wouldn't accidentally break his neck in case of unexpected turbulence. After that, I examined his wounds and checked his pulse.
He will live. I managed to give him a Full Recovery Potion in time. Most likely, he will be completely fine by tomorrow morning. The scars from the penetrating wounds on his chest will remain, but otherwise, he will be healthy. Ain's alchemy is real magic.
"May I?" A voice sounded over my shoulder.
I looked up; standing next to me was a middle-aged, slim, short man. He seemed harmless, but I saw him wielding a dagger. He's a full Bronze, and judging by the wand in his hands that he honestly looted from the pirate's doctor, he can heal too.
"I'm Fuun. Let me examine Cristo." Just as I thought, a healer.
"Of course." Standing up, I gladly gave up my spot by the body.
Jumping onto the wooden edge of the galley, I looked around. Maybe some of the pirates hadn't been looted yet? To my surprise, someone had dragged the pirate boatswain's body onto the rocks but hadn't touched any of his gear. Unlike most of the pirates, who died in the general melee, I killed the boatswain one-on-one. According to all unspoken rules, his body and everything on it belonged to me. But I didn't think the rebels would adhere to this combat etiquette; it turns out I was wrong to think ill of them.
Jumping ashore, I approached the boatswain's corpse and started to examine it. The armor, consisting only of a dense gambeson, did not interest me. However, it was intact, so I carefully removed it. Then I inspected the belt and the pouches on it.
Still, the "memory of the future" has changed me significantly. In the last Cycle, after killing my first man, I spent a whole day recovering, consuming over three liters of strong alcohol. Only on the third month of my stay in Ain was I able to calmly loot bodies. Now, however, I was only slightly nauseous. But not because I was doing something wrong, but because the corpse of the boatswain, with a head cracked open by my spear and slightly charred by the "Discharge," looked, to put it mildly, disgusting and unnatural.
However, unpleasant as it was, I examined the dead body of the pirate boatswain very carefully. First, of course, I looked into the purse. I found only ten silver coins and the same amount of copper. Nevertheless, I wasn't disappointed - these were likely "money in sight" for small expenses. I didn't believe that a pirate boatswain, even on such a pathetic-looking ship as this galley, was so poor. Moreover, there was at least one ring on each of his fingers. After removing everything, I briefly inspected the jewelry. Mostly, they were flashy ordinary trinkets made of silver and semi-precious stones. But there were many of them, and in total, they could bring more than three golds if sold in bulk.
Using "True Attention" and the "Perception" aura, enhanced by the orc belt, I examined all the rings more closely. To my regret, none of them had a magical or spiritual glow, meaning they were simple decorations. With a sigh of slight disappointment, I poured all the rings into my purse and then checked the clothes and the boatswain's gambeson. Again nothing special, not even hidden pockets. However, I still removed the light fabric armor from the pirate's body and threw it onto the galley deck; maybe someone could use it. I liked the boots the most, I would take them for myself, but they were about three sizes too small, and no matter how much I wanted to, they would not fit my foot.
The examination was coming to an end, and so far, I had failed to find anything valuable. I had already begun to think that the boatswain kept all his money in a hiding place somewhere on the ship, which was quite possible. But fate was not so harsh on me today. When I was checking the pirate's belt, I noticed a small inconsistency, and upon closer examination, I found a hidden compartment, and not one, but a whole five. I inspected these compartments, then cut the belt into strips and barely concealed a smile. As I thought, this Aig was not poor, and I became richer by forty-five gold! Plus, I took his cutlasses, forged from good steel, which could easily be sold for a couple of gold each.
Having completed the examination, I told Huran that if anyone needed clothing, they should take it. I was not attracted to underwear from a corpse, but many slaves had only dirty loin cloths for clothing, so it could be useful to someone.
Also, having clarified that no one was planning to sail away within the next hour, I headed inland. There were four more sea thugs killed by my hand waiting for me there. And they might also have something valuable.
Having searched the first three bodies, I became richer by another twenty gold and thirty silver coins. The fourth one, a mage of Bronze/Steel, apart from fifteen gold, had quite a good magic wand. It enhanced all elemental magic by a quarter and healing spells by a third. Such a thing could be sold for thirty full-weight gold coins. Or I could keep it for myself. The wand was only o cubit long and weighed no more than four hundred grams, not too large an item to bother me. But if I need to heal myself, it might come in quite handy. After some thought, I put the wand into my backpack. No sooner had I tied it back up when I heard cautious footsteps approaching.
"Thank you," said in a quiet voice the same merchant's son who had unwillingly shielded me from the pirate's sword.
Since he is standing on his feet, it means he reached the Potion of Full Restoration that I had thrown.
"No, thank you," I replied, standing up and patting the lad on the shoulder. "For shielding me from the sword."
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
"I..." He blushed but managed to finish, "I slipped."
It seems he didn't realize that it was me who pushed him under the enemy's blade. For this Copper-rank lad, everything happened too quickly, and he most likely didn't understand the situation. Of course, I didn't tell him the truth; I just nodded sympathetically.
"I, Aun, son of Liao of the Duan family from the free city of Tries," The guy bowed down to the ground, showing extreme respect, "express my gratitude for my salvation."
Judging by the pirate's words and the simple clothes of the dead merchant and this lad, his family is not wealthy. Most likely, their entire fortune was on that ship that was recently attacked by the pirate galley. Weighing all the pros and cons, I figured the game was not worth the candle. Besides, it would be unfair to saddle this lad, whom I myself pushed under the enemy's sword, with a "life debt."
"I, Raven, express to you, Aun, son of Liao, my gratitude for your assistance in battle," I return his formal phrase; now we're even, and he has no debt on him.
While the lad is blinking in surprise, I use my foot to turn the body of the pirate mage face down and ask the youth:
"If you need anything from their bodies, you can take it."
"No!" Aun immediately waved his hands and asked about something else, "I heard one of the freed slaves called himself a fighter of the Trade League?"
"A former fighter," I corrected him.
"Do you think I can safely go to the ship? Will I not be captured again?"
"You don't seem like a baby," I gave him an indifferent look. "You've grown as tall as me, and you seem to have a head on your shoulders. So why should someone else think for you, Aun, son of Liao? The only thing I'll remind you of is where we are now." I gestured around at the cliffs. "This is the island of Gnur, the place Defiled by the God of Plague."
From my words, the lad paled. Am I too harsh on him? He has just lost his father and narrowly escaped death himself. On the other hand, he is at least seventeen, which means that by the standards of Ain, he is an adult man, and I wasn't hired as his nanny. While this young guy is blinking around, I turn my back to him and descend to the shore. The lad turned out to be tougher than I initially thought, and he followed me.
"Hey!" We had just approached the shore when Duar called us. "I'm talking to you," the stubby Steel-rank warrior pointed at Aun, who hurried to hide behind my back, "you are from the Duan family, aren't you?"
"Yes..." The youth admitted.
"How much will your kin pay for us to deliver you to Tries alive?" The warrior asked curiously, and all the other rebels immediately listened to his question. They listened with deep interest.
Taking a double step, first a little to the side and then back, now I was behind the lad, and he, being left without cover, was first taken aback but then pulled himself together and loudly said.
"My name is Aun, son of Liao, and I belong to the junior side branch of the Duan family, and I'm afraid you won't get much for my rescue." Honest on his part, but foolish.
"Then who told you that we will allow you to board?" The warrior, who had already dressed in light armor and took the pirate captain's blade for himself, declared standing at his full height.
"Hold on, Duar." The second Steel-rank fighter intervened. "Money is secondary. The mere presence of this guy on board is a pass into the city port of Tries, and his story will clear all questions from the coastal guard."
The stout one, most likely, at first wanted to say something harsh, but seeing how the rest of the rebels reacted to the words of the former Trade League guard, he just waved his hand.
"I'm Huran." The warrior introduced himself to the lad. "And you, who called yourself Aun, can board, but bear in mind, you will row like everyone else!"
"Agreed." The lad nodded. "And now, can I say goodbye to my father's body?"
"Alas." Huran spread his arms. "His body was swept away by the waves into the ocean during the battle."
Without waiting to hear their continued conversation, I hopped onto the galley in one leap. Unlike the situation with the guy, no one thought to challenge my right to be here. Climbing up to the stern structure, where all the wounded had been laid on the deck, I asked the doctor:
"How's Cristo?"
By my calculations, the earthling should have already come to his senses, but he was still unconscious.
"He took the Potion in time; he'll be alright…" the doctor faltered here but continued nonetheless, "if he survives the Elevation."
"What?" It seemed to me that I had misheard.
"He woke up ten minutes ago and immediately entered Elevation," the doctor shrugged. "I tried to dissuade him, to forbid it, but he didn't listen."
I could easily believe that. This earthling was one of those who, apparently, was not used to listening to anyone but himself.
The "previous me" had often served as an Anchor for those undergoing Elevation. Yes, for earthlings, the presence of an Anchor during Core reassembly is not as critical as it is for the locals, but it still makes the process easier. Therefore, I set aside my spear, took off my backpack, then sat down next to Cristo and took his palms into mine. As I did this, the doctor was watching me carefully.
"I know what I'm doing." I nodded at him, and he relaxed a bit.
Locals somehow believe that being an Anchor is a huge responsibility, and only experienced fighters and mages can perform this role. I appear very young, and hence the doctor looked at me askance initially. In reality, there's nothing difficult about it. To keep a person's mind in reality, you don't need much; you just need to give their consciousness a beacon. A focus point that is external. Or, as they say here, give a person an Anchor.
Locals have turned this into a whole ritual, which is largely superfluous. What's really needed is to hold the person's hands, focus on your own pulse, and with light palm pressure, as if "transmit" your pulse rhythm to the person undergoing Elevation. That's it; nothing more is needed. The main thing is that the pulse rhythm of the Anchor does not coincide with the rhythm of the one being elevated. It is such a small detail that prevents the consciousness of the one undergoing Elevation from quickly dissolving into boundless nothing. In severe cases, this procedure will not help, but in borderline situations, it can serve as that very Ariadne's thread, which will lead the person back to the light of reality.
Cristo entered Elevation immediately after a strenuous battle in which he nearly died. Moreover, he was recovering from severe wounds. Therefore, the process was challenging for him. More than an hour passed, and I did not notice any progress.
During this time, the rebels divided all the loot. Then they threw the dead bodies into the water, making no difference between the corpses of the pirates and the bodies of the slaves, with whom they shared their position until recently. However, this is quite logical and probably even correct. After all, they were not friends or comrades, and most likely, not all of them even knew each other's names. It's hard to communicate with other people when you are almost always chained to your rowing bench and occupied with hard, exhausting physical labor.
After the galley was cleared of bodies, the rebels held a meeting where they elected temporary leaders. Huran was appointed captain, Duar as boatswain, and to my great surprise, Cristo was named helmsman, even though the guy was still unconscious.
I, like young Aun, of course, did not participate in this vote. We were also bypassed during the distribution of the pirate treasury. At this point, I wanted to protest and demand my share as a full-fledged participant in the battle, but I couldn't because I was busy acting as an Anchor. And later, when everything had already been divided, it made no sense to "assert my rights." No one would share with me what they already considered rightfully theirs.
In total, fifteen rebels survived, counting Cristo, who still hasn't come to his senses. This number was definitely not enough to form a full-fledged crew for the galley. But to manage a ship that would sail under sails and not on oars, this number of people should be enough.
Another small meeting of the former slaves established their goal. Since there were no experienced seafarers among them, not counting a couple of fishermen who were used to sailing on much smaller boats and only off the coast of their home island, they decided to sail to the nearest major city, then sell the galley and, having divided the money received, scatter in different directions. Moreover, the nearest city to Gnur was Aun's home, Tries, which was a weighty argument for the approval of this plan of action.
As soon as the spontaneous meeting of the rebels ended, Duar drove everyone to clean and wash the ship. The uprising that had begun was nipped in the bud by Huran, who put forward two arguments. The first was that a blood-stained vessel would not be allowed into the raid of Tries, and the sea guard might attack before they listen to Aun, taking them for pirates. The second argument was that a clean ship could be sold much more profitably than a dirty one.
Most likely, this warrior had previously served not as a mere guard but as someone akin to a sergeant and understood how to command people without resorting to a stick system. His arguments, especially the one about more profitable selling, were enthusiastically accepted by all former slaves.
Three hours later, the galley already looked clean. It wasn't actually so, but externally it gave precisely that impression. The hardest part, cleaning the slaves' living quarters, hadn't even been approached by the new team yet, and this work would take at least a day. But the rebels were not lazy and sorted all the goods previously plundered by the pirates. In this, they were assisted by young Aun, who was quite knowledgeable about trade. The guy understood that the more useful he showed himself, the better he would be treated. Good for him; he didn't fall into despair after his father's death; he didn't shut himself off. It was obviously hard for him; he sometimes "froze," and it was clear how much he wanted to cry, but the guy held back, not wanting to show his weakness in public.
While observing Aun and the rebels, I didn't forget about my main occupation. According to my calculations, Cristo should have come around more than an hour ago, but the earthling was still in a vegetative state. I was already starting to worry and recall what to do in such complicated situations when Cristo's eyelashes twitched, and he took a loud, deep breath.
Upon opening his eyes, Cristo immediately pulled his hands out of mine, sat up sharply, and began to feel himself frantically. As his hands found the now-healed scars in place of the mortal wounds, his face gradually smoothed out. But what calmed him the most was the sight of Huran, who, passing by, cheerfully waved at him.
"You're fine physically," I confirmed to him.
Hearing my voice, the earthling distanced himself and looked at me carefully as if seeing me for the first time. For almost half a minute, he drilled into me with his gaze, then his pupils widened, and he exhaled:
"I know you!"
"And hello to you too."
"What the hell are you doing here?" Asking this question, the earthling moved away from me as far as he could, leaning his back against the side of the galley.
"And that's instead of a thank you?"
"Thank you?" He didn't understand.
"Firstly, your rebellion would have failed if it wasn't for my intervention. Secondly, you're alive only thanks to my Full Restoration Potion. And thirdly, I served as an Anchor during your Elevation for over four hours."
He seemed not to listen to me, just looked very carefully, after which he said:
"Raven? You called yourself that, then."
"Correct."
"And where are the other three? Two girls and a blond guy?" Asking, the earthling carefully examined the ship, which was like in the palm of his hand from the stern elevation.
"They stayed on Un. It's that island..."
"I remember what the island was called," Cristo abruptly interrupted me. "Did they send you?" He asked a strange question.
"They?" I didn't understand him.
"Those assholes who brought us here!" The earthling raised his voice. "You work for them, don't you?"
At my loud laughter, all the rebels turned around. I had to wave my hands at them, signaling that everything was okay. For probably three minutes, I laughed out loud, unable to stop. Me, who killed one of the questers, someone seriously suspected of working for them? Having laughed it off, I turned my gaze to Cristo, who was still waiting for my answer. But instead of words, my fist answered him. The earthling's head jerked, and the back of his head was imprinted into the side of the galley with a dull sound. Getting up on my feet, I added a kick for good measure. After which, I turned to the doctor sitting nearby and said in an icy tone:
"If you heal his broken nose, I'll break all your ribs. Understood?!"
"Yes," the healer squeaked quietly, not taking his gaze off my hand resting on the dagger's hilt.