The wind direction created by Gust of Wind did not completely match the sea breeze, which wasted part of the wind force. There was no other choice—without anyone handling the sails, changing the wind direction was indeed easier.
The sea breeze tonight was gentle, which was good news. The Conch only needed to increase speed slightly to shake off the other party, the distance visibly widening to the naked eye.
Nearly two minutes passed. Just as the ship's speed had picked up, the wind gradually weakened.
The base duration of Gust of Wind was one minute. Anser had higher Charisma, but even so, he could only maintain control for just under two minutes.
However, spells were not that rigid. He did not need to recast it—he only needed to maintain concentration, keeping the spell active while injecting Magic Power. A small amount of Magic Power could extend Gust of Wind by several minutes, making it highly cost-effective.
This time, he tried reducing the wind strength to extend the duration. Although it required appropriate adjustments to the wind direction, the effect was far stronger than the first attempt.
Yet several more minutes passed, and the reinforcements Titch had expected never appeared—not even a shadow.
Ragna's expression grew very ugly. She had personally arranged this, and the executors were all trusted members of the guard. She had not expected to be betrayed from behind.
"Maybe it was just an accident," Titch said, trying to comfort her.
Ragna said nothing. Once she returned, those people would surely have prepared a pile of sufficiently convincing explanations—but whether it was truly an accident or merely an excuse, who could really say?
"Find a berth and drop anchor!" Anser looked at the row of dock lights not far away and felt that berthing would be the better option—waiting for the ship to rendezvous could easily be blocked.
"Alright, over there." Titch pointed toward a large sailing ship at the pier. That vessel was a full sixty to seventy meters long, with three decks and towering masts—enormous in scale.
In the entirety of Silver Scale Bay, there were only two sailing ships of that size, which showed just how rare it was.
The Conch cut through the water. After a few minutes, the dock berths and the details of the large ship came clearly into view.
The duty sailor aboard the large ship saw the sailing vessel charging in at high speed and was scared out of his wits. He immediately rang the alarm bell, its urgent peals echoing across the docks.
"Too fast, too fast…" Titch grew a little panicked.
He had no experience with berthing, but even he knew that when approaching a dock, the ship's speed had to be reduced to near zero and allowed to drift in on inertia.
At the current speed, it would inevitably end in the ship being wrecked and everyone killed.
Anser, of course, knew this—but he could brake.
He first gradually reduced the wind force, then shifted the wind direction. The sails billowed in reverse, and the sailing ship's speed dropped sharply, pulling the masts into creaking groans.
However, due to the angle of the sails, the hull did not decelerate straight on. Instead, it tilted, forming an angle with the dock.
Titch let out a breath of relief and hurriedly turned the helm, adjusting the direction.
When the bow neared the berth and the hull formed an acute angle with the dock, he decisively had Ragna drop anchor. As the anchor chain plunged into the water, the bow jerked violently to a stop, the stern swung toward the dock, and the ship drifted into the fenders.
Carnisa jumped down onto the dock, took the thick mooring line that Matthew threw over, and with effort fastened it to the bollard.
First the stern, then the bow— as the mooring lines tightened, the sailing ship settled firmly into the berth.
The slave ship that had given chase only circled at a distance before quickly disappearing into the night.
They gave up!
"Just like that?" Ragna spread her hands, her expression puzzled.
"What else—start a fight?" Titch lifted his chin and gestured ahead. "Take a look at whose ship that is."
Anser looked up. Two flags hung from the top of the large ship's sterncastle. The uppermost bore a shield-shaped emblem on a blue field, a silver crescent and its reflection at the center, with several silver stars encircling it below.
"Waterdeep!"
Waterdeep was the largest city in the Sword Coast, renowned for its unique political system, prosperous trade, and rich legends. It was known as the "City of Splendors" and the "Crown of the North," and possessed a powerful navy and its famous griffon cavalry.
"This is a transport ship of the Waterdeep noble Margaster family, converted from a decommissioned naval vessel. Even if you gave those slavers ten times the nerve, they wouldn't dare fire a cannon," Titch said, the corner of his mouth lifting with confidence.
"You used them—so you'll probably have to give a reasonable explanation," Anser said, jerking his chin at him.
Lights flickered on across the large ship. Teams of crew members rushed over, surrounding the Conch, which was strewn with corpses.
"Don't worry. I know someone here." Titch jumped onto the dock and took the initiative to negotiate with a man dressed in a luxurious long robe.
A few minutes later, the crew began boarding the ship, clearing away the bodies and rescuing the civilians in the hold.
Anser was a little surprised, but not overly so. The Harpers had an exceptionally broad network of connections and a good reputation, and they were often able to call in all kinds of assistance.
"I knew it was you," Ragna said as she walked up beside him, her expression playful. "Why disguise yourself as me?"
The effect of Anser's disguise magic had already faded. He pulled up his hood and answered perfunctorily, "Your reputation precedes you. When a fight starts, others lose three parts of their nerve right away."
"Haha…" Ragna suddenly burst into laughter, as if she truly believed it.
Hearing the laughter, the warrior Matthew and the rogue Carnisa also came over.
"Hey, I just overheard something. Titch sold the ship, so…" Carnisa made a small money-counting gesture with his fingers, smiling in a somewhat lewd way.
He was not wearing a hood. It was the first time Anser had seen his face—his features were very ordinary, his skin yellowish, and his hair and pupils were also yellow. He was probably from some minority group or of mixed blood.
"What does that have to do with you?" Ragna wiped the smile from her face, her expression turning a bit cold. "Who was it just now that wanted to run away? You turned a winch a few times and think you deserve a cut?"
"Hehehe…" Matthew launched into merciless mockery, cocking his mouth and raising his brows, the expression on his broad face perfectly on point.
"Hmph, I'm getting a share no matter what," Carnisa protested. "This isn't what we agreed on. I took extra risks—nearly ended up buried at sea."
"You took jack shit. You want it? Go talk to my axe," Ragna said, unmoved.
Carnisa immediately fell silent. They had worked together many times and he knew Ragna's temperament all too well. If he kept talking, she really might pull out her axe and chop him.
Ragna looked at Anser. Her expression thawed, and even her tone became much gentler. "You take the biggest share."
"Thank you." Anser felt a bit awkward—this woman's attitude during the day and at night was completely different.
"I'm staying at Moonshadow Quelin. Have my share sent over for me." He waved his hand, lifted his bundle, and hopped onto the dock in a few strides.
There was no point in staying any longer. He might as well go home and sleep it off—and also avoid Titch. The way the man looked at him was a little ambiguous; what if he tried to rope him into the group?
At the end of the day, Anser's objectives were thoroughly utilitarian, while the ideology of the Harpers was selfless and noble. The two were simply not on the same path.
Still, this trip had not been for nothing—experience and money, a double harvest.
However, the Conch was a black ship. No one would dare buy it openly, so its sale price would certainly be far lower than normal. After splitting it among several people, how much would actually end up in hand was still uncertain.
Silver Scale Bay was very quiet at night. Even Moonshadow Quelin had gone dark, with only a few lights lit in the garden and the entrance hall.
Anser crossed the garden and, seeing that the top level of the treehouse was completely dark, could not help but let out a breath of relief.
'That's not right. I'm not some husband sneaking around for a midnight affair—what am I afraid of?'
The main issue was that Gwyneth kept staring at him, which made him feel rather uncomfortable.
He entered the mushroom house. There was no one behind the counter. His gaze swept over the small hall, and his expression immediately stiffened.
On the chaise by the window, a girl lay basking in the moonlight, her head turned to the side. A pair of bright eyes was looking straight at him.
"Uh… moonbathing?"
Gwyneth rose and came up in front of him, sniffed him, and said coolly, "No one can keep winning forever. Lose once, and everything becomes meaningless."
She brushed past Anser and left at a brisk pace.
Watching her back, Anser remained silent for a long time.
If one wanted to master one's own fate, how could one avoid taking risks? Seeking comfort now would only mean paying the price for it sooner or later in the future.
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