From that day onward, Garrett joined Master Talbert’s medical care team.
He conducted regular auscultation and percussion, monitoring the progression of the illness;
He instructed the dwarf warriors on how to perform back slaps for phlegm clearance for Master Talbert at scheduled intervals;
He adjusted the oxygen concentration and flow rate during oxygen therapy;
And not the least importantly, but immensely helpful:
"Master, no more smoking! Someone take away the master’s pipe! The tobacco too! Take it all away. If I catch you smoking again, I’m throwing your pipe and tobacco into the sea!"
"And take away the alcohol too! You’re still drinking with your health like this? Do you have a death wish?!"
With such care, Master Talbert’s condition significantly improved within two to three days. On the afternoon of the third day, as the Philosopher’s Stone approached the Black Gate Mountain Range, Master Talbert was even able to sit on the deck, pointing to the distant towering mountains, and share dwarf legends with Garrett:
"...Back then, the demon god Fábruti emerged from the sea, his body flowing with flames, waves rolling under his feet, each step stirring tsunamis. And the giant Black Gate battled him..."
Such an ancient myth... Are you about to say, the giant Black Gate fell and became the Black Gate Mountain Range?"...After the great battle, the demon god Fábruti sank to the seabed, turning into the fiery mountain ranges underwater, his blood transforming into fierce sea monsters." The old dwarf’s voice flowed gently:
"And the giant Black Gate fell at the edge of the continent, his bones becoming mountains, his flesh turning into land, his blood into lakes, and his teeth into rocks. During the battle, half of his body was shattered, so now, the Black Gate Mountain Range we see, jagged and fractured along the ocean, with countless bays penetrating into the mountains..."
Garrett really wanted to say, that’s due to glacial troughs invaded by seawater. But who knows? In a world with magic, perhaps a fight between two magicians could have created such unique geographical features?
Just as he said this, a silver-blue light suddenly streaked across the deck of the Philosopher’s Stone. Followed by more lights, whizzing by. One of the silver-blue lights lost its power midway and plopped down in front of Garrett...
"Flying fish?"
Curiosity piqued, Garrett bent down to poke it. He had read about flying fish in books and seen them in videos but had never seen a live one. At the same time, the lookout atop the mast called out:
"Flying bluefin fish! A large school of flying bluefin fish!"
The entire crew sprang into action. Those operating the sails did so, those tying ropes did their job, and those casting nets cast their nets. Bluefin flying fish, a delicious low-tier magical beast, could yield a magic crystal from one in a hundred fish—
For an alchemical ship, it wasn’t worth specially hunting, but encountering them was a welcome chance for a small fortune. At worst, it added a delicacy to dinner.
Even Bernard ran to the side of the ship to help the crew cast nets.
As a level seven warrior, having lived comfortably and undergone two perilous battles with Garrett in the past two years, he was nearing a breakthrough. Observing the technique a few times, he cast a net that captured a full load and pulled it back with all his might.
As an elegant magician, Garrett, of course, remained a gentleman, comfortably seated aside, enjoying the fishing scene. He also took the opportunity to inquire from the old dwarf:
"Pretty lucky today, eh? Flying fish bumping into our ship?"
"Heh, it’s alright." Master Talbert stroked his beard, unfazed:
"The western side of the Black Gate Mountain Range is a prime fishing ground, and early summer is the peak season. It’s not even at its busiest now; come autumn, they say you can walk ashore on the backs of cod fish!"
"Have you done it?"
Garrett was curious. The old dwarf laughed heartily:
"Of course not. But just look around—tiny shrimp attract small fish, small fish attract big fish, big fish attract cloud whales and grey whales—see, aren’t there several whaling ships nearby?"
Garrett strained to see. Sure enough, there were five or six ships of various sizes floating around. Some were sailing full speed with sails fully unfurled, some had only half their sails raised, and others seemed to have dropped anchor. Small boats were being lowered from the sides of the larger ships, engaged in some activity.
Unfortunately, Garrett’s knowledge of ships in this world was almost nonexistent, and he couldn’t tell if those were merchant ships, passenger ships, fishing boats, or whaling ships. Just as he was about to inquire, a water column shot up
not far from the ship.
Then, the lookout at the top of the mast screamed:
"Narwhal! Narwhal! Hard to port!!!"
The Philosopher’s Stone lurched violently. Garrett, seated on a stool, nearly fell onto Master Talbert.
He lunged forward, narrowly missing the old dwarf and crashing to the deck. Scrambling up, he just saw a ship half again as long and a level higher than the Philosopher’s Stone charging diagonally at full speed, its prow mounted with a glinting ballista.
"Enemy attack—"
Garrett cried out reflexively. He was promptly slapped down by the old dwarf:
"What enemy attack, that’s a whaling ship!"
However, almost simultaneously, the bowstrings twanged.
The ballista atop the whaling ship fired instantly. A dark bolt skimmed the water’s surface, heading straight for the Philosopher’s Stone’s rudder.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!!!"
The rapid clanging of metal rang out. The Philosopher’s Stone made a swift turn, the ballista bolt grazing by, only scoring a shallow groove on the ship’s stern. Meanwhile, the crew scrambled into action:
Those who needed to gather ropes did so, those who needed to raise sails did, and nets and other items were thrown into the water as needed. The ship then vibrated, and the sound of rushing water indicated an increase in speed, quickly putting distance between it and the whaling ship.
What happened next, Garrett did not know. As a non-combatant, he was promptly whisked below deck and instructed to stay in his room. On his way down, he saw dwarves, axes and hammers in hand, rushing out, ready for a boarding battle.
"It’s a whaling ship, why would they attack us?"
Garrett was bewildered. But this question was answered at dinner:
"What whaling ship! That was a warship from the Galorin Kingdom! Oh... Many of their warships double as whaling ships, allowing cadet officers to gain experience in sailing and combat. Pah! Those brats, not even recognizing our alchemical ship, thinking they could just rob us because their ship was bigger and they had more men!"
Undoubtedly, their mistake cost them their lives. The Philosopher’s Stone only needed to increase the distance and fire a few magical cannons to send them to the cold seabed. The only damage to the alchemical ship was a few dents on the outer hull, which barely breached its defenses.
Garrett thought this was the only mishap during the voyage. However, in the middle of the night, he was once again awakened by the alarm.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack! Enemy attack—"
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