Life had stabilized.
They had already begun living the stable life of a real society.
Yet now, because of these damned pirates' attack, they had to choose to flee.
They would have to rely on fishing to survive again.
Wasn't that a joke?
Fishing had been miserable work in ancient times.
Fishermen were often looked down upon.
They made their living from the sea. It might seem like they could strike it rich in one go, but danger was always close behind.
There were no weather forecasts in ancient times.
So they depended heavily on experienced shamans.
That was why many gods had prospered through the predictive abilities of shamans, receiving abundant offerings.
So they truly did not want to flee.
If they fled, they would be left with nothing.
As for joining the pirates, the pirates certainly would not acknowledge their previous contributions.
They definitely could not compare to the pirates' old hands, and might even be treated as cannon fodder.
They might even be killed. Becoming slaves would be the best possible outcome.
Hearing this, everyone fell into despair.
At that very moment.
A red horse appeared on the sea.
Then, carrying everyone's hopes.
It charged toward the Pirate Captain.
"Look, look! That's that horse, right?" someone cried in delight.
"Yes, it's that horse! It can often run on water!"
"Damn it!" The Pirate Captain immediately knew his nemesis had arrived the moment he saw that horse.
"I knew heaven wouldn't just let me have such good luck."
"When you give me a door, the other side opens a window."
"I get one more cannon, and they get one more horse!"
"I still got the worse deal."
There was considerable debate in chess over whether a horse or a cannon was stronger.
But overall, in that chess game,