Gell Cowper

Although Gary had grown very quickly during this time, even Krulu, the first mate of the Blood Anchor back then, wouldn't dare to get surrounded by sailors while wielding a cutlass, let alone Gary, who was unarmed.

Thirty people were simply too much for him.

Seeing Evan charge into the fray, the veterans, already worked up into a frenzy, couldn't remember that he was a Cadet Officer and their superior. They immediately split off a portion of their men to rush at Evan.

Having already taken several punches and kicks, Gary felt the pressure instantly ease with Evan joining him. Following Evan's past teachings, he continuously moved around the deck, creating localized advantages in force. He faced no more than three people at a time, and if more than three appeared, he would turn and run, embodying guerrilla tactics to the fullest.

"Bang—"

"Ouch..."

He mowed down these veterans one by one as if he were unstoppable.

There was even less to say about Evan's side. Agility was his specialty; even when surrounded, he could easily find openings to kill his opponents on the spot.

Evan gripped an old soldier's wrist and twisted it gently. The moment the man's movements contorted in pain, Evan landed a punch to his ribs, instantly incapacitating him.

"Ah—"

The veterans fighting him cried out in agony, but in reality, they weren't seriously injured. Evan and Gary specifically targeted their weak points. Although the pain was enough to make someone faint, they would be fine after a night's rest.

Amidst the melee, no, it should be called a one-sided "slaughter," a group of people failed to notice a tall, middle-aged man in a school officer's uniform and cloak who had been watching them from the poop deck for quite some time.

"Young people certainly have a lot of energy!" Colonel Gell, the captain of the Silver Wing, who had somehow returned to the ship, exclaimed.

Colonel Gell was a tall, middle-aged man with short gray hair. Standing on the poop deck, his posture was upright, like a majestic cliff that had stood for millions of years by the sea, unmoved by even the wildest storms.

Throughout his service career, as long as he was on board, the crew felt incredibly secure. No matter how treacherous the celestial phenomena, they believed he could lead them safely back.

Seeing that both sides of the fight had a sense of proportion, Captain Gell didn't want to interfere too much. Competition within the military wasn't a bad thing. Once they truly set sail, he wouldn't allow these fellows to have so much energy.

"Chris, have the winners responsible for throwing the losers back into their cabins and cleaning the deck. That's all," Colonel Gell instructed the boatswain behind him, turning to return to his captain's cabin.

"Yes, sir! Oh, and this is the list of new personnel who joined today. Would you like to see it?" The boatswain, Chris, who wore a blue headscarf instead of a sailor's cap, saluted and handed Gell several lists filled with names and brief introductions.

"Alright, leave it to me. Thank you for your hard work, Chris." Gell took the papers and turned, leaving the poop deck directly.

Returning to his captain's cabin, listening to the faint but energetic sounds of fighting and shouting from the young men outside, Gell fell into a slight daze.

He glanced up at a painting prominently displayed in his cabin.

It depicted a two-masted expedition ship cutting through the waves. The sky was somewhat dark, and the winds were strong, but two vibrant young men on board were pointing excitedly into the distance, seemingly unfazed by the weather.

One of them was tall with gray hair, clearly Colonel Gell in his youth. The other was slightly shorter with brown hair and black eyes, not fitting the mainstream appearance of the Faletis people. Instead, he bore some resemblance to the minority ethnic groups from the neighboring country of Iliya.

However, judging by their appearance in the painting, it was clear the two were very close friends. Nationality was not an obstacle. Moreover, belonging to the Tulip Alliance, centuries of frequent intermarriage between the upper classes and common folk meant there were no longer any distinct racial characteristics unique to any single country.

"Old friend, if not for that accident, your son should be of military age by now, shouldn't he? Would he be fighting impulsively like these energetic brats outside? Would he learn from you and have the courage to write love letters to the girl he fancies? Heh heh..."

"No, no. If you were both still alive, you certainly wouldn't let him join the army. You would only let him inherit your expedition ship and continue to be a great explorer, just like we were back then, right!

You said it was the blood of explorers flowing in your family's veins; I know all about it, Forman... Garratt!"

Stirred by the youngsters' brawling, Gell reminisced about his like-minded, but tragically departed, old friend and brother.

After a long while, Gell finally shifted his gaze from the painting and slowly opened the list of new recruits that had been lying on his desk for a long time.

Dim Spark, twenty years old, five years of service, served on the warship "Sunflower," gunner, evaluation: Excellent...

Oliver Judd, nineteen years old, three years of service, served on the warship "Reef," sailmaker...

Gell flipped through the pages diligently. He had already submitted his recruitment standards to the logistics department, and these individuals did meet the requirements, but none of them truly stood out.

"Gary Forman, fifteen years old, recruit (second in overall performance at the recruit training camp), Rank: Late-stage Apprentice Knight."

Gell's eyes lit up. A late-stage Apprentice Knight was someone who could be cultivated as a core member of close-quarters combat. Even on a battleship, such talents who had embarked on the Extraordinary Path were always welcome.

Why didn't various countries extensively cultivate extraordinary armies? Besides the external factors previously mentioned, an individual's aptitude, compatibility with the extraordinary path, and later cultivation resources all made such an idealized approach impractical.

As for Gary's naturally high physique of 0.7, which was not obtained through the knight training method, Gell had no way of knowing.

Gell was satisfied and continued reading.

"Evan Garratt, fifteen years old, Ensign..."

Just seeing the name, Gell's heart felt as if it had been struck by lightning, and he shot up from his seat. He had just been reminiscing about his old friend and his offspring, and in the next moment, he saw this familiar yet unfamiliar name. How could he remain composed?

He then chuckled and pinched the bridge of his nose. Was he still the Gell Cowper who could remain unfazed even when facing a mountain collapse or a tidal wave?

"It must just be a case of the same name. After Forman passed away, his territory was attacked and overrun by bandits due to an incident.

Forman's children all died in the chaos; I specifically went to see. The subsequent town administrator collected their bodies and erected tombstones, burying them in the same cemetery as Mr. and Mrs. Forman.

I also gave the town administrator a sum of money to manage the cemetery on their behalf, just a few years ago."

"They... they really aren't... alive anymore?"

A strange murmur echoed in the captain's cabin, gradually fading.

The brawl had ended. As per the captain's orders, Boatswain Chris had tasked Evan and Gary, the victors, with cleaning the deck they had dirtied.

Afterward, he returned to his room next to the captain's cabin.

He had spent the day accompanying the captain at the naval base handling affairs. It was now evening, and he planned to rest for a bit before heading ashore later to find a place for a good drink.

"Chris!!!" a sudden shout rang out beside the Boatswain. He reflexively jumped up, twisted his head, and rushed out. The Captain wouldn't call him with that tone unless there was an emergency.

Bang--

"Captain!" Rushing into the Captain's Cabin, the Boatswain was surprised to find that nothing seemed to be seriously wrong.

Colonel Gell's expression wasn't stern either. Instead, it held an expression the Boatswain had never seen on his face before. It was... apprehension?

"Take me to this recruit's room, immediately! Now!" No matter how small the possibility, Gell didn't want to let it go.

"Yes, sir!"

Chris saw the name "Evan Garratt" at the end of the list. Although he didn't know what had happened, he couldn't question the Captain's orders.

The dutiful Boatswain immediately stood at attention and saluted, leading the way to Evan's room.