Gell Cowper

Although Gary had grown tremendously during this time, even Krulu, the first mate of the Blood Anchor, had not dared to get surrounded by sailors while wielding a scimitar. Let alone Gary, who was bare-handed.

Thirty people had truly exceeded his limit.

When they saw Evan charge into the fray, the old soldiers, already fired up, had forgotten that he was a Cadet Officer and their superior. They immediately peeled off part of their number and rushed at Evan.

Having already taken several hard punches and kicks, Gary instantly went all out once Evan joined him and shared the pressure. Following Evan's previous teachings, he kept moving across the deck to create localized advantages in force. He faced no more than three people at a time; whenever there were more than three, he turned and ran, putting guerrilla tactics into full display.

Bang—

"Ow..."

They swept through the old soldiers, knocking them down one after another.

There was even less need to mention Evan. Agility was his specialty, and even while surrounded, he could easily find openings and strike down his opponents on the spot.

Evan grabbed an old soldier's wrist and gave it a slight twist. The instant pain distorted the man's movements, Evan punched him beneath the ribs, instantly robbing him of his combat power.

"Aah—"

The old soldiers fighting them cried out miserably one after another, but their injuries were not actually serious. Evan and Gary had specifically targeted their weak points. The pain was enough to make someone pass out, but a night's rest would be enough to recover.

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

"Young people really are full of energy!" Colonel Gell, captain of the Silver Wing, who had returned to the ship at some point, remarked with a sigh.

Colonel Gell was a tall middle-aged man with short gray hair. He stood ramrod straight on the poop deck, like a towering cliff that had stood by the sea for countless ages. Even raging waves and violent storms could not make him waver in the slightest.

Throughout his service, as long as he was aboard, the crew would feel complete peace of mind. Even when faced with the most perilous weather, they believed he could lead them safely back on the return voyage.

Seeing that both sides were showing restraint, Captain Gell did not wish to interfere. Competition within the military was not a bad thing. Once they truly put to sea, he would not let these fellows have such boundless energy.

"Chris, have the winning side carry the losers back to their quarters. And clean up the deck while they're at it. That will be all." Gell instructed the boatswain behind him, then turned to return to his Captain's Cabin.

"Yes, sir! By the way, this is the roster of personnel added today. Would you like to take a look?" After saluting, Chris, the boatswain, who wore a blue cloth headscarf instead of a sailor's cap, handed Gell several sheets filled with names and brief profiles.

"Alright, give them to me. You've worked hard, Chris." Gell took the papers and left the poop deck without another word.

Back in his Captain's Cabin, Gell listened to the faint sounds of vigorous teenage brawling and shouting still coming from outside, and his gaze grew distant.

He looked up at a portrait hanging prominently in the cabin.

It depicted a two-masted expedition ship cutting through wind and waves on the sea. The sky was somewhat dark, and the waters were rough, yet two spirited young men aboard paid no mind to the weather. Arms around each other's shoulders, they eagerly pointed into the distance.

One was tall with gray hair, clearly Colonel Gell in his younger days. The other was slightly shorter, with brown hair and black eyes. He did not have the typical appearance of a Faletis person, instead bearing some traits of the minority ethnic groups from the neighboring country of Iliya.

Yet it was obvious from the portrait alone that the two had been extremely close. Nationality had never been an obstacle. Moreover, as members of the Tulip Alliance, their upper classes and common folk alike had intermarried frequently for centuries. There had long ceased to be any racial traits exclusive to a single nation.

"My old friend, if not for that accident, your son should be old enough to enlist by now, right? Would he be like those energetic brats outside, always getting into fights? Would he be like you, already brave enough to write love letters to the girl he loved? Heh heh..."

"No, no. If you were both still alive, you definitely would not let him join the military. You would only have him inherit your expedition ship and continue becoming a great explorer, just like we were back then, right? You said it was the blood of explorers flowing through your family's veins. I know that, Forman... Garratt!"

The young men's rowdiness had stirred his emotions, and he mourned his like-minded old friend and brother-in-arms, who had died far too young.

After a long while, Gell finally looked away from the portrait and slowly opened the new recruit roster that had been sitting on his desk for quite some time.

"Dim Spark, twenty years old. Five years of service. Served aboard the warship Sunflower. Gunner. Evaluation: Excellent..."

"Oliver Judd, nineteen years old. Three years of service. Served aboard the warship Reef. Rigger..."

Gell carefully turned the pages one by one. He had long since submitted his recruitment criteria to logistics, and these men did indeed meet his requirements, but none of them were the sort of talent that made one's eyes light up.

"Gary Farman, fifteen years old. Recruit. Second overall in recruit training camp. Rank: late-stage Apprentice Knight."

Gell's eyes lit up. A late-stage Apprentice Knight could already be cultivated as a core close-combat fighter. Even on a battleship, there was never such a thing as too many talented people who had embarked on the Extraordinary Path.

Why did the militaries of various nations not cultivate extraordinary armies on a large scale? Aside from the external factors mentioned before, a person's aptitude, compatibility with an extraordinary path, and the resources required for later cultivation all made this idealized approach impractical.

As for why Gary had been born with a physique as high as 0.7 rather than gaining it through the Knight training method, Gell had no idea.

Satisfied, Gell continued reading.

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

The moment he saw the name, Gell's heart felt as though it had been struck by lightning, and he shot to his feet. He had just been mourning his old friend and his descendants, only to see this familiar yet unfamiliar name the very next moment. How could he not lose his composure?

Then he rubbed his brow with a faintly amused smile. Was he still Gell Cowper, the man who could remain expressionless even before collapsing mountains and tsunamis?

"It should only be a coincidence of names. After Forman died of illness, his territory was overrun by a band of brigands because of an accident.

Forman's children all died amid the chaos. I went to see for myself. The town's later administrator gathered their bodies and erected gravestones for them. They were buried in the same cemetery as Forman and his wife.

I even gave the town administrator money to maintain the cemetery. That was only a few years ago."

"They... they really are gone... aren't they?"

His strange murmur echoed through the Captain's Cabin, gradually sinking into silence.

The brawl had ended. Following the captain's orders, boatswain Chris had Evan and Gary, the two victors, clean the deck they had dirtied.

Afterward, he returned to his room beside the Captain's Cabin.

He had spent the entire day accompanying the captain around the Naval Base to handle affairs. It was already evening, and he planned to rest for a while before going ashore that night to find somewhere to have a proper drink.

"Chris!!!" A sudden roar rang out beside the boatswain's ear. He sprang up on reflex and rushed outside. The captain would never call for him in that tone unless there was an emergency.

Bang—

"Captain!" Rushing into the Captain's Cabin, the boatswain was surprised to find that nothing major seemed to have happened.

Colonel Gell's expression was not stern either. Instead, there was something Chris had never seen on his face before. Was that... unease?

"Take me to this recruit's room. Immediately! At once!" No matter how slight the possibility, Gell did not want to let it pass.

"Yes, sir!"

When Chris saw the name "Evan Garratt" at the end of the roster, he had no idea what was happening, but the captain's orders were not his to question.

The dutiful boatswain immediately stood at attention and saluted, then took the lead toward Evan's room.