Original Tree

Sensing the captain's approach, Ian asked without turning his head.

He was not showing off. He was deliberately acting calm enough, though the blood and grime all over his face and body made it somewhat less convincing.

The captain stopped four or five steps away from Ian and did not come any closer.

"No!"

"Bloody Hand Collier has long ranked among the top two hundred on the pirate bounty list. They say he mastered some kind of forbidden knowledge that mutated his left hand, allowing him to spread curses through that bloody hand and control others."

"Bloody Hand acts like a madman and has enemies everywhere."

"I bet he's got a headache figuring out how to deal with those restless pirates under him! After all, can Bloody Hand without a hand still be called Bloody Hand?"

"Hahaha... cough—"

The more the captain spoke, the more delighted he sounded, until he accidentally tugged at the wound on his chest. It was clear that he truly hated those pirates. This time, the losses had been far too great.

"Captain, you should treat your wound first," Ian said as he turned around and looked at the captain, who was even coughing up bloody foam.

"My name is Homan. Homan Davis, captain of the Windbreaker."

"I do need to leave for a while. I think dinner would be a good time to talk."

"Alright."

"Milta—"

"I'm here, Captain," replied a short sailor with messy medium-length hair as he hurried over.

"Clean up the best room on the ship! Take this gentleman there to rest."

"Understood, Captain. This, uh, sir, please follow me."

The best room on the ship was not particularly good either. It was in the quarterdeck, cramped, dark, and damp. Fortunately, it had a wooden window, so the air was fairly fresh.

Ian had already been mentally prepared. Having a quiet, private place was good enough.

"Milta, right? What's the date today?" Ian asked, stopping the short sailor.

"Uh... today, um... it should be November 12th, sir."

"Alright, thank you. Could you bring me a bucket of fresh water as well?"

"Of course, of course I can, sir!"

The young sailor named Milta seemed a little excited.

Before long, Milta brought over a bucket of fresh water. After thanking him, Ian sent him away.

Ian used his spiritual senses to check the bucket of fresh water. Other than being a little dirty, there was nothing wrong with it. He stirred his Mana to purify it simply, took a few sips to moisten his throat, and did not drink much.

Though he was exhausted and hungry, it was nothing much for someone who had stepped onto the path of the extraordinary. He could still hold on.

His priority was to clean himself and tend to his wounds, then examine his physical condition in detail.

Ian took off his clothes. Delicate Mana moved at his will, carrying water as it lightly rolled over every part of his body.

He used up half a bucket of fresh water. Only after the water had turned into a murky, sticky slurry did he barely manage to clean himself seven or eight parts out of ten. With a wave of his hand, Ian flicked the dirty water far out the window and into the sea.

With another faint ripple of Mana, a small amount of water turned into a mirror under Ian's control and floated before him.

A strange man from a foreign land appeared in the mirror. He was tall, clearly over 185 centimeters, without bulky muscles, yet lean and upright.

There was still a hint of youthfulness on his face. He was handsome, fair-skinned, with sharply defined features. His shoulder-length golden hair hung loose, and his black eyes were deep as an abyss, impossible to see through.

What a ridiculously handsome face. He was only slightly inferior to those bookish gentlemen!

Using both his eyes and spiritual senses, Ian carefully examined his condition. Apart from his depleted spirituality and Mana, as well as several minor external wounds that had already closed, there were no other problems.

For now, it seemed that the spell curse suffered by the previous owner of this body had left behind no aftereffects. It had disappeared after the previous owner died. Of course, it was also possible that the Fate Card which had brought him across worlds had removed it.

Ian picked up his clothes. They consisted of a gray warrior's undershirt and a black belted alchemical robe. They were not badly damaged, but like his boots, they were so filthy they were almost unrecognizable.

Ian used the remaining water to clean his clothes roughly, then put them back on. Restoring his spirituality and Mana was the most urgent matter now.

He locked the door, activated Emergency Guard once more, then sat directly on the floor and entered deep meditation.

In his spiritual world, the Original Tree pulsed gently as though breathing. Its invisible roots, spread throughout his body like a neural network, continuously drew magical energy from the outside world. The Original Tree then constantly converted it into Mana. Its branches and leaves swayed softly, endlessly distributing Mana throughout the spiritual space.

The entire spiritual world was filled with vitality, sunlight, gentle breezes, and fine rain. The sea of Mana rose without end.

Ian immersed all his consciousness in the Original Tree, as though he had entered a mother's womb. Warm, relaxed, free, safe—his exhausted spirituality sank into slumber.

He did not awaken from meditation until he sensed approaching footsteps.

At that moment, he felt completely refreshed. His spirituality was full, his Mana surged, and even his spiritual world seemed to have expanded somewhat.

His refined spirituality shone brightly, as though it might overflow. His body was warm and full of vitality, while his wounds tingled slightly and had already scabbed over.

In Ian's memories, restoring nearly exhausted spirituality and Mana would take at least a full day and night even with the aid of potions.

Yet by Ian's reckoning, only four or five hours at most had passed!

He sensed the Fate Card still hanging high above his spiritual world. It seemed she was responsible for this change!

Surprises were everywhere. He had gained another source of confidence!

Knock, knock, knock. Someone knocked on the door.

Ian opened the door. The short sailor who had led him here earlier stood outside, holding an oil lamp.

"Uh... s-sir?"

The short sailor froze when he saw Ian standing in the doorway. The enormous change made him hesitate to recognize him.

"Milta, is something wrong?"

"S-sir, the captain has invited you to dinner."

"Alright. Lead the way."

Dinner was not arranged in the sailors' mess hall, but in the captain's cabin.

The captain's cabin was on the upper deck of the quarterdeck, not far away.

"We're here, sir. Please come in!"

"Welcome!" The captain, who had been waiting by the door, was dressed casually and smiling as he pulled the door open.

Ian smiled at the short sailor by the doorway, then stepped into the room.

The captain's cabin was comparatively spacious. Thick candles burned in all four corners, and several oil lamps hung from the ceiling, making the room fairly bright.

A table covered with nautical charts and other documents had been pushed into a corner. A low dining table had been secured in the middle of the room, covered with all kinds of dishes. The wooden tableware holding the food was mostly set into the table itself.

"The ship's cook used to work at the Iron Tree Tavern on Paradise Island. He's especially good at honey-glazed grilled fish. It tastes exactly like the tavern's."

The captain appeared to be in good spirits. Even the grayish-white beard on his face had been carefully groomed as he smiled and guided Ian to his seat.

Ian's seat faced the door from the side. Not far behind the captain, that azure curved blade hung on the wall. Apparently, he was not as relaxed as he appeared.

"Mm, it looks pretty good," Ian said against his conscience after glancing at the grilled fish, which clearly did not look very appetizing.

"I am Homan Davis, captain of the Windbreaker. I serve under the Hansa Trading Company of the Poldoria Kingdom, and I've sailed the route between Storm Cape and Paradise Island for more than ten years."

"I thought I would be returning to the embrace of the God of Storms today."