Bertich Kingdom, Dana Port.
The sea breeze, carrying a faint salty tang, swept across the docks, where everything was bustling with activity.
Massive dark brown wooden pilings were driven deep into the seawater, with planks built atop them to form an enormous offshore dock that extended the coastline more than a hundred meters out to sea.
Waves flecked with white foam gently lapped against the pilings. Reinforced with simple spells, the wooden platforms were sturdy and durable enough to withstand the erosion of waves and storms.
It was morning, the busiest time at Dana Port.
Numerous laborers in brown tunics streamed back and forth. Drenched in sweat, they unloaded goods brought from afar and carried them into warehouses on the docks, while also loading all manner of Bertich Kingdom goods onto merchant ships to carry these local specialties to distant lands.
At that moment, a medium-sized merchant ship slowly sailed toward the docks, inching closer to its berth under the dockmaster's direction.
Quite a few laborers who had rested for a moment gathered around, waiting to be hired.
These laborers were all locals, earning their pay through physical work.
Although every merchant ship arriving at Dana Port brought plenty of its own sailors, handling cargo had always fallen within the laborers' domain.
Even if every sailor aboard personally carried the ship's cargo ashore, the handling fee still had to be paid in full.
Those were the "rules" established by the nobles and officials who controlled Dana Port!
Though most of the payment ended up in those nobles' pockets, the scraps left over were still something the laborers born into poverty fought over.
While waiting, the laborers began chatting among themselves.
"I heard there's fighting going on in the west?"
"How old is that news? That's nothing new."
"Haha, I heard