Whipping (Part 2)

The morning sun rose, scattering a myriad rays across the sea.

The rippling sea had once been deeply moving, but now it only made one feel sorrowful.

A sailing ship had set out, its canvas driven by the wind as white spray frothed across the waves.

On the first day at sea after leaving his territory, Romon's lips had already cracked.

It was not that the people aboard the ship were mistreating him or refusing him water. After his display of force, every captain and sailor had become exceedingly tactful. Yet no matter how much clear water he drank, it could not ease the stifled resentment and fury in his heart.

How was he supposed to walk the road ahead? If he did not return home for seven years, what would become of his family?

The more he thought about it, the more miserable he became.

Especially his two children—one could not even call for anyone yet, while the other could not even crawl. If he left for seven years under such circumstances, would the children greeting him upon his return already be able to speak?

For seven years, he would not be able to stay by his children's side, watch them grow, touch them, see them smile at him, stroke their tender little faces, or hear their mischievous cries...

Those seven years were time that could never be made up for. What he lost during those seven years would become an everlasting regret in his heart.

He would be unable to watch his own son go from crawling to walking. He would not hear the first words from his son and daughter. Over those seven years, he would miss far too much. No amount of money or effort could ever recover such things. Whenever Romon thought of this, it