An hour later, the Wingspan, the Sunrise, and the Goddess of Victory Iris brought Nevall and the captured pirates to an island roughly forty kilometers southeast of the site of last night's robbery.
The island, which Regsal had named Thunder Island, was not actually small. Even from the Wingspan's towering deck, they could not see its far edge.
Judging by eye, Nevall estimated that it was at least five kilometers across.
From a distance, they saw women and children gathered on the beach. As the three enormous Mana-Powered Ships approached, the crowd stirred, their voices rising in a chatter. Some of the children even jumped up and down, seemingly excited.
"Are these your pirate group's families?" Nevall asked Regsal beside him.
"Yes." Regsal nodded expressionlessly.
"Then how many people are on the island altogether? Including these women and children," Nevall asked again.
Regsal gave Nevall a puzzled look. A thought struck him, and a flicker of alarm crossed his face.
These three ships carried weapons of such tremendous power that their owners could hardly be ordinary merchants.
Now this fellow was asking about the women and children on the island. Could they... could they actually be slave traders?
Nevall noticed Regsal's strange expression, but did not realize that he had gotten the wrong idea. It hardly mattered, though. With Regsal and more than a hundred of his men in his custody, he was not worried about any tricks.
"Tell me how many people there are. If there are enough, I might be able to think of a better way for us to cooperate."
Hearing Nevall use the word "cooperate" again, Regsal still found it rather unbelievable.
He simply could not understand what he had to offer that would make this man want to cooperate with him.
"Well... including the boys,