Lear had a dream.

He dreamed that he was leading an invincible fleet across the seas and was invincible, but just when he was complacent, the situation changed.

In the distance, a thick cloud of ink floated over the sea, the clouds rolled and the dead roared, and the evil and ugly lich opened its green eyes in the clouds.

An emaciated necromancer stepped out onto the surface of the sea on a tall undead horse, his face showing compassion for all beings.

Sandru!

Without any pleasantries or conversations, Lear's fleet launched a relentless attack directly on the other side.

The artillery fire was full of dark clouds, and the broken bones and stumps fell on the sea like the autumn rain of September.

But after a flash of green light, the dark cloud returned to its original state.

Sandru put on a piece of armor with the head of a demon with goat's horns on his chest, and he waved his hand at him, and the demon opened his blood-red eyes.

The hull of the ship became unusually heavy, even the surface of the sea became viscous, red skeletal scepters appeared on everyone's chest, and the cold water elemental poured into everyone's body like heavy lead.

A huge ink eagle fell above the fleet, and everyone felt the pain.

Cursed Armor!

But before Lear could cast a healing or exorcism spell on the team, the dark cloud suddenly dispersed, and thousands of Lich and Lich King appeared beneath the sky.

Clouds of death rushed into the fleet faster than cannonballs.

Whether it's a ship or a living thing, if you let the cloud of death get on it, it's instantly engulfed by corrosion.

The warriors fell to the surface of the sea with a terrible howl, the ships slowly sank, and Sandru's wild laughter made even the sky and sea tremble.

Defeated, defeated completely.

It's like the one that happened before.

When Lear opened his eyes, he was sweating profusely.

"Sir, Landeig said that a ship was parked in the open sea, and Mr. Jeremy is back, do you want to pick him up?"

Ivo's voice rang out outside the door, and Lear looked up at the sky outside the window, and it was almost noon.

This dream is too long, and it will continue to grow, and I don't know when it will end.

"Go ahead and tell Landrig I'll wait for them in the council hall. ”

Lear felt tired, and he needed to meditate for a while, just in time for Jeremy to reach the council hall.

............

"What's the news this time?"

Lear sat on the throne with his head propped up, and looked at Jeremy below with a half-playful look, and the gentleman did not have the slightest awareness of being an emissary, and stood with his hands in front of him the whole time.

"My brother accepted all the conditions you put forward earlier, but he added that the artillery I have researched is not within the limit of ten guns per year, of course, we will also provide the materials at the price, and my brother will provide a large number of excellent craftsmen for this piece, and he said that this is not negotiable. ”

Jeremy looked at Lear with a blank eye, he still hadn't said the second half of his sentence, if Lear refused, it would be war, but Lear certainly understood the meaning in his eyes.

"I agreed. ”

Hearing Lear say this, Jeremy breathed a long sigh of relief.

To tell the truth, he would rather stay in Spartacus than stay in the Deep Blue City, and he also knew deep in his heart that without Lear's guidance and advice, he would not be able to make anything on his own.

Of course, Lear knows what Jeremy is thinking, and he doesn't bother to poke it, in fact he is very happy to keep Jeremy humble and unconfident at this stage.

Although this idea is wrong.

Misty Island is now in the early stages of development, and it is also the most expansive stage of rise, and he needs someone to take care of everything for him.

If he does everything himself, he will soon be drowned in a sea of complicated trivialities, which is very detrimental to his personal development.

Ideally, you can be a hands-off shopkeeper and just do everything with initial guidance and final decisions.

As time goes by, the initial guidance can be saved is a goal that must be achieved, and he doesn't want to care about the things that are not particularly important if the final decision is made.

He needs to bring blood and resources to the Misty Islands, and then let it go in the direction he needs, and more importantly, he himself must maintain the deterrence to be able to harness this power at all times.

Being eaten up is no fun thing, and he slowly realizes that with the expansion of his contact with the world, his own strength has once again entered a relatively weak level.

............

A dozen nautical miles west of Misty Island, a three-masted galleon was sailing in the waves, its mottled hull covered with scars, and the sea water was pouring in through several terrifying holes in the bottom of the port side, and after sailing a distance of one or two nautical miles, the hull tilted more and more obviously.

"Grandpa! Our ship is running out!"

A blonde boy of seventeen or eighteen years old suddenly slipped off the mainmast, and he shouted loudly to the old man on the deck who was looking over the broadside.

Looking at his slightly panicked appearance, it seemed that he was being chased by something, but the wind and waves behind them were calm and there were no waves, and there was no movement at all.

"Hey, can't you escape after all?"

The old man stared solemnly at the calm sea behind him, his eyes full of unwillingness.

Unlike normal humans, in addition to the old wrinkles eroded by the wind and sun, his cheeks and neck were covered with thin blue scales, the same scales that grew on his dark arms and instep if you looked closely.

There are scales on his body, which is the mark of the fish-people, but the scale coverage on his body is very scarce compared to the real fish-people, so there is only one possibility left - half-blood.

Fish-people are very lewd, and their degree is even comparable to that of dragons, whether it is humans, mermaids or even krakens, as long as they are caught by the slightest appearance of the opposite sex, they will not let go, so this sea is full of fish-people and other creatures of mixed species, like the old man is not uncommon.

These hybrids are numerous, but they have a tragic fate, because the fish-people have no idea of descendants.

Considering themselves to be masters of the sea, they only identify with the offspring born of the union of pure-blooded fish-people, and the products of catharsis are considered by them to be inferior hybrids, born slaves.

These people are struggling to survive in the country ruled by the fishmen, and the lucky ones are chosen by the fishmen nobles to be dolls or servants, and many more are directly used as the first wave of cannon fodder to be sent to the battlefield.

Someone once proposed to the nobles and lords to improve the treatment of the hybrids, after all, if the hybrids with a huge population base are truly condensed, coupled with the natural protection of the sea god sirens for the fishmen, sweeping the entire endless sea is as simple as searching for the fishmen.

But this suggestion was met with scoffs from all the fish-man aristocrats.

They believed that the Fish-People had enough power to conquer the sea, and that some pirates were only allowed to exist by relying on the Fish-People's breath and the need to satisfy the necessities of life, and they did not need the power of these lowly mongrestrals.

On the contrary, the large base of hybrids has always been quite guarded against pure-bloods, and it is easy for them to have bloodlines with other species, but it is difficult for pure-bloods to have offspring, which seems to have become a curse.

In order to maintain the purity of the bloodline and the stability of their power, the Fish-Folk even regularly purge slave groups and half-blood colonies so that they can maintain absolute authority and suppression.

This alone makes it difficult for the half-breed races on this sea to survive.

Old Kirk and his grandson Galen were two such hybrids, and the dozens of sailors on their ships were all slaves like this.

However, their escape this time was not due to regular ethnic cleansing, but because as a decades-old shipwright, he had mastered a certain technology in his shipbuilding career that could upend the current era of sailing.

Realizing the changes this technology could bring, Kirk Sr. immediately gathered the boatmen and ordered the news to be blocked, knowing the fish-people's temperament, he knew that the news would not only bring them good luck, but would bring disaster.

But he underestimated the greed of human nature and the strong desire of the half-blood race to change their fate.

Eventually, the word leaked out, and the Fish-Man Lord who ruled them sent an army to demand that Old Kirk hand over the blueprints and gather all those in the know, and he understood what that meant.

While the guards were searching for insiders, Old Kirk led his crew in a riot, killing the few fish-man guards guarding the ship and lowering the huge sails.

This is also thanks to the conceit of the fishmen and their contempt for them, otherwise if the fishmen warriors had captured them in the first place, old Kirk would have had to wait for death.

By the time the fishmen arrived at the news and drove the sea beasts into the sea to pursue them, the old Kirk's three-masted galleon had already fled the harbor for several nautical miles.

Unlike ordinary seagoing vessels, the old Kirk added a foremast and a foremast to this ship, and several sails on the foremast and midmast, and a spinnaker on the backmast.

Because of this, their ship has been able to maintain its speed for so many days under the pursuit of the fishmen.

However, this was already the limit, the lack of supplies and the rush of time were not enough for him to completely renovate the hull, and the hastily hung sails were still very dependent on the wind, and the other day when the wind was good, when the monsoon turned, the tridents of the fish people and the sharp teeth of the sea beasts began to leave chisel marks on the hull everywhere.

If it weren't for the high level of old Kirk's boats, the fishmen would have climbed up to the deck and slaughtered them.

Bursts of intense ripples began to appear on the surface of the sea hundreds of meters behind the boat, and the sun shone down to illuminate the shadows of the rapid pursuit under the water, and there were more than one.

Something was rapidly approaching again.

At this moment, a thick fog appeared in Old Kirk's field of vision, slowly wriggling like a miasma that devoured all life, he looked behind him, and then looked ahead, and suddenly a flash of determination flashed in his eyes.

"Full speed ahead!

......