The firelight flickered on the cabin floor, slicing the room into light and dark.
A sheepskin bag soaked in saltwater lay on the table, its corners still carrying the scent of the sea.
Kavier untied the rough sealing rope and read out in a coarse voice: "The first batch of merchant ships from Red Tide Territory will set sail in two days, ten ships in the fleet, dispersed arrangement, destination Southeast Province."
Kavier first grinned broadly: "Finally, it's here."
"Ten escort ships..." he silently mouthed these words to himself.
There was no joy or fear in his eyes, only the cold calculation of every gain and loss.
Though the escorts were many, they were merely a drag chain.
The real profit lay in the holds filled with precious minerals.
The sheepskin map lay spread on the table, candlelight trembling on its surface.
Kavier picked up a rusty iron nail, pressing it onto a route, then traced three words on the map with his finger — Riptide Zone.
