"I see a pretty decent job," Gauss said.
"I see it too—and I bet it's the same one you saw," Alia snickered.
Serandur only shook his head. He didn't speak, but he'd guessed it as well.
"The Shore-Walker Goblins at the Tidal Caverns," Alia cut in before Gauss could say it.
"Huh—same one, alright."
"Hehe."
Alia just smiled. She'd teamed with Gauss long enough to know his taste in commissions—especially for warm-ups, he always defaulted to goblins. At this point it was practically muscle memory. The rest of the team didn't mind.
The newcomer Shadow glanced at the three of them sharing a look and wore an odd expression. With this many options in the task crystal, how had they silently landed on the same one? Shared brain cell?
She didn't know the party's quirks yet; her only job with them so far had been the recent Blackfang commission.
"How'd you guess?" Shadow asked, unable to resist, as Alia basked.
"It's not hard." Alia waved it off with the air of a veteran. High level or not, she'd been here the longest; she knew Gauss best—and as the senior member, she felt obliged to pass along the party's "unwritten rules" to the newbie.
"Just remember this, Shadow: if goblins are on the board, pick goblins. If there are multiple goblin jobs, pick the closest one with the most targets.
"If we've been off commissions for a while, the odds we take goblins go way up."
"…"
Listening to Alia rattle off completely useless "personal wisdom," Gauss rubbed his forehead.
"Alright, you're done showing off."
"Thanks."
"That… wasn't a compliment."
They confirmed the commission with the guild staff, took the scroll, and were about to head out when a clerk added, "Mr. Gauss, Director Adèle is in today as well."
"Oh. Got it," Gauss nodded, though he found it odd. Adèle worked here; even as senior staff, her being on site was normal. Why the heads-up?
Even outside the doors, Alia was still curious. "Gauss, you need to see Adèle? If you've got business, we can wait."
"No, sword lessons are done," Gauss shook his head. "Let's focus on the job."
He had a hunch the staff had misread something about him, but he couldn't be bothered to dwell. In life, pour yourself into one thing and do it well; if you take it to the limit, you'll achieve what most can't. For them, that one thing was commissions. Everything else was detail. Keep walking the path and the rest comes.
Outside the guild, the four—already packed—lost no time. They picked a heading, swung into their saddles, and rode out.
They'd chosen a relatively nearby job, but it would still take some travel. There were closer commissions, but most were non-combat city work—or in the sewers. Sewers were a bad choice: dark, damp, filthy, and a maze of twists—perfect for mutant beasts and wanted criminals to hide.
Riding through the streets with the sea breeze at their backs, they left the houses behind and the ocean opened up before them. Waves rolled in, white foam slapping sand and reef. Farther out, endless blue glittered with gold; sea and sky blurred into one line.
The moist, salty wind whipped their hair.
"So wide…"
It was the sort of view that made you forget you weren't on vacation. But beaches in this world had few common folk—too many dangers lurked offshore, any day a wave could hide a monster that snatched you under.
They tore themselves away and followed the map. This target was a band of goblin pirates—unlike landbound tribes, these had no fixed nest, drifting around the Tidal Caverns area. They needed to reach a nearby pier and board a merchantman the guild had arranged to take them to the goblins' waters.
They followed the coastal road a while until a busy little dock came into view. Much smaller than Sena's main ports, it hosted mostly fishing boats and small coastal traders. Small, but fully functional—and lively. Fishermen hauled baskets of catch ashore; the air was thick with fish reek, boat varnish, and wet wood.
Following the scroll's instructions, they found the Seagull at its berth: a sturdy-looking medium twin-masted sloop, hull worn but well kept. Sailors were on deck checking rigging and washing down. They'd clearly been told adventurers would be boarding.
As the four led their mounts up, the crew noticed. A broad-shouldered man in a faded blue coat and tricorn came to the rail, eyeing them.
"What can we do for you?"
Gauss swung down from his chocobo; the guild's commission scroll rose to float before him. "We're the adventurers hired to clear the Shore-Walker Goblins near the Tidal Caverns. Is Captain Fern aboard?"
At the words "Shore-Walker Goblins," the man's eyes lit and his tension eased.
"Boss, the Guild folks are here."
Soon a middle-aged man came down—compact but iron-solid, skin a polished bronze.
A professional?
Gauss's senses were sharp now. He felt the man's odd current the moment he appeared—then it clicked: he wasn't a captain who happened to be a professional; he was a captain because he was one.
The sea's full of threats—below the surface and human pirates besides. Farther out, even merchantmen sometimes drop flags and turn pirate for easy pickings. Coastal captains need strength—at least enough to handle common pirates and undersea dangers.
"I'm Fern. Didn't expect you so soon," the man rumbled, gripping Gauss's hand. The party introduced themselves.
"You know the situation. The Seagull will assist you in taking out those goblin pirates. Aside from me and my first mate, the crew are ordinary—so the heavy lifting's on you."
Gauss nodded. He'd read the brief: the Seagull was transport; the adventurers did the work. From the sound of it, Fern would lend a hand, too—not that Gauss needed it, but the intent counted. And there was another professional aboard: the first mate, the captain's right hand and deck lead—second only to the captain.
Beyond them: boatswain, helmsman, sailors, cook. Bigger ships had even more roles—navigator, lookout, surgeon, repair teams.
"Can you give us specifics on those goblins?"
"No problem. They run light craft and rafts, won't face big ships head-on. They pick on small traders and fishing boats. They'll toss hooked lines to catch a rail and climb like monkeys—or dive to hole a hull. Vicious little bastards—spears and sharpened bones. Some throw jars stuffed with rotting fish and shrimp." As he talked, Barton's face twisted in disgust. "They're nimble in water, but they can't stay under long. They still rely on boats and rafts."
They traded a few more details.
"When do we sail?" Gauss asked.
"Wind's right—now." Fern confirmed they didn't need rest and waved them aboard.
He led the way. After stowing chocobos and horses, the four filed up the gangplank. The moment Gauss's boots hit the deck, the feel underfoot changed—rolling gently with the shore waves. He frowned a touch. Compared to solid ground, a ship lacked a certain steadiness.
"Welcome aboard the Seagull," Fern said easily. For those who lived at sea, stepping onto land felt stranger.
The damp deck was clean; light ballistae sat at bow and stern. Gauss also met the first mate, Rayne—an experienced archer who'd once been an adventurer himself, until age pushed him toward something steadier.
The Seagull raised sail and eased off the pier. The wind bellied the canvas and drove them toward the blue.
They had little baggage; though Fern had cabins ready, none of them felt like going below. Except for Serandur, it was everyone's first time this close to the sea—let alone underway—and they were quietly thrilled. The hull rocked more as they left the calm harbor.
Gauss felt a flicker of seasickness at first, but his physique shrugged it off. Alia and Shadow adjusted after a short silence; Alia even let her companions out for air. The raven Echo wheeled excitedly around the mast, tasting the open sea.
"You folks could buy a boat and explore one day," Fern joked, keeping them company. "The Coral Bay's lively waters."
"Boats are expensive, aren't they?"
"Yes and no," Fern said. "With your strength, you could snag a fine light ship soon enough, if you wanted. There are tens of thousands of uninhabited isles around here—no one's ever counted them all. Beyond rare beasts and plants, you sometimes find treasures someone buried long ago—or wrecks. They say a legendary sword saint passed through here and left a hoard in these waters. No one's found it yet."
"Maybe it's fake," Gauss said.
"Could be. At the very least, shady merchants use that story to sell convincing, fake treasure maps. If you do go hunting, keep your guard up."
"Thanks. We will," Gauss nodded. The chart showed plenty of islands scattered across the expanse. Sea and treasure—of course those two travel together.
After a time, the endless blue bored Alia and the others; with a nod to Gauss, they went below to rest. He stayed at the bow, chatting idly with Fern—mostly picking up sailing basics and possible risks. He didn't plan to buy a ship soon or shift his focus to the ocean—but it never hurt to learn early.
Suddenly, a harpoon burst from the water straight at Gauss at the prow. As a sailor shouted in alarm, Gauss simply raised a hand; mana pooled in his palm, and he caught the charging tip in an iron grip.
"Impatient," he said evenly—and flicked a calm glance down into the sea.
~~~
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