"Time waits for no one, Mr. Padorn. Without valuable clues, we won't find that Elf before White Gull docks!" Stephen sat cross-legged, extracting paper and pen from his pocket.
"What are you up to?" Dave flinched.
Stephen elucidated, "Relax. I just want to jot down our conversation. Revisiting the words often unveils unexpected insights. It's my little secret technique, which I'm now sharing with you."
Dave inquired, "Are you sure it won't end up in some magazine?"
Without hesitation, Stephen raised his right hand, "I swear by the Seven Gods, I respect your privacy!"
"The Seven Gods? Are you a follower of the Church of Light?" Dave scrutinized Stephen with suspicion.
"Didn't you notice? I have a distinctly tall stature. It's the hallmark of a giant lineage. I assume you don't need me to spell out what that implies?" Stephen asserted confidently.
The giant lineage referred to the descendants of the legendary first Giant King, Montagne, who was said to have vanquished the Elf Queen.
Today, most of these individuals resided in the far north of the continent.
And in the northern Pangboton Kingdom, the Church of Light still had a substantial following, especially on the fringes of the wildlands, the primary mission fields for the priests.
The logic seemed sound.
Yet, a hunch told Bairon that Stephen was bluffing.
"I'll take your word for it," Dave offhandedly remarked.
Stephen snapped his fingers, "Excellent! Once the foundation of trust is established, we can delve into deeper cooperation!"
Bairon finally understood why Stephen wasn't popular on the ship.
He was insufferably presumptuous.
Dave Padorn, suppressing his distaste, pointed at Bairon, "Is he also in cahoots with you to capture that Elf?"
"I'm just here to ensure Stephen's safety," Bairon retorted.
"My family also employs many Battle Magi as guards. Though most of the time, I treat them like pet dogs, and they are incredibly patient," Dave scoffed coldly.
In truth, it was yet to be determined whether this Elf was genuine.
Furthermore, if she truly was an Elf, matters could escalate to a grim state.
Elves are inherently magi.
For a commoner to oppose a magus, there's an inevitable process they must go through: expending lives to drain the magus of their Mindergy.
This is a treacherous and blood-soaked process.
Hence, Stephen secretly enlisted Bairon, probably the only Battle Magus on White Gull with actual combat experience.
"That wench, she has pointed ears!" Dave spat coldly.
Every Elf has pointed ears...
Stephen mused internally but showed no outward reaction.
Instead, he remarked thoughtfully, "I noticed them too when I saw her performance at the restaurant."
"I thought they were fake then!" Dave exclaimed.
"And then?" Stephen inquired, picking up his pen, jotting down notes.
"She looked rather plain, but she had enticingly shapely legs. After the meal, I sent a servant with two gold coins to find her in the lower deck cabins."
"Two coins, a whole two of them. Enough for the largest brothel in San Sorus to offer me a maiden. Yet, that wench refused. She said it wasn't enough, demanding a hundred!" Dave gritted his teeth.
Stephen cautiously glanced at him before continuing his notes.
Bairon turned to leave.
The security in Dave Padorn's room was more than adequate, and he had no interest in Dave's escapades.
All the first-class cabins were on the same deck.
A few steps more, and Bairon reached his own quarters.
As he pressed his hand on the doorknob, about to push it open, he hesitated, his pupils narrowing.
Due to years spent guarding the Shadeveil Mountains relic entrance, Bairon had developed a multitude of cautious habits.
For instance, he liked placing small indicators at key points, like tents or room doors.
If someone tried sneaking in during his absence, Bairon would be alerted.
On this cabin door, Bairon had pinned a strand of hair.
Now, that hair was missing.
Could it have been Captain Frank?
The first mate?
Dave Padorn, or perhaps one of his servants?
...
Bairon mentally sifted through all the possible intruders, even contemplating the likelihood of Evelyn, who waited on the deck, coming in.
However, in the end, one figure loomed most prominently in his mind: the missing "Elf."
Pushing the door open, Bairon was met with a silhouette, back turned to him, seemingly searching for something.
The door gave a creaky "squeal."
The figure jolted in surprise, quickly turning to face the entrance.
Meeting Bairon's amused gaze was none other than the actress who played the Elf queen in the theatrical troupe.
"What are you looking for?" Bairon asked with a playful smile.
"This!" the figure retorted.
The woman swiftly grabbed a book from the table and hurled it at Bairon.
Almost simultaneously, she chanted hastily, "Wind Blade!"
Below the book, a Wind Blade materialized, aiming straight for Bairon.
Such a trick was hardly novel for a Battle Magus who'd guarded ancient gates.
"You're actually a Battle Magus," Bairon remarked, a hint of surprise evident in his tone.
Swiftly raising his hand, he whispered, "Ice Blast."
A cubed ice shield, about ten centimeters in length, formed instantly.
As the Wind Blade approached, the ice barrier materialized just in time.
The two spells clashed — the Wind Blade dissipated on impact, and the ice cube shattered, scattering its remains on the floor.
The woman took a deep breath, involuntarily swallowing.
A sign that her Mindergy had momentarily been drained.
In stark contrast, Bairon seemed utterly unfazed, his breathing unchanged.
This was one of the benefits of manipulating the Magic Circuit with Mindergy.
Creating smaller spell constructs meant a lighter drain on one's Mindergy.
"Advanced Magus!"
The woman exclaimed, her voice a mix of shock and skepticism.
Even within the White Tower, an Advanced Magus was a rank deserving of respect.
Outside, they could effortlessly serve as Chief Steward of a Magus Tower, especially in bustling cities with populations exceeding a hundred thousand.
These distinguished figures, powerful as they were, usually had their hands full.
The woman thought herself quite unlucky to have come across an Advanced Magus aboard the White Gull, and an exceptionally young one at that.
"Wait, you're not an Advanced Magus!" she suddenly realized, laughing.
"Someone as young as you, if truly an Advanced Magus, would certainly bear the title 'Son of the White Tower.' But I found no emblem of the White Tower in your room."
"Madam, rummaging through someone's belongings is quite impolite," Bairon said, his tone icy as he looked over the disheveled room.
Evelyn had spent half the day meticulously organizing everything.
"You may address me as Seasoft, Lord Stewart," the woman introduced herself, then added with a hint of warning, "Though you're powerful, a direct confrontation might be too much for this ship to handle."
Even though the White Gull's next stop was Sail Town and they were "about" to arrive, that "about" still meant over an hour away.
This distance, even for an Advanced Magus, was too vast to magically transport oneself from the sea to the shore.
So Seasoft's caution wasn't misplaced.
She had the capability to bring about mutual destruction.
"Allow me to leave, and I promise no one will ever know you let me go," Seasoft said with a confident smirk.
"You may leave, but only after you've tidied this room," Bairon countered, taking a step forward.