As they advanced, the voice of the Captain attempting to pacify the crowd became audible.
"I'll speak with the Highlords myself, even though I'm not permitted to discuss issues concerning the families. But you fools obviously don't understand," he sighed.
The man stood near the door, the agitated crowd pressed up close.
"But Captain, the longer we wait, the greater the risk they face. They could be in danger at any moment," a voice rang out.
"He saved us during the Dance of the Kraken!" another voice chimed in.
"If the World Bringer was alright, he would've saved them," added another voice.
"Please, stay on your feet, lad, and do some work," the Captain desperately said. "I'll speak with the Highlords regarding the matter and see what can be done."
The odd thing was, beyond the cluster of people near the captain's cabin, the rest of the crew seemed nonchalant, going about their daily tasks as if the unfolding drama had nothing to do with them.
'Dance of the Kraken?! Is that what they call that night? Interesting.'
Morvain couldn't help but find the term captivating. It had a certain flair to it, a melody in the midst of chaos. He envisioned his tale echoing across the realm, casting him as the hero who emerged from the shadows during the mesmerizing 'Dance of the Kraken.'
'Oooooohhhhhh.' Morvain swooned.
"Ahem, what is all this commotion here?" said the lord in a booming voice, ensuring the masses heard him loud and clear.
"It's Young Lord Ravencore!" They all bowed quickly.
"Along with the World Bringer!" The announcement sent ripples of hushed whispers through the crowd.
They all rushed forward.
Lord Ravencore extended his hands and said, "Now, now, now. No need for the rush, I'll hear you al--"
But they all ignored him, running straight to their savior.
"World Bringer, are you alright?!" asked a middle-aged man.
"Are your injuries healed?"
"Of course, idiot, his injuries are healed. He's a World Bringer, after all. They don't go down with those teeny tiny injuries."
"Ohhhhh."
"That is so right!"
'What a bunch of morons.' Morvain shook his head.
"Son," a hauntingly familiar voice echoed from the back of the crowd.
The old man, a silhouette against the sea of faces, shuffled through the crowd. As he drew near Morvain, the dim light revealed the black hair and the weariness etched on his face. It was Rony's father.
"Ron, how have you been?" Morvain asked, gripping the old man's hands tenderly.
"I've heard what happened to you, and I hope you're alright," said Ron. "We all are in debt to you. For saving our lives. For everything. I know this isn't the time to ask you about this, but I don't have anywhere else to go..."
Morvain laid a comforting hand on the old man's shoulder.
"I understand your predicament. I know he's foolish, but this time, he was just defending me and my lord, and fear not, I'll save him. No, not me. He-" Morvain pointed at the embarrassed lord at the front, drawing every eye towards him. The captain, with a smirk, seemed to be mocking him. "-He's the man who's going to save both the heroes. I mean, how could he not? Both the falsely accused people are heroes who battled against death. He will save them."
"Yeah!" came a chorus of agreement, accompanied by clapping hands.
On the other side, Lord Ravencore stared at them, eyes wide open.
"M-me?" His voice quivered.
"Yes, you, my lord," Morvain walked forward to the lord. "Who else, my lord? You, who saved this wretched soul from the darkness, will be the one to free the heroes." Then he turned towards the crowd and proclaimed, "Lord Nolan Ravencore will save the heroes!"
The proclamation was met with a chorus of agreement and cheering hands and voices.
Lord Ravencore observed the cheering, celebrating, chanting crowd with a mixture of disgust, irritation, and bafflement, almost simultaneously. The only thing that kept him silent were the eyes.
He walked a little forward and called Morvain near him. "What are you doing, Eldric? Proclaiming something like this in front of the masses, are you out of your mind?" There was an edge to the words.
"Relax, my lord," said the faithful servant. "Who am I to you?"
"What?"
"Who am I to you? Just answer the question."
"My servant," the young lord answered, and when he saw his servant raising an eyebrow, he quickly added, "My advisor."
"Yes, your advisor," Morvain clasped the lord's shoulders together. "Now, as your advisor, would I do something stupid to tarnish your name?"
"I guess not," answered the lord with no enthusiasm.
"Yes, not at all. Think about this for a moment. This is the perfect opportunity you can get to garner name and support from the lowborns. I'm a hero, and already associating with me has garnered you some support from the lowborns, right?"
Lord Ravencore nodded thoughtfully. Being the lord of a hero from the slums had already elevated his position in the social standings of the highborns. He could sense the envy from his fellow highborns.
"Now imagine you standing up for the lowborns and releasing two heroes who fought to save all of us from the evil clutches of another arrogant lord? Who would they support when it comes to succession—you, the hero of the people, or your brothers?"
Morvain spoke with such enthusiasm and excitement that it felt surreal and absurd to listen to him.
The lord gave a thoughtful look at the people for a moment, then said, "You are a genius, Eldric." The young lord pulled him closer in the midst of the chanting. "I suppose this could only make me stronger. No wonder I made you my advisor. I shall speak for your heroes and get them out of there as quickly as possible."
"Say that loud, my lord. They want to hear it from your mouth, or else they will think it's me who released them."
"Ah, smart, smart," the lord patted his servant. "You really are working for this lord, aren't you, my servant?"
He then turned towards the masses and said in a commanding voice, "Do not worry, common people, I, Nolan Ravencore, the second son of the province, shall release your heroes in no time. Not because I want clout or any other support, but because I value each and every one of your lives!"
'Right.'
Morvain shook his head and smiled coyly. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Captain leaning against the doorframe, watching him intensely with a sly smile on his face.
Unexpectedly, the lord did something that felt missing from the moment he met a few people on the ship.
He raised his hand, and a small crystal cube formed. From that cube, a brilliant radiant light shimmered to life, and he held it high above his head.
"I'll save your heroes just like they saved us!" He proclaimed.
The crowd erupted into a chorus of agreement.
In the midst of the chanting, the lord leaned towards Morvain and whispered, "That night, I saw one of the prisoners helping the others, and he's called a hero now. I suppose doing something that connects with him can only elevate my reputation among the masses, right?"
Morvain gave an approving nod and said, "Exactly, my lord. That is why I said you're a genius."
'Yes, something that connects Ron and Nolan. Yes, yes, it's all coming together now, alright.'
His crimson eyes then focused on the man in front of the masses, the man who came to him pleading about his son's release.
The cheers of the crowd echoed around them, but Morvain's thoughts were already busy scheming the next steps.