Goblin Heavy Dependence

Chapter 406 Get the boat closer to me!
"Oilhand" Byrne is an adventurer and the leader of the "Flying Fish Oil Barrel" team.

As a level 4 [Azure Blade Warrior], his class level may not be considered a big shot in Harbor, but the special class he holds grants him combat power far exceeding that of other classes of the same level on the high seas, allowing him to thrive in the Southern Islands.

After nearly ten years of operation, they not only built a custom-made speed sailboat with above-average quality and workmanship, but also recruited many trustworthy and powerful adventurers around it, thus establishing the "Flying Fish Oil Barrel" team.

As a result, the nickname "Oil Hands" gradually spread among the islands.

Although he hasn't reached the level of widespread fame, at least for now, when he walks into a tavern like "Three-Legged Sea Dog," which is always crowded with adventurers, quite a few people can still recognize this formidable character.

Yes, a ruthless character.

On this boundless sea, filled with countless opportunities and risks, especially for adventurers, the rise of every famous figure is accompanied by killing and bloodshed.

Bourne didn't think there was anything wrong with what he did.

The law of the jungle prevails over the law of survival in these waters.

When encountering a massive fleet of ships or a high-level adventurer team, it is perfectly normal to run away with your tail between your legs.
When they encounter a fat sheep whose strength is far inferior to their own, it is only natural to "eat it all up".

For "Oilhand" Bourne, the line between "adventurer" and so-called "pirate" had long been blurred in the process of plundering and fighting.

Currently, the "Flying Fish Oil Barrel" team he leads is in the middle of a mission.

Their destination was a small island not far from this area of ​​the sea, about two days' journey away.

According to the quest information provided by the Adventurers' Guild, the villagers on that island are facing an invasion by some kind of monster and need the adventurers' help to resolve the danger.

The reward for the mission wasn't much; it was probably just enough for the brothers to enjoy themselves in Suoyu Bay for a few days, which was barely satisfactory.

Given Bourne's spending habits, this amount of gold coins was barely enough to fill his stomach, so he was very willing to skim some extra money during the commission and look for opportunities to earn some side income.

It doesn't matter whether the recipients are ordinary villagers living on the island or boats encountered on the road.

He only wanted to collect as many gold coins as possible.

“Boss Bourne, the ship ahead has slowed down; it probably has given up on escaping.”

"They can't escape either." The lookout's excited shouts rang in his ears, and a ferocious smile appeared on Bourne's fleshy face.

I don't know if it was because before this trip, I specially paid someone to find a small shrine to the goddess of fortune, and had the crew pray and worship together.

Their voyage went very smoothly, with mild weather, a harmonious atmosphere within the crew, and even the sailors' daily tasks proceeded without any major errors.

They've only been away from Hong Kong for a few days, and they've already encountered a fresh and tempting "fat sheep".

A greedy glint shone in Bourne's eyes.

His extensive seafaring experience allowed him to figure out the details of the wooden ship opposite him during this brief chase.

The deep draft and slow speed indicated a large amount of cargo on board; it was early morning, yet there weren't many people on deck, suggesting a relatively small number of people on board; coupled with its standard medium-sized vessel type, Bourne had already roughly determined in his mind that it was a typical merchant cargo ship at sea.

If you can swallow it all in one gulp, you'll earn at least three figures in gold coins.

If he could also ensure the other ship's safety, he could earn even more.

Although he was very confident in his abilities, it didn't mean that Bourne would be blinded by money and directly order the helmsman to sail the ship over.

Having an absolute speed advantage means gaining the initiative in battle on the high seas.

If we retreat, the enemy won't be able to keep up, and we can only watch them escape.

If they pursue, the other side has no chance of escaping; being caught up is only a matter of time.

In this situation, no matter how tempting the foreseeable future gains may be, Bourne still remained cautious and conducted one last round of probing before officially launching the attack.

Subconsciously, she turned around and looked at the young man in the center of the deck, who was being protected by the crowd. He was wearing a light green silk robe and a woven pointed hat.

Unlike the simple attire of other sailors and adventurers on deck, this young man was impeccably dressed, with his collar buttoned up to the very top, even in the sweltering heat of the sea.

The dark brown spiral staff he held tightly in his hand also revealed his identity.

A spellcaster!
To some extent, this is why Bourne felt he was blessed by Lady Luck.

Whether inland or on the vast sea, spellcasters are rare due to the extremely high requirements for talent and resources.

Once they appear, they are often monopolized by large organizations in the Barracuda Bay and giant fleets at sea.

Only a small number of people are willing to go to sea in a small, independent team.

To be honest, Bourne might have some fame in the Southern Islands, but it's far from enough to attract spellcaster teammates based solely on his reputation, and he can't afford the high salaries they demand.

Getting this spellcaster into the team was entirely by luck.

The process is complicated, so I won't go into details.

In short, six years ago, Bourne encountered a storm during a mission, deviated from the course, and unexpectedly arrived at a remote sea area that few people had ever reached. There, he found the other party being persecuted by the tribe members who were treating him as a demon.

A natural spellcaster, born with an affinity for nature!
The primitive tribe was simple-minded and had little contact with the outside world. It happened to be during an epidemic. At that time, Bourne only had a few bags of food, half a bottle of medicine, and some cheap and simple medicine to trick the other party into coming to the ship.

Then they took good care of him, using both lies and sincerity, and provided him with considerable resources to nurture him.

Over the course of six years, this young spellcaster, once named "Grass Snail" by the tribal elders, has become one of Bern's most loyal members.

Meanwhile, Bourne himself, taking advantage of the other party's extraordinary abilities as a spellcaster, continuously seized profits on the high seas.

"So, what's the situation on that ship?"

"Order the crew to steer and keep their distance from the Black Gull," Bourne asked urgently.

"Hmm...something's strange."

The young spellcaster named "Grass Snail" was a complete self-taught individual. Even though he had systematically learned some spellcasting knowledge through Byrne after boarding the ship, he still habitually manipulated his mental power in a primitive and instinctive way.

Rather than calling him a "mage," it would be more accurate to describe him as a "warlock" or a "priest" from the orc tribes.

"There aren't many people, only about twenty in total."

The eyes of "Grass Snail" gleamed with a dazzling magical light, yet a rare hint of hesitation lingered in her words.

There are only five professionals inside.

"Three of them are relatively ordinary, with a professional level of only around lv2, which is within our safe handling range."

"Of the other two, the one with the weaker aura is probably a follower of some god. His aura is slightly obscured, but judging from his life strength, he is probably only around level 2, even weaker than the three adventurers in front of him."

"There's only the last one, and to be honest, I don't understand it..."

Grass Snail was born in a primitive tribe on a deserted island. His extraordinary talent allowed him to display a mental strength far beyond that of ordinary people at a young age. When he was nine years old, the invisible will that unconsciously expanded outwards was enough to make him sense the presence of wild animals passing by outside the tribe while he was hiding in his quilt deep inside the shed.

The painful experience of being mistreated as a demon by his tribe after revealing his talent further strengthened his mental fortitude through torment. Grass Snail gradually discovered that he seemed to be able to summon gales and waves when he was sad, and even the thunder from the depths of the dark clouds in the sky would respond when he was extremely angry.

Under spiritual perception, the abstract aura that originally represented the existence of life is transformed into a more easily understood concrete pattern, allowing us to view the world we live in in a way that is integrated with nature.

Take, for example, the scene he is currently observing in his mental world.

Standing before him, his older brother Bourne, looking at him with concern, appeared to him, through his mental perception, as a lean shark with blood-stained teeth.
On the cargo ship not far ahead, the ordinary sailors are just blurry outlines, while the three weaker adventurers are "a swaying leaf under a whirlwind", "a furious roar", and "two crossed rusty swords".
The object that appears to be a follower of a certain deity is a gold coin that spins and falls, engraved with a four-leaf clover pattern.

This innate ability helped the grass snail and the "Flying Fish Oil Barrel" team avoid many troubles, and brought them unimaginable benefits.

Often, even before the opponent has seen their faces, the Grass Snail has already figured out the opposing team's composition and strength through its own senses.

Based on his current perceptions, he could roughly guess that "Fallen Leaves" corresponded to an agile type of professional, "Roar" might be a barbarian or orc, and "Swords" represented a melee fighter.

Normally, he wouldn't hesitate at all; he would have already informed Captain Bourne of the information he had gathered, allowing the latter to continue the operation.

Even if there are believers of the gods, as long as the other party is not an important divine favorite, the gods will generally not care if the killing is swift and decisive, avoiding blasphemy and torture.

But right now, the grass snail is incredibly hesitant.

The reason for this was the last of the five adventurers on the opposite ship.

He really couldn't see clearly.

The snail could sense that the other party was probably the highest-ranking member on the opposing ship.

But when he focused his mind, trying to visualize the other person's image in his mental world in order to further explore their professional category and strength.

What came into view was only an indescribable, deep shadow.

It is not the shadow cast on the ground by branches when the wind blows the leaves; nor is it the shadow cast on a person's body when the sun sets.

That feeling is hard to describe in words.

Perhaps the most vivid memory in Caoluo's short life was when he was twelve years old. Because life in the tribe was too painful, he stole a raft that his tribesmen had left on the beach one night and tried to escape by sea alone.

As the islands behind him gradually shrank as the raft drifted further away, all that remained around him was boundless, cold darkness.

Perhaps it was from wounds inflicted during the day's torture by the tribesmen, with blood dripping into the sea.

The moonlight shone softly, reflecting a faint glow on the sea.

Sharp fins emerged silently amidst the sound of water, and a huge, deep, dark shadow swayed eerily beneath the raft.

To this day, Caoluo still remembers the moment he saw that terrifying shadow that sent chills down his spine and made his heart ache with a suffocating stillness.

Even the pain seemed to lessen when he was swept back to the island by the waves the next day in fear and when he found himself being tortured by his tribesmen who were trying to escape. The feeling of being far from the ocean and on solid ground made him feel less pain.

The shadow that the last adventurer is currently experiencing in his own mental world is exactly that feeling.

This was an experience that Grass Snail had never had since she boarded the ship with Bourne.

"Perhaps we should retreat."

"retreat!?"

Bourne's eyes widened suddenly, his tone filled with disbelief.

"Why? Aren't they all adventurers around level 1 or 2?"

"Could it be because of that so-called believer?"

"Damn it, he's not some chosen one of God, what are you afraid of?"

"To be honest, our entire ship is made up of believers in Lady Luck. Don't worry, she will protect us!"

“No, that’s not the reason…” Grass Snail shook her head violently.

He regarded Bourne as his savior who had saved him from hell, and had long regarded him as a father figure. The other party's excited tone made him subconsciously back down.

"There might be danger on the ship opposite, and the last one... I can't see him clearly."

Bourne stared intently at the snail in front of him, his jaw clenching involuntarily, making a stifling sound.

He suddenly turned back to look at the cargo ship with a very deep draft in front of him, his face almost overflowing with resentment.

His reason as an adventurer was telling him that, faced with the warning from the grass snail, even if the number and level of the professionals on his ship were superior to the enemy's, retreating might be the safest option.

But at the same time, the greed stemming from his pirate identity was also tempting him deep down. If he could just take over this cargo ship, they might not have to risk going to sea for the next whole year.

Two ideas clashed violently, vying for dominance in his mind.

"Boss Bourne, the other side has already reacted!"

"Should we go or not?"

"Shut the hell up!" he cursed at the crew member beside him, his gaze fixed ahead.

On the deck of a cargo ship in the distance, sailors carrying weapons could be seen moving hurriedly, preparing for defense.

Every second they delay increases the danger they face when they launch their attack.

Just as Bourne was hesitating...

Perhaps the pirate flags they raised put too much pressure on the sailors on the opposite ship.

"call out!"

The sound of a sharp object tearing through the air erupted from above.

A crossbow bolt pierced the barrier between the ships and shot down from afar.

It suddenly landed on the deck not far from Bourne's feet.

Like the last straw that broke the camel's back, the anger towards the "fat sheep" he regarded as prey, who dared to attack him, allowed his pirate side to take the lead at this moment.

hum-

The curved sword at his waist was suddenly drawn and raised high.

"Damn it, raise the sails!"

"Get the boat closer to me, you bastard!"

　Thank you so much to "岂恨不见古" for the generous donation!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)