The Mighty Dragons Are Dead - Chapter 208
Chapter 208: Chapter 0208: Captain Swann the Female Mercenary (First Update)
“`
Wiping away the slave girl’s tears with a thumb, the owner of the hand spoke in a hoarse voice, “Get up.”
The slave girl lifted her head and saw a face covered by a bandana, with disheveled hair and a dirty bandana, but the eyes that were exposed shone so brightly she could hardly keep hers open.
She was clad in a leather armor that had seen better days; its edges frayed from wear. A large sword, its hilt wrapped in tattered cloth, hung on her back. As she squatted down, her pressed chest touched her knees, nearly stretching the worn edges of the leather armor to their breaking point.
After helping the slave girl wipe her tears, she stood.
Tall in stature.
Her somewhat scruffy attire revealed a wild and extraordinary temperament, which quickly reminded the slave girl of the group that had stormed into the village, killing, looting, and separating her from her family to be sold on the serf market. The serfs in the marketplace said that the group was a band of infamous mercenaries.
And the woman before her looked just like a mercenary.
“Ah.” Startled, the slave girl seemed to muster some strength, struggling to rise from the ground, and she stammered an apology, “I’m, I’m sorry, my lord, I didn’t mean to fall.”
The female mercenary looked at her, and her hoarse voice came forth again, “You did nothing wrong; why apologize.”
“I…” The slave girl didn’t know how to respond and felt like crying again in her panic.
“Come with me.”
The female mercenary spoke in an unquestionable tone and turned to leave the cabin, with the slave girl hesitantly following. She bowed her head, not even daring to glimpse the mercenary’s retreating figure.
The female mercenary seemed to be heading towards the canteen.
On the way.
She suddenly said in her hoarse voice, “A girl must learn to be strong, especially when walking alone.”
The slave girl didn’t know how to respond, but it seemed the female mercenary didn’t expect an answer as they quickly reached the canteen. The mercenary pushed through the crowded serfs, bringing the slave girl to the serving window and shouted, “Fatty Jack, get her a plate of food!”
“Ah, right away, Captain Swann.”
In the midst of speaking, the female mercenary had already turned, ready to leave.
The slave girl stood woodenly at the window, unsure whether to get food or follow the mercenary. It was not until Fatty Jack served her a semi-liquid meal on a wooden plate, stuffing it in her arms, “Here you go, I don’t know what got into Captain Swann’s head, helping serfs get food.”
Holding the fragrant food, the slave girl felt tears coming on again, this time tears of happiness.
She had never had such a full plate of food in her daily life.
In a voice as faint as a mosquito’s, she whispered a thank you, not sure if it was to Fatty Jack or to Captain Swann.
But as she squatted in a corner of the deck, eating the mixture of beans and flour, she etched the name “Captain Swann” deep in her heart—she didn’t understand the Serpent Script spoken between the mercenary and the sailor serving food but remembered only the way Fatty Jack had pronounced the mercenary’s name.
…
“Does Captain Swann have a soft spot for little slave girls?”
On the foredeck, the female mercenary was enjoying the sea breeze, when the second officer approached and inquired with self-presumed grace.
“And if I do, is that a problem?”
“Of course not. On the contrary, such actions are heartwarming. It’s clear that behind Captain Swann’s toughness, there lies a woman’s tender heart.”
The female mercenary didn’t take up the conversation, just continued to gaze out at the seawater, lost in thought.
The second officer, not willing to give up, added, “I’ve seen you help several little slave girls like that. Do you see a reflection of yourself in them? People always reminisce about their past selves. Did you have a childhood like that? Sorry, I don’t mean to bring it up, just want to understand you, Captain Swann, better.”
A moment later.
“`
Just when the second mate thought he had failed to strike up a conversation, the female mercenary, gazing at the seagulls above the ocean, slowly began to speak, “I have a sister, I haven’t seen her for four years. If she’s still alive, she’d be about the same age as that little female servant.”
“Hm, I see, being separated from family is indeed…”
He didn’t get to finish.
The female mercenary suddenly changed her tone, impatiently saying, “Now that I’ve satisfied your curiosity, can you piss off?”
“Ah, don’t be like that, Captain Swann, I know you’re not in a good mood,” the second mate said, reaching out his hand to pat her shoulder, “I just want to comfort you, or maybe, lend a shoulder for you to…”
But before his hand could touch her shoulder.
The female mercenary swung her elbow abruptly, sending the second mate flying two meters away: “Piss off!”
“You!” The second mate was angry.
What met him was the female mercenary’s icy stare and her hoarse voice: “If you don’t want to die, don’t bother me. A few corpses thrown overboard at sea—I doubt the captain would care.”
Swelling with anger, the second mate had to swallow it down, rubbing his chest, reluctantly walking down from the deck.
After he entered the sailors’ quarters, he was immediately teased by a bunch of disheveled sailors: “Look at that, Spike, a prime example of biting off more than you can chew!”
“Ha-ha, you really thought you could hit on Captain Swann with that pockmarked face of yours, hilarious.”
“Don’t lose heart, Spike, you held out two minutes longer than Fox.”
“Fair’s fair, Spike didn’t make it past five minutes, you lost the bet, pay up!”
“To celebrate Spike’s glorious failure, I’ve decided to take another swig of watered-down juniper wine, ha-ha.”
…
The crude laughter of the sailors filled the cabin.
The female mercenary didn’t hear it; she lay on the railing of the deck, looking at the ship ploughing through the waves, her thoughts drifting far away: “Coral Island… Fresh Flower Town… Little Maggie…”
Meanwhile.
At the place she was longing for.
Inside the castle, Butler Carter, with his grizzled hair, approached the landlord who was composing the historical epic “Dragons Fight in the Wild” and said, “My lord, there’s something that you would be happy to hear.”
“What is it?” asked Liszt, who was writing about the “ancient battle between the evil Fire Dragon and the mighty Dragon Knight on the Sea of Azure Waves,” without even raising his head.
“The castle’s trainee maid, Maggie, has just entered into a contract of mother and daughter with Mrs. Harriet from the grocery store.”
Upon hearing it was about Maggie.
Liszt finally put down his quill, reluctantly, and asked with raised eyebrows, “So, what does the Harriet family plan to do? Take Maggie back and end her training?” Maggie was a clue involved with the Smoke Mission, and he had gone through the trouble of concocting excuses just to bring Maggie closer to him.
He wasn’t willing to let Maggie go that easily.
Carter’s answer eased his mind: “Of course not, my lord. Working at the castle is an immense honor for commoners. The Harriet family wouldn’t pass up such an opportunity.”
“Then, Mr. Carter, please convey my congratulations to Maggie. By the way, will she be coming to train this afternoon?”
“She didn’t ask for leave, so she should be here for her normal training.”
“Hmm, add a piece of grilled steak to her dinner.”
“As you wish.”
