Pirate Kingship

The young man was none other than Gunnery Chief Wynndort of the Golden Deer.

There weren't many high-ranking members in the city-state. When he was captured by the colonizers' slave-catcher team, it caused quite a stir among the city-state's upper echelons. Unfortunately, Chichen Itza City lacked the strength to send out a search and rescue mission beyond the island. Guided by the slave traders' practice of buying and selling in different regions, he was transported from the Bantaan Archipelago all the way to Iron Anchor Bay.

If it weren't for good luck in encountering Byron, who possessed the "Sailing Logbook," things would have been different. Byron saw that this indigenous youth and his few attendants had an unusual past, considered him a rare find worth investing in, and did so. He was almost certain he would never return in this lifetime.

Even the Great Shaman was greatly surprised upon recognizing his identity. Every year, numerous tribespeople from around the Chichen Itza city-state were captured by slave-catcher teams. But Wayne Dote was the first slave in history to have escaped and returned alive!

And he seemed, astonishingly, not to have been mistreated. The undeniable Supernatural Aura about him also suggested that within just a few months, he had successfully advanced to become a Transcendent, different from any other Eagle Spirit Warrior. That seemed to be the radiance of the "Silver Law" from the outsiders.

"Is it really Wayne Dote?!"

"You've been to the homeland of those outsiders? Are their pyramids even taller and bigger than the ones we built?"

"Can we also take up the Extraordinary professions of the outsiders..."

Upon confirming his identity, the others' reactions weren't much better than the Great Shaman's, a mixture of concern and curiosity.

The young man, who had just returned to the city-state from Great Tayman Island, had only learned here of the news that Princess Ketry had been flayed and sacrificed. Suppressing the grief in his heart and ignoring his grandfather's objections, he stepped forward to continue explaining to everyone:

"I received reliable intelligence from the higher-ups among those outsiders that the Kingdom of Castile is secretly plotting to annex the entire Yucatan Island. Cooperating with them is undoubtedly akin to bargaining with a tiger for its hide, only to be used by them for nothing in return.

"You have not been to the Old Continent. You don't know that their most powerful weapons are First-Class Battleships with over one hundred cannons, as well as various Sacred Relics that have shaped civilizations over their long history. What is exposed in the Bantaan Archipelago is just the tip of the iceberg of their power. The power held by a king in the Old Continent far exceeds that of the Emperor of the Aztec Empire.

"I too wish to avenge the Princess and His Majesty the King, but those ambitious People of Castilia are definitely not good partners. If the Great Shaman and all of you agree, I'm willing to set sail again to find a reliable ally for the city-state."

Wayne Dote and Princess Ketry were not some star-crossed lovers separated by fate. But it was certain that every eligible young man among the city-state's elite was an admirer of the princess. To see something he loved but could not have, so wantonly trampled and destroyed by others, filled him with both pain and hatred, yet he managed to retain a sliver of reason.

He instantly linked the intelligence he heard from his captain to this major event that had just occurred. By the time the Anti-Aztec Alliance was formed, it would likely be when those outsiders emerged en masse. Even he did not know how the numerically few People of Castilia could conquer two great empires in one fell swoop.

But his solemn warning was met with mockery from others. One noble youth, who had always looked down on him, scoffed outright, "The outsiders want to destroy our nation? Such an idea is truly laughable. Dote, you really haven't done your homework. You should know that between us and the Aztec, we have a total of five hundred city-states and thirteen million people, not even counting other smaller tribes. Don't think you're the only one who has been exposed to the outside world. How many could those outsiders scattered across the eastern islands amount to? Three hundred thousand or four hundred thousand? Never mind Flintlock Guns; even if they bring their Battleships over and bombard us endlessly with ship-borne cannons, how long would it take to kill so many of us? What good is such powerful military force? How on earth can they conquer the land beneath our feet?"

To see only a part and infer the whole—this was somewhat different from what most proud people of the Old Continent imagined. At this stage, the natives never regarded them as life-and-death enemies, as a dangerous species. Their internal struggles were already fierce; their hostility towards other city-states competing for living space was stronger than their hostility towards outsiders. Most simply wanted to use the power of the outsiders to defeat their rivals, never regarding the sparsely populated colonizers as their actual opponents. They also never considered the Tenor People on the eastern islands as kin, nor did they have any shared anti-colonial sentiment. This was the mainstream mindset among the entire native population. Or perhaps, those outsiders were nothing but war proxies to be used by them.

"You are all too careless, my..." Seeing the others nodding in agreement with his rival, Wayne Dote swallowed back the word "Captain" that had reached his lips. The intelligence he currently possessed was too scant. Even having witnessed the prosperity of the Old Continent, he himself hardly believed the People of Castilia could truly conquer the entirety of Yucatan Island, let alone persuade his kinsmen.

He stepped back behind his grandfather, secretly deciding to immediately send out the "Swift Hawk" to ask the Captain for help for his people as soon as the meeting ended. Having followed Byron through many great battles, the idea of the Captain's omnipotence had gradually become a firm imprint on his mind.

Historical Reviser effect one:

"Your Anchoring has become more stable. Those who have an Anchoring connection with you will also be more easily swept into a vortex of History, drawing nearer to various unknowns and Hidden."

And at the very center of this vortex, preparing to drag Byron in with him, was none other than the Artillery Expert, Wayne Dote!

While the meeting was taking place in Chichen Itza City, Byron was still on Great Tayman Island, engaged in a great endeavor propelling the rapid development of human civilization: composting!

Under his command, a massive amount of agricultural waste—straw, vines, weeds, fallen leaves; production or domestic trash—pond mud, rotten vegetables; and excreta from animal husbandry—poultry and livestock manure, domestic washing wastewater, etc.—were gathered together by the hired workers.

"Group one, grab the sickles and crush these plant stalks, vines, and branches into pieces no longer than ten centimeters. Don't know how long ten centimeters is? Just make them the same length as this one in my hand.

"Group two, grab your wooden shovels, mix all those materials, then cover them with straw. Be careful to avoid sun exposure, rain, and wind, so the fertility doesn't escape. You're in charge of watching the compost; turn it over every three or four weeks. It'll be about three months before you can start using it. Before then, no one is allowed to get curious. If you poison the crops, watch out for my whip."

"Yes, Your Excellency," the workers replied.

Byron only nodded with satisfaction after confirming there were no mistakes. Who said my ancestors made no contributions to human technology? At least in the era of agricultural civilization, this is undoubtedly cutting-edge 'black technology,' the kind that can rival industrial marvels!

Next to him was Catherine, dressed in a lady's gown, white stockings, and high heels. As the weather grew warmer, she always liked to stay close to Byron. Even without invoking his Stormchild abilities, a "Storm Knight" always had a gentle, cool breeze blowing around him. It didn't feel hot at all, even in full attire. Moreover, an air barrier automatically isolated them from the smell of the compost. Standing together, they looked as if they had returned to their childhood days, when they would each hold one of Prince Sorrenberg's arms, listening to him tell adventure stories.

But just as the compost pile was completed and only needed to ferment naturally, Catherine's beautiful, lake-green eyes suddenly shot forth a golden brilliance. It seemed her wealth had surged, propelling her Spirituality forward by a large margin.

"Yikes! What's happening?" Catherine exclaimed. "I didn't do anything, so why did I suddenly strike it rich?"

At the same time, as if sensing something, Byron grabbed her hand and they ran, quickly arriving at the nearby "Earl's Mansion." They rushed into Catherine's... bathroom.

BOOM—!

A dazzling golden light instantly stung their eyes. In the middle of the bathroom, a toilet made entirely of gold for Catherine's exclusive use was radiating golden light. They even seemed to hear holy hymns from Heaven echoing all around, filled with a sacred aura.

"Holy! Holy!"

The Sailing Logbook updated automatically: [Second-level Holy Relic-Golden Toilet]

Achieved through creating the initial raw materials for compost.

Deed: "You are the destination of the cycle of grains, you are the prime mover of the natural cycle, you are a blessing to the many Famine Hunters..."

Effects: 1. Greatly enhances compost efficiency. Normal composting requires sixty days to three months. Now, as long as composting conditions are met, even the humus beneath the rainforest floor can be rapidly enriched in just a few days. Worries about soil fertility loss will be a thing of the past; land within the toilet's range of influence will slowly transform into invaluable black earth.

2. It can fix atmospheric nitrogen, like certain special leguminous plants and microorganisms, converting it into an endless supply of nitrogen fertilizer. This can be applied directly to the soil or extracted separately for fertilization elsewhere.

Initially a Second-Class Relic, it will continue to advance as its influence spreads. It might even become a Zero-Level Sacred Relic eventually!

"We've struck it rich! We've really struck it rich!" Byron exclaimed.

Sacred Relics were far more valuable than an equivalent weight in gold, even more so than the fifty thousand pounds from the spoils of war. With the [Second-level Holy Relic-Golden Toilet] to help, this place would soon become the most fertile land in the entire Bantaan Archipelago!

Byron also gradually realized that his greatest 'Golden Finger' wasn't actually the Sailing Logbook, which seemed connected to the Mad Hunt Deity, but the series of knowledge about civilizational progress in his mind. He believed this was the first Sacred Relic he had created with his own hands, but it would definitely not be the last.

"Little Taiman Island and Tayman Brak Island are our lands too, but they're a bit too far away. It's hard to say when even Great Tayman Island will be fully developed, let alone those two. Why haven't my pioneering orders come through? The Tayman Archipelago simply can't unleash its potential."

Then, he slowly lowered his head and stared intently at the glittering golden toilet.

I just wonder what it's like to use a Sacred Relic as a toilet? Even the Pope at The Holy Silver Empire's St. Peter's Cathedral doesn't have such a luxury, does he?

Thinking this, he felt a little eager. As long as I can undo my trousers first, Catherine will definitely...

But she was quick to react, sending him out with a swift kick.

"Get away!"

"Stingy! Would it kill you to let me pee in it once?!" Byron grumbled.

He was just about to call his sister heartless when Alfred of [Blood-Red Whiskey] came rushing over like the wind, yelling from afar, "Captain, bad news! A large group of people has brazenly occupied Little Taiman Island and Tayman Brak Island. They're already starting to build a camp."

Byron could no longer spare a thought to fight with Catherine over the first use of the Second-level Holy Relic-Golden Toilet.

"Who are they? Did you see their flag clearly?"

Even Alfred, a Transcendent nearly invincible at the Second Order, had a grave look on his face. "It's... the Skinning Cult!"