The night fire had died out, and Dawn Harbor returned to tranquility.
The seawater beneath the dike carried the smell of tar and blood, but the roar of war was no more.
The dawn fleet returned to port in triumph. Nine warships entered the harbor in formation, none sunk, with only two having minor damage on their sides requiring slight repairs.
The outcome of this battle would shake the entire North Sea.
Of the Mad King's thirty-seven black-sailed ships, twenty-three had turned to ash, and the rest were all captured by the dawn fleet.
The pirates, disorganized in the night battle, had few survivors.
Except for a few important leaders who were captured for interrogation, all others were executed at sea, their bodies scattered by the tide.
The news that the dawn fleet suffered no losses swept through Dawn Harbor like a storm, and many subjects spontaneously came out to welcome them.
When the red tide banner on the bow of the ship appeared in the mist, the workers and subjects on the dock spontaneously cheered.
The cheers surged like a tide, crashing against the pier and stone dike, making the wooden planks tremble.
"The dawn is back!"
"Red Tide is invincible!"
"For the North, for the dawn!"
More people joined in the shouting, their voices rising in waves.
Children jumped around the dock, waving their self-made small flags.
Artisans raised their oil-stained cloth caps, shouting the name of each ship: "dawn!", "Morning Star!"
"Tide!"
Many workers had seen the flames ignite on the sea surface; they knew how the dawn fleet fought in the night mist.
These ships were forged by their own hands, so they believed they had also participated in this glorious war.
Of course, this was also the result of Lord Louis's continuous efforts to cultivate a sense of collective honor among them.
As the ships docked, the loud clang of anchors hitting the sea echoed in the harbor, and battle flags fluttered in the morning breeze.
The artisans and knights of Dawn Harbor swarmed the dock, some inspecting damage, others moving spoils of war. The air was filled with the excitement and busyness of victory.
Lord Louis and Elliot stood side by side on the dike.
Elliot looked at the busy crowd below, a sense of indescribable respect welling up in his heart.
He already held this young lord in high regard, and now it was almost worship.
He understood that if he had commanded this battle, the dawn fleet's strength would still have won, but it would never have been so easy.
Every time an enemy ship appeared, every shift in wind direction, Lord Louis seemed to have seen it in advance.
That sense of control was almost like foreknowledge.
"My Lord," Elliot said softly, "if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe anyone in the world could calculate a battle to this extent."
Lord Louis glanced at him indifferently: "Stop flattering, Elliot."
The Governor of Dawn Harbor smiled and shook his head, his tone sincere: "I'm not flattering. There's no one else in the North who can predict things and command like you, My Lord."
Lord Louis thought, 'What you're saying is nonsense. Is there anyone else in this world who has a Daily Intelligence System?'
But he couldn't reveal his secret to the other party, so he turned his head and changed the subject, asking, "How's the interrogation going?"
Elliot immediately replied, "It's all done, My Lord. We're now searching for his treasure caches according to the confessions. There's quite a lot, a cunning rabbit with three burrows.
And those two devices you gave us were really useful. We barely had to speak, and he told us everything himself."
Lord Louis chuckled at that: "That's good."
The salvage operation lasted for a full half-day.
Divers repeatedly plunged into the seabed, air hoses bulging in the waves, as they used iron hooks to drag out shipwreck debris.
The first batch of salvaged iron chests weighed hundreds of pounds, their surfaces sealed with whale fat.
When pried open, silver coins poured out like a torrent, the sunlight on the dock reflecting off the silver glow, almost blinding people.
Each coin was engraved with the emblem of the Ashes Guild.
There were even account books recording transactions, clearly stating the amount of support provided by the guild to the North Sea.
In the tidal sands of White Bay Cave, artisans dug out three wooden barrels; the second had a hidden compartment in its bottom lid.
When chiseled open, an entire barrel of gold bars and blue magic marrow crystals gleamed with cold light. The gold bars were neatly engraved with the guild's serial numbers, and the magic marrow crystals sparkled like starlight under the firelight.
A sailor exclaimed, "Just this one barrel could repair three ships."
And on the old fishing boat at North Reef No. 3, scrolls and sea charts were piled almost filling the entire cabin.
Knights carefully spread them out; red-marked routes stretched from the Ice Abyss Archipelago directly to unknown waters. This might be the Mad King's most important treasure.
Finally, from the wreckage of the Mad King's flagship, the wave devourer, the core of a booming cannon and several bottles of alchemical fire oil were salvaged.
When the sun rose, the dike was piled high with treasure chests.
Gold coins, silver coins, gold bars, magic marrow crystals, contracts, sea charts, account books—
The Mad King's life was dismantled into neat iron chests.
Cold light glinted under the open lids, and the clinking of metal in the sea breeze sounded like the lingering echoes of victory.
And the air, mixed with the smell of tar and salt, reminded everyone that this wealth was salvaged from a mountain of blood, each piece stained with the sins of the great pirate.
Not far away, a black-robed clerk was rapidly recording the inventory results.
"Ten thousand three hundred ten gold coins, forty-four thousand five hundred silver coins, eighty gold bars, three hundred seventy-two magic marrow crystals, twelve account books, nine contracts, seven sea charts."
He read each item, and the scribe beside him rapidly copied it down.
Elliot listened, clicking his tongue in amazement, exclaiming, "The Mad King was truly rich, wealthier than most lords in the North." freewebnσvel.cѳm
Lord Louis smiled, reaching out to pat a box: "Indeed, a bite yields a mouth full of oil."
He took the copied record from the clerk, casually flipped through a few pages, his gaze scanning over them.
"The most valuable items here are actually the core of the booming cannon and a few bottles of special alchemical fire oil," he said, a hint of satisfaction in his tone, "Send them back for Silco to research, to see if he can dig out anything new."
He then picked up a sea chart, spread it on the box lid, and tapped his finger on the red-marked lines: "Confirm these routes. If accurate, they will be of immense significance to Dawn Harbor."
Elliot immediately assented, calling for the clerk to carry out the task.
Lord Louis continued to flip through, finding several sealed letters, including correspondence from the Emerald Bank, merchant contracts, and a few letters bearing the Ashes Guild's seal.
He sneered: "Keep these things. They might be useful later."
The clerk immediately collected these letters, carefully placing them into a waterproof leather pouch, and sealing it with wax.
Lord Louis looked at the stack of neat boxes and smiled: "Since the pirate affair is concluded, it's time for the dawn to truly sail out of the harbor."
Elliot immediately straightened up, his expression serious and excited: "Yes, My Lord. The dawn fleet is ready at any time. All supplies, crew, and cargo are prepared."
On the fourth day after defeating the pirates, all ships were properly repaired, and the dawn fleet was ready to set sail again, this time aiming for the Empire's Southeast Province.
The morning light pierced through the thick sea fog, illuminating the neatly moored dawn fleet in the harbor.
This colossal fleet had been waiting in the harbor for several days, and today it was finally embarking on its first long voyage.
This was not merely a simple transport operation; it symbolized the North's independence and rise, a leap for Dawn Harbor from a remote port to the North's economic hub.
Countless efforts, decisions, and reforms converged on this day. The departure of the dawn and the Red Tide meant that future influence would extend to the Empire's coastal cities, especially the Calvin Family in the Southeast Province.
The pirates' treasure was exceptionally rich, enough to make many lords in the North envious.
But for Dawn Harbor, these spoils were merely insignificant extras, far less meaningful than the voyage ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) itself.
The construction of Dawn Harbor was precisely to break the North's trapped fate.
When winter arrived, ice and snow blocked all land routes, and trade between the North and the South almost halted.
To transport the North's minerals to the South and then bring Southern goods to the North, carriages traveled on rugged mountain roads, often taking several months, with round trips even lasting up to a year.
Every food shortage, every disruption in resource supply, felt like a sharp blade hanging over the North.
In this trapped situation, the North had no autonomy, unable to break free from the Empire's feeding, always confined by extreme cold and poverty, only able to exchange the lives of its warriors for food subsidies.
However, this sea route was the dawn for the North.
Its cost was only one-fifth of land transport, capable of delivering supplies to the Empire's Southeast Province within a mere two months.
Moreover, escorting with warships made sea travel far safer than land, especially for regions like the North that depended on supplies. Sea transport was undoubtedly the most reliable method.
"Dawn Harbor is not just a port; it's the first step for the North from dependence to self-reliance."
Lord Louis stood on the dike, looking back at the bustling harbor, a sigh in his heart.
The fleet's preparations had begun days ago and were now in their final stages.
Lord Louis's gaze swept over the busy port workers, lingering on the supplies being loaded onto the ships.
These were mainly minerals produced in the Duanxing territory: gangue, magic marrow mine, flint magma essence oil, and Ember Ash Iron.
Each of these precious minerals could fetch immense value in the South.
In addition, there were some cheap weapons produced by steam engines, cheap fabrics, and some monster furs.
These ores and resources had always been the main source of income for the Red Tide.
And today, after months of preparation, they would be transported by sea for the first time to the Empire's Southeast Province, bringing unprecedented wealth to the Red Tide and the nobles under the Red Tide system.
From the ship came rough shouts and the sounds of goods being moved. Heavy wooden crates were loaded onto the ships, the sailors' faces covered in sweat, but everyone's movements were exceptionally steady.
"Hurry up, lads! Get those grain boxes up here! We have to leave today, no time to dawdle!" a bearded sailor shouted to a young sailor beside him, his tone rough, full of urgent efficiency.
"Got it, Smith! Don't just shout, help out!" The young sailor quickly jumped onto the deck and began to help others carry the heavy crates into the ship's hold.
On the other side, several sailors were checking the ship's main cannons, "Fill the secondary cannons with gunpowder, ensure the main cannons are accurately aimed, and the gunners' positions must also be adjusted to optimal."
Everyone understood in their hearts that this was not just a transport operation, but represented their future.
When everything was ready, the atmosphere in the harbor grew increasingly tense and excited.
The air was filled with the salty sea breeze and a sense of anticipation. Crowds gathered densely on the dock, almost jamming the entire Dawn Harbor dock.
These workers, who had personally participated in the construction of the warships, proudly watched the ships about to embark on their long voyage.
Many of them had polished the keel of the dawn, forged the rivets of the deck, and hoisted those heavy barrels of fuel.
Now they were to witness their own creations sail out of the North's waters for the first time.
Sunlight streamed from the sea, illuminating faces full of excitement and pride.
"Quiet! Everyone quiet! Lord Louis is about to speak!" Elliot shouted loudly.
The harbor instantly fell silent, everyone's gaze fixed on the dike.
Lord Louis stood on the highest wooden platform, his cloak fluttering in the sea breeze as he overlooked the entire harbor.
Behind him, the red tide banner on the bow of the dawn fluttered in the wind.
He was silent for a moment, then his voice, amplified by magic, echoed clearly across the harbor: "People of Dawn Harbor!"
The crowd was silent, even the sound of waves seemed to quiet down.
"From the first wooden hut of the dawn to this port today, we have taken over two years. This is a miracle you have created with your own hands.
And this voyage, the ships of Dawn Harbor, will sail to the Empire's Southeast Province, carrying the North's goods to every port.
We no longer rely on charity, no longer wait for relief. With our goods, our craftsmanship, our blood and sweat, we will carve our own routes on the high seas, bringing hope to the North."
He smiled slightly as he said this, a hint of gentleness in his voice: "This is the North's first sea route, and also a journey for the Red Tide. May all crew members return safely."
The crowd erupted.
Applause and shouts burst forth like a tide.
"Long live the dawn!"
"Long live the Red Tide!"
"For the North!"
Some waved their hats, some raised banners, young people climbed onto wooden crates and cranes, waving desperately.
Many artisans had tears in their eyes; they were not just cheering for their lord, but proud of their own creations.
Elliot stood on the bridge of the dawn, took a deep breath, and raised his right hand, "All hands, weigh anchor, prepare to set sail!"
Anchor chains tightened, gears rumbled beneath the deck.
As the heavy iron anchor left the seabed, the harbor bells rang simultaneously, nine powerful chimes resonating across the bay, long and solemn.
Then, military music began.
The bright sound of brass cut through the air, and the melody of "Song of the North" echoed in the sea breeze.
"For frost and fire, for the children of the North—"
It was the song of the Northlanders, most people could hum a few lines.
Sailors on deck and workers on the dock sang in unison, their voices rough but harmonious, accompanied by drumbeats and horns.
The dawn slowly weighed anchor, its masts towering, sails billowing in the wind like unfurled white wings.
Behind it, the Morning Star, the Tide—followed closely, the fleet formation slowly sailing out of the harbor.
"Attention! Maintain formation!"
"Portside wind is good, raise the sails another foot!"
Commands, orders, and the roar of waves mixed together.
Many sailors were on their first long voyage, their faces full of excitement and nervousness, hands gripping ropes, sweat dripping down their foreheads.
Someone chuckled softly, saying, "The weather's really good today."
Another young sailor grinned, "Don't get too excited, don't cry for your mommy when the waves start crashing."
A rough burst of laughter erupted on deck, covering the slight fear in their hearts.
The captain walked among them, patting a new sailor's shoulder, "Relax, kid. You are the first batch of sailors trained by the Red Tide. Every step you take today will be written into the annals of the North."
The young man paused, then straightened his back and nodded heavily.
Just as the fleet slowly departed, a dazzling light suddenly bloomed in the sky above the harbor.
Alchemical fireworks shot into the sky, exploding into a huge crimson fire ring high above, then turning into countless golden sparks, scattering over the sea, illuminating the sails of the entire fleet.
"Look, it's fireworks!" a sailor exclaimed.
The sun-shaped firelight reflected a golden path on the sea, leading directly south.