How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending - Chapter 67.2
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The pirate base we had uncovered through interrogation was in the middle of an uncharted sea, not even properly mapped on any nautical charts. In the following days, we navigated a dangerous course using the secret map we had obtained from them. The fog was unusually thick, and hidden reefs lurked throughout, so we had to carefully make our way through the shallow waters. A heavy tension hung over the deck, which was as quiet as a mouse.
The destination we were heading toward was a small island completely off any known route, unknown even by reputation. When we finally reached the location marked on the secret map, Sir Johannes, who had been staring intently at the horizon, asked with doubt in his voice.
“This is really… their base?”
The chief navigator, analyzing the route while staring at the chart, murmured in response.
“It seems this area is frequently shrouded in fog throughout the day. Depending on the wind, it appears to gather thickly even at night. Perhaps that is why ships occasionally passing close to land never noticed it.”
The second navigator, assisting with calculations, added.
“Normally, few would ever use these waters, so it makes sense they wouldn’t know. Either way, isn’t this extremely dangerous? Who would come here intentionally?”
It was as he said. The fog that dispersed and reformed repeatedly throughout the morning, combined with the intricately tangled coastline, made it almost impossible to discern the land’s outline. Without precise calculations compared to the pirates’ map, it would have been hard to believe that the island was so close even when it was right in front of us.
“Anchor—!”
With the shout of the deck officer, the sails were furled and the ship gradually came to a stop. The island, previously hidden in a hazy veil, finally revealed itself. Only a few scattered trees grew on it, and the beach, a mix of sand and rock, was still and quiet, looking like a deserted, uninhabited place.
“Are they lying to us? It looks like a deserted island…”
Gehardt’s gruff voice came from beside me. Sir Mildred also furrowed his brows and surveyed the surroundings with a suspicious gaze.
“Let’s examine the island first.”
Following Tristan’s brief command, the knights and soldiers formed a formation and began exploring. We climbed a gently sloping forest path and reached the southern coast on the opposite side of the small island.
“What is this? Your Highness, that is clearly…”
I stopped, unable to close my mouth.
The scene on the opposite shore was beyond imagination.
A salt farm, taking up most of the small island, stretched widely between the sea and the sky. On the shallow, flat, square plots resembling a massive checkerboard, the white salt crystals glittered in the sunlight.
“…A salt farm.”
“You mean the pirates have been secretly operating a salt farm on this island?”
However, my shock was not due solely to the salt farm. I asked again in a trembling voice, as if confirming it for myself.
“So… those people, are they the prisoners captured by the pirates?”
Tristan nodded gravely. The expressions of Sir Mildred and the other knights darkened sharply as well.
On the sunlit plains, where the fog had lifted and the sunlight poured down like fire, the prisoners—or rather, those who looked like slaves—walked barefoot on the scorching ground.
Most were barely clad in tattered cloth. Their exposed skin, peeking through the rags, was burned and cracked by the sun and wind, rough as jagged stones. Their faces were drained of life, exhausted, and hopeless, and they bent their backs while continuing endless labor.
“It seems they enslaved prisoners taken from coastal raids. That is likely why they never bothered demanding ransom.”
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