This was St. Anthony Port in the Twin Towers District of Rhine City, the city’s busiest inland harbor.
The long blast of a steam whistle startled countless waterbirds into the air, their crisp cries drifting up into the clouds and lending greater depth to the azure sky. The sturdy bluestone pier stretched for dozens of meters, its edges worn smooth by the ceaseless rushing water, while a cool breeze laden with damp moisture swept across the riverfront.
Truth be told, although the original Lynch had lived in Rhine for twenty years, he had rarely ever visited the harbor, let alone set foot on the pier.
It was even more bustling than the train station in Cross District. Tens of thousands of merchants, travelers, and customers perpetually crowded the port plaza; vast quantities of cargo were bought and sold before they had even cleared the harbor, and throngs of laborers gathered constantly on the docks, waiting to be hired. The sheer energy and sweat in the air seemed to raise the ambient temperature by a few degrees.
“Make way, make way! My shipment is here!”
“Need unloading, fellas? My boys have all the muscle you need—fast, steady, and not a single scratch guaranteed!”
“Come take a look, come take a look! Cheapest food supplies today, five shillings a crate!”
“Step right in! We have the finest ready-made clothes and blankets in Rhine, going cheap! Take them back to Norin on your ship and you’re guaranteed a profit!”
“Extra, extra! The Organ lost contact last night! The General Shipping Association has posted a massive bounty!”
Tens of thousands of people were packed across the entire port. Even as a transmigrator who had seen truly massive crowds, Lynch couldn't help but marvel at the sight. And this was merely an ordinary morning on an ordinary day. By that estimate, several hundred thousand people in Rhine City alone probably relied on the port and shipping industry for their livelihood.
Experience from his previous life made it certain: once a cheaper overland route opened, more than half of these people would lose their livelihoods. Even if they might eventually find alternative lines of work, what about in the meantime? Never mind the capital invested in the shipping industry—these dockworkers and petty merchants alone were enough to stir up immense turmoil.
Back in his old world, an empire had once chosen to ban maritime trade just to keep a million canal boatmen fed, which showed just how colossal the impact could be. If given the chance, he would have to investigate this matter further; there was likely a substantial opposition force lurking behind the scenes here as well. Seeing as the church had treated him with such deference and even paid him in advance, he had to see this commission through with flying colors to be worthy of their goodwill.
Just as Lynch was turning these thoughts over in his head, a sharp whistle suddenly pierced the air. A group of men charged onto one of the piers, dispersing the laborers waiting for work and completely clearing out the entire dock.
They were burly men wearing red-and-blue uniforms, slinging heavy rifles across their backs, carrying sabers at their waists, and donning round metal helmets on their heads. This was the standard attire of the Rhine Governor's Guard, the local military force of the Rhine region.
What's going on? The army is clearing the area directly? Did something happen? Is this really necessary?
Seeing that Archbishop Trinlais beside him showed no surprise, Lynch kept his composure and quietly observed. Once the pier was cleared, a horn sounded.
Soon after, a sailing ship bearing the holy emblem of the Black Night glided slowly into the harbor. From a distance, dozens of sailors in red-and-black uniforms could be seen standing in neat formation along the ship's gunwales.
They looked like soldiers as well. Who were they...?
“That is the central army from Norin, participating in the escort at the church's request.”
“Such tight security?” Lynch frowned, sensing something amiss. “Deploying troops from both sides? Are you usually this cautious when transporting supplies?”
“The ship is carrying supplies allocated by the church headquarters to the local diocese—high-value items like arcane medicines, scrolls, or mysterious materials. While some wanted Soul Severers do target our cargo, the church's own guards are normally more than enough to handle them. There is usually no need to mobilize the Lande Navy on such a scale.”
The archbishop hesitated for a moment before explaining further:
“However, because this shipment includes the holy memory of the Crimson Lady, headquarters exercised greater caution. They had a master proficient in prophecy make a divination, which revealed that this transport might encounter trouble. To be safe, they raised the security level to the highest tier.”
“Someone has their eyes on it?” Lynch’s expression turned conflicted. “They aren’t targeting the holy memory, are they?”
“Unlikely. Aside from you, it holds little value to anyone else. You needn't worry; everyone involved in the escort, including the Lande Navy, is highly professional. They have carried out countless escort missions, with ample experience and reliable skill. Nothing should go wrong.”
Lynch felt a vein throb in his temple. “I have a feeling that saying that out loud is practically guaranteeing something will go wrong.”
“Heh, I am just an ordinary person without the prophecy abilities of you Soul Severers. Look, it’s almost finished.”
The vessel had already entered its berth, gliding slowly forward. Four individuals clad in Black Night holy robes with swords at their sides emerged from the cabin, carrying two large wooden crates. A six-star priest followed closely behind them, holding a square metal case that appeared, from a distance, to be cast from solid metal.
“On alert!”
The moment the group appeared, an officer among the sailors barked a loud command. All the sailors remaining on board immediately took up defensive positions around the priests, glancing vigilantly in every direction and remaining on high alert.
At the same time, the local forces on shore prepared to receive them. Not only had they cleared all bystanders from the pier in good time, but before the vessel even entered the berth, they fired several coordinated volleys across the water's surface to eliminate any hidden threats before taking their positions along the pier with raised rifles.
They did indeed seem very professional. Lynch had just let out a sigh of relief when he heard one of the clearing soldiers gasp in astonishment.
“What is that?”
As the ship was docking, a cluster of black specks suddenly appeared in the sky above the river behind it. The specks rapidly expanded into dozens of giant birds of prey, swooping down in neat formation toward the vessel.
“Continue docking! Everyone else, engage the enemy!” The naval officer remained beside the priests, barking orders in a calm, booming voice. “Watch out—they have objects strapped to their bodies! It could be gunpowder! Ready your aim, do not let them get close!”
The birds of prey were remarkably swift. In the blink of an eye, they reached the airspace above the waterway and swooped down toward the large ship as it turned into the berth.
True to their professional training, the soldiers showed not a hint of panic. Both the sailors on board and the local forces on shore raised their muzzles in unison toward the birds of prey, and gunshots erupted simultaneously.
Blood sprayed through the air amid piercing screeches.
One by one, the raptors were blown apart mid-air. But before their carcasses could fall, the packages strapped to them ruptured as well, discharging dense clouds of powder. The moment this powder made contact with the air, it spontaneously combusted, transforming the blasted birds into balls of roaring fire. Propelled by their diving momentum, they rained down like a meteor shower of flames all around the vessel.
“Damn it! Keep firing! Stop them over the water!”
The ship was in the middle of docking, flanked by the pier and passing vessels. If the fireballs crashed down onto the deck, not only would the ship catch fire and throw everyone into the water, but the pier and surrounding boats would be engulfed as well.
For a moment, all the soldiers could do was fire furiously into the sky, doing everything they could to shoot down the flaming raptors prematurely.
The results were quite effective. Since there was still some distance and these were mindless projectiles that couldn't evade, most were shot down in short order. Only a few stray fireballs crashed onto the pier, where the flames were easily extinguished. Yet before the officers and priests could breathe a sigh of relief, a soldier nearby pointed toward the river surface and cried out in shock.
While everyone's attention had been drawn to the diving raptors and fireballs in the sky, three wakes silently cut through the water, closing in on the ship.
They were three large river porpoises with man-made contraptions strapped to their bodies. Though it was unclear what the payloads were, judging by the birds of prey just now, they were certainly nothing good—and very likely explosives.
The soldiers on the bank hastily swiveled their rifle muzzles, but it was already too late. The three river porpoises were already pressing against the hull.
Rate on N.U.
