Translator: CinderTL
While researching ancient texts to uncover the truth about Shar and Rudolph, Roland stumbled upon a crucial clue.
According to the records, before the Year of the Apocalypse, the world contained not only the Four Great Elements—wind, fire, water, and earth—but also two unique forms of energy.
These energy forms resembled Magic Elements but were fundamentally different, possessing far greater power and surpassing the Four Great Elements in potency.
Due to their diametrically opposed natures, scholars of the time named them "Positive Energy" and "Negative Energy."
The descriptions of Negative Energy depicted it as an energy imbued with the aura of coldness, decay, and death.
This description eerily matched the energy emanating from the strange black patterns he had encountered in Joe's forest and Mist Creek Town.
Since acquiring the trait Shar's Favor, Roland had found his sensitivity to Negative Energy had become exceptionally acute.
Unlike the Four Great Elements, Negative Energy did not freely permeate the air.
Apart from the black patterns, Roland had only faintly observed it in decaying plants or dying creatures.
Thus, Roland had concluded in his mind:
Negative Energy only manifests in beings on the verge of death.
Yet now, this conclusion was being shattered.
Roland calmly scrutinized the young man in the distance, dressed in dark green travel attire.
The sunlight outlined his slender figure.
Pale skin, delicate wrist bones.
His long, slender fingers showed no trace of manual labor, clearly marking him as someone not of common birth.
His speech was refined, his movements graceful, and even compared to those around him, his vitality seemed remarkably robust.
Yet Roland's brow slowly furrowed.
He could clearly sense it.
Within this seemingly ordinary young man flowed waves of icy, malevolent energy, like a venomous serpent coiled in the shadows.
That malevolent Negative Energy flickered in and out of existence with each breath the young man took.
As Roland observed, the argument at the port continued unabated.
"Why won't you let us board the ship?!"
A young man in opulent attire, his face flushed crimson, waved his arms wildly.
If not for the guard's imposing physique, his fist would likely have already struck the man's face.
But even so, he refused to back down.
"Do you even know who I am? My father—"
"I know, but before you start arguing—"
The port guard wiped the spittle that had landed on his face.
His gaze swept over the crest on the young man's chest, his expression remaining unchanged, though a hint of disdain flickered in his eyes.
"You little whelp of House Philip! You should check whose ship this is!"
"Mr. Colin instructed me to welcome distinguished guests here! But you clearly don't qualify as one!"
As he spoke, the guard's hand slowly moved to the hilt of his sword.
"If you want to flaunt your noble arrogance, I suggest you try the Golden Valley Kingdom next door! The Black Shell Trading Company won't tolerate such insolent behavior!"
"You—!"
The noble youth, stung by the humiliating words, refused to back down and stepped forward.
But in the next instant—
Clang!
The sharp sound of an iron sword being drawn sliced through the air.
Gazing at the gleaming, razor-sharp blade before him, the noble youth's crimson face instantly paled. His lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word.
"Enough, Taril."
Just as the tension reached its peak, the young man in green travel attire stepped forward and placed a hand on the noble youth's shoulder.
A gentle smile spread across his pale, almost translucent face.
"Since this... sir, won't allow us to board this ship, we'll simply wait for the next one."
These words offered the noble youth a dignified way out.
"Very well! Lyon, for your sake, I won't lower myself to argue with such a vulgar person!"
The noble youth retreated rapidly until he was more than ten paces away from the guard, then stopped and muttered under his breath.
"If it weren't for—"
Roland couldn't hear the rest of his words.
First, the distance was too great. Second...
"You must be Mr. Roland?"
The guard, who had been so haughty moments before, now bowed slightly, his face plastered with a servile smile.
"Mr. Colin specifically instructed me to await your arrival here."
"Thank you," Roland said with a slight nod, about to proceed when his steps abruptly halted.
"Excuse me, this..."
"Just call me Lor!"
"Very well, Lor." Roland tilted his head slightly, gesturing with his chin toward the port. "What was the origin of that group just now?"
Hearing the question, Lor scoffed dismissively before lowering his voice.
"Just the son of some minor noble from the River Domain Nations. What, did he offend you? Should I...?" He made a throat-slitting gesture with his finger.
Roland's eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly.
"That won't be necessary. It's just..." He paused. "Did you see the young man in the dark green clothes beside him?"
"Hmm..." Lor grunted, squinting as he tried to recall. "He was rather handsome... Wait, sir, are you...?"
Remembering the rumors circulating among the common folk about the peculiar tastes of certain elites in the River Domain Nations, Lor's gaze toward Roland turned distinctly odd.
"If you have any... needs, sir, I know a few places in the River Domain Nations... Guaranteed to satisfy you!"
Seeing the ambiguous glint in Lor's eyes, Roland frowned in confusion.
"We'll discuss that later. What I mean is... that person is extremely dangerous."
His tone turned grave.
"You should immediately send word to Mr. Colin. Tell him to be on high alert and, if possible, thoroughly investigate the identities of those travelers."
Realizing he had completely misunderstood Roland's intentions, the burly guard's face flushed crimson as he hastily straightened his posture.
"Yes, sir! I'll dispatch a messenger to Mr. Colin at once!"
With that, he leaned over and urgently whispered a few words to another guard beside him.
Only after watching the guard hurry away into the port crowd did Roland let out a soft sigh of relief.
"Regardless of his true identity, someone who harbors such a dense concentration of Negative Energy... can't possibly be a benevolent person."
The thought flashed through his mind as Roland turned and stepped onto the ship's deck.
The Black Shell Trading Company's ship was painted entirely black, its prow carved with the company's emblem: an angrily gaping seashell. The deck was paved with polished ironwood, its surface gleaming with a dark luster under the sunlight.
On deck, people of various races bustled about.
Several elves leaned against the railing, whispering to each other, their silver hair fluttering in the wind. Dwarves clustered around ale barrels, their copper beards still flecked with foam. Human merchants gathered beneath the mast, checking cargo manifests as their silk robes billowed in the sea breeze.
"Mr. Roland, this way, please."
A steward, who had been waiting patiently, gestured invitingly.
"Mr. Colin has specially prepared the upper cabin for you. The view from there is exceptional, perfect for sightseeing."
After offering a quiet thanks, Roland followed the steward upward.
After parting ways with Bronson at the door, he entered the cabin.
The interior was simple yet luxurious.
Spacious and bright, the cabin offered an unobstructed panoramic view.
"If you require anything, simply pull this rope, and I will attend to you immediately."
Following the steward's gesture, Roland noticed a hanging rope with a bell attached to the wall.
Unpleasant memories resurfaced, causing his brow to furrow slightly.
"I understand. Thank you."
"You're most welcome."
As the door closed, only the rhythmic crashing of waves remained in the cabin.
(End of the Chapter)
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