The cold, damp, salty sea wind felt like a blade against his skin. Even though he had smeared a thick layer of oil and wax on his face beforehand, Ichida Keizai still squinted as the wind hit him upon stepping out of the cabin, cursing under his breath.
'Damn this weather. Of all the luck, I'm stuck with the night watch again.'
Despite his dissatisfaction, he didn't dare let it show. After all, his family had sacrificed nearly everything for him to join the navy and sail with this state-of-the-art fleet on its campaign of conquest.
As the scion of a fallen, low-ranking Warrior family, he carried the full weight of their expectations on his shoulders, so he couldn't afford the slightest mistake.
His colleagues, who hailed from the more refined districts of Kyoto, mocked him for his humble origins and thick, rural accent. They deliberately ostracized him, which was how he ended up with so many consecutive night shifts. Even so, Ichida Keizai didn't dare show a hint of displeasure.
