Chapter 202

Chapter 202

Evan walked to the ship's railing, gazing at the fading black mist in the distance, lost in thought. How exactly were those skeletons in the Sea of the Dead formed? Why were they trapped within that black mist? These questions lingered in his mind, but this was clearly not the time to delve into them.

Laura approached Lillian and gently comforted her, "Miss, it's safe now. No need to be afraid anymore."

Lillian nodded, a faint smile appearing on her face. "Miss Laura, you've worked hard. That was truly dangerous just now."

The crew began cleaning up the mess on the deck—some clearing bone fragments and wood chips, others repairing damaged ropes and planks, and a few checking the condition of the cannons. Though exhausted, everyone worked diligently, knowing that a clean and tidy ship was essential for the journey ahead. Sunlight bathed the deck, and the sea breeze remained gentle, but the fierce battle just moments ago had left a deep impression on everyone's minds.

Evan leaned against the railing, closing his eyes to recover his spent spirit energy. The fight had been brief, but he'd used up a good deal of his spirit energy; he needed to get back to full strength quickly in case of any further surprises on the voyage.

The sailboat sailed steadily across the sea as the crew methodically tidied up the deck and repaired the damaged ropes and planks. Evan rested by the railing, his spirit energy slowly circulating within him, gradually returning to its peak. Laura stayed by Lillian's side, occasionally chatting with her to ease her lingering fears.

Two hours flew by. On the distant horizon, the outline of an island gradually emerged. As the distance closed, the island's details became clearer—green fields stretched all the way to the shore, and the wind carried the sweet smell of sugarcane and grapes. This was the Eleventh Island.

As the sailboat approached the dock of the Eleventh Island, Evan opened his eyes and scanned the harbor ahead, quickly noticing the differences from the Red Anchor Dock on the Twelfth Island.

The Red Anchor Dock was bustling, with a variety of docked sailboats—passenger ships, merchant vessels, and numerous small fishing boats—buzzing with noise and life. In contrast, the dock of the Eleventh Island was notably quiet, with only a handful of ships tied up at the dock, mostly large cargo vessels stacked high with bulging sacks, clearly used to transport agricultural products like sugarcane and grapes. There were no vendors or tourists bustling about, only a few dockworkers slowly unloading cargo. The air carried a mix of earth and sea, giving off a simple, countryside vibe.

Captain Hock expertly guided the sailboat, easing it up to the mooring posts on the pier.

The crew threw out ropes, working with the dockworkers to secure the ship firmly, then set up the gangplank. Lillian smoothed out her slightly rumpled poofy dress, a relaxed smile spreading across her face. After that fight, she seemed a little tougher, not as skittish as she used to be.

Just as Lillian was about to disembark, Evan noticed a middle-aged man standing at the edge of the dock.

He wore a dark gray tailcoat, his hair meticulously combed, with a warm and respectful smile on his face. Holding a black top hat, he was staring hard at the sailboat, clearly waiting for someone.

The man's demeanor was calm and capable, every gesture exuding the meticulousness typical of a butler, a sharp contrast to the island's down-to-earth vibe.

"That's the butler from Gray Manor!" Lillian's eyes lit up when she saw him, quickly stepping onto the gangplank.

The middle-aged man spotted Lillian and immediately hurried over, bowing respectfully. "Miss, you've finally arrived. The master told me to wait for you here." His voice was warm and low, respectful without being a suck-up.

"Thanks for your trouble, Butler Burn." Lillian replied with a smile, her tone very familiar. Clearly, she was quite acquainted with this butler.

Butler Burn straightened up, his gaze sweeping over Evan and Laura as they followed Lillian off the ship. Noticing the supernatural vibe around them, a knowing look flashed in his eyes, and he bowed again. "You must be the guardian sir and lady hired by the master? Thank you both for escorting the miss safely. The master asked me to convey his gratitude."

"Just doing our job." Evan nodded slightly, and Laura gave a gentle nod in return. They quickly scanned the dock area and only relaxed when they saw nothing was off.

Butler Burn didn't pry. Turning to Lillian, he said, "Miss, the carriage is ready, just outside the dock. Let's get back to the manor. The master's got lunch ready at the manor." He gestured toward the dock entrance.

Evan and Laura followed Lillian toward the dock entrance.

Exiting the dock, they saw three carriages parked by the roadside.

Compared to the black ornate carriage Lillian had ridden in on the Twelfth Island, these were indeed much simpler—no intricate carvings or lavish decorations. The bodies were plain brown wood, and the wheels lacked rubber wrapping, giving them a very rustic appearance. However, upon closer inspection, the carriages were noticeably roomy, almost half again as wide as normal ones, with ample height. Even Lillian in her voluminous fluffy dress could sit comfortably without feeling cramped.

"These three carriages were specially prepared for you, miss. Though not as luxurious as those at home, they are roomy and comfortable. The roads here are pretty rough, but the extra room should help with the bumps." Butler Burn explained, his tone considerate.

Lillian nodded, satisfied. "This is perfect. I never liked being too flashy anyway."

She stepped into the first carriage, followed by her two maids.

Butler Burn gestured to Evan and Laura. "Guardians, please take the second carriage, right behind the miss's. The third carriage will carry the luggage, with a servant to watch over it."

Evan and Laura exchanged a glance and nodded in agreement.

Laura first inspected the second carriage's cabin, confirming it was safe before she and Evan boarded. The interior was indeed spacious, with soft cotton cushions that made for a comfortable ride. The windows were open, offering a clear view of the surroundings—on both sides of the road stretched green fields, where many natives in coarse clothing toiled busily. They bent over, harvesting sugarcane or tending to grapevines, their movements skilled but weary.

The carriage slowly started, wheels rumbling over the dirt road with a slight jolt.

Evan leaned against the carriage wall, gazing through the window at the natives in the fields. He recalled what the bartender had said earlier—though they were no longer slaves, their wages were only a quarter of those of poor whites, and they did the hardest work. The scene before him confirmed that.

The natives in the fields were mostly dark-skinned, thin, and covered in sweat, working tirelessly under the scorching sun. Not far away, at the manor gate, a few well-dressed white overseers stood idly, occasionally shouting orders.

"Life here for the natives is truly harsh." Laura's voice sounded in the carriage. She too had noticed the scene outside, her tone tinged with sympathy.

"Our mission is to escort the miss. These matters are beyond our control." Evan replied softly, his voice calm. Though he felt a pang of empathy, he knew his position was too insignificant to change anything. For now, the priority was to complete the task and collect the reward.

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