Victory should not, and indeed did not, co as a surprise to Lance. If he couldn’t defeat a handful of pirates with the fortune he invested, he might as well have thrown in the towel.
But the details of the battle revealed so unpleasant truths.
While there were no deaths, the number of wounded was substantial. Given their equipnt, the soldiers’ performance was disappointingly poor.
Had it been the army, they would likely have finished the battle much sooner. If it weren’t for Reynard and Dismas holding the line, the outco could have been far from certain. After all, the pirates numbered seventy-five, while they had only fifty n, operating in three-man teams.
Luckily, the limited deck space ant the first volley of gunfire took down a dozen or so – otherwise, the fight would have been far more troubleso.
Nonetheless, considering these n were greenhorns on their first battlefield, Lance could afford them so leniency.
Wilson, however, could not. These n had thoroughly embarrassed him. Despite his solemn promises to the Lord, their coordination and reaction ti were severely lacking.
Perhaps he had forgotten his own panicked debut on the battlefield, where he had perford even worse than them. If not for the captain and the first mate leading him along the way...
"Alright, alright, no matter what, this is a mory you all shall cherish for a lifeti. You protected Hamlet from pirate plunder, shielded your families and friends from slaughter – you are the heroes of Hamlet!"
Lance’s words dispelled the gloom among the soldiers. The Lord himself declaring them heroes was the highest praise they could hope for.
Lance understood that warfare could warp a man’s mind, so any war must have a ’just’ reason – this is called having a righteous cause. His words imdiately provided a psychological cornerstone: this war was just. With that established, they would fill in the rest themselves.
Lance, witnessing their morale rise, also realized that the hardest step in rebuilding Hamlet’s Navy had been taken.
Once the recruits were tempered by blood and death, they would soon grow. Surviving their most vulnerable phase, they could beco the core of an expanded force, promising a bright future for the town’s prospects.
After dealing with those matters, Lance finally approached the group of bound captives kneeling on the ground.
"My Lord," Dismas began, "these n are mbers of Redbeard’s Pirate Crew, a significant force among local pirates due to owning seven ships – this is one of them. They ca to investigate the casino affair. The fat man over there is their captain. According to the crew, he rose to his position by killing a high-ranking officer."
Dismas was interrogating the captives. He briefed the Lord upon his arrival, his gaze eventually shifting to the fat man isolated nearby as he presented a confiscated musket.
As Lance took the musket, understanding dawned on him. Its intricate design is no ordinary make. But more importantly, that emblem on the gun’s handle—a shield with a raven motif... Isn’t that Hamlet’s crest?
Undoubtedly, the naval officer who fell to this man was one of Hamlet’s own Navy.
"I understand."
Lance, expressionless, pocketed the musket. Following Dismas’s gaze to the disheveled captain, he strode forward and kicked him.
"So you’re the fucking captain, huh!"
The captain was already short and chubby, and with his hands and feet tied, the kick sent him rolling several tis like a tumbling gourd before he ca to a stop.
Struggling to lift his head, the captain looked up at the man before him, "We have no quarrel. Why attack us?"
"No quarrel?" Lance sneered with unmasked malice, leaning in to mock, "Dealing with pirates is our natural right, not to ntion you were the ones who ca looking for trouble first."
The captain’s heart sank. This is bad! Those two rchant ships actually had Ard Guards, possibly linked to soone important!
It never occurred to him that these people were Hamlet’s Navy. Who the hell would think a rundown little town could have a navy, and one so well-equipped at that?
He had even co up with an explanation for why their ship was so decrepit—it must be carrying sothing illicit. Otherwise, why would they attack just for approaching?
How could I be so unlucky...
But now wasn’t the ti to dwell on such thoughts. He hastened to explain himself.
"We are not pirates. We are fishern."
"Fishern with a sloop, huh? What big fish are you hauling in?"
"No, no, that’s not right! We’re rchants."
"Do you want to look up at what’s hanging there?" Lance kicked him over, leaving him sprawled like a turtle on its back. "rchants fly the Skull Flag, do they~"
"We hoist that flag so the pirates won’t target us. It’s a disguise..."
"Still not being honest, even now? Since you’re so stubborn," Lance gestured to Dismas beside him, "go knock all his teeth out."
"No, no, no!"
A pirate’s mouth is as loose as a prostitute’s belt. Don’t expect them to hold any secrets.
Seeing they were serious, the captain imdiately tried to surrender, but Lance gave no reaction. Dismas’s footsteps drew nearer. At this, the captain completely broke down and spilled the truth.
"We are from Redbeard’s fifth team, here rely to collect a debt, truly aning no offense – we know nothing else."
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