Ticky's kindness doesn't stop there.
Just yesterday, Kedson reported the progress of the "shantytown redevelopnt" to him, and Ticky patted his shoulder, saying in a aningful manner—
"Work hard, young man. I can tell you're a poor devil who has sailed for a lifeti without owning a ship. But I'm different. Once you finish building the port, those houses won't just be yours, I'll appoint you as the Governor of Withered Wood Port!"
"A letter of appointnt personally signed by the Imperial Nobles—since you're an Imperial citizen, you should know its worth."
Isn't it funny?
There's a broken flagpole standing on this beach, where's the port?
And although this Baron Territory seems large, he hasn't seen a single villager here.
Nevertheless, Kedson's breathing beca rapid.
Port Governor...
The opportunity to change fate seems to have truly arrived!
And precisely because of this—
Since that day, he has been working harder than before, even waking up early and leading his brothers to work without Ticky's urging.
Ti passed bit by bit, and soon it was noon.
Just as Kedson was about to call his brothers for lunch, a sailor suddenly rushed over, excitedly saying to him.
"Boss! There's a ship on the sea!"
A ship?
Kedson froze slightly, then showed ecstatic delight, grabbing his shoulder and said.
"Where?! Quick! Take there—not right! Go quickly! First light a fire! Let them see we're here!"
"They've already seen us!" The sailor exclaid nervously and quickly, "I saw them, they've lowered a small boat and are rowing towards us!"
While speaking, a rowboat appeared on the horizon, and five people could faintly be seen sitting aboard, with two oars working vigorously.
Kedson hurriedly went to the coast to greet them, just in ti to see those five jump off the rowboat, their boots stepping onto the shore.
The man leading soon noticed him, adjusted his collar slightly, and then strode forward, his posture straight, his expression composed.
"I am Derek," he said in a clear voice with a standard Imperial local accent, "Captain of the Grace. We deviated from the course in a storm, damaged the rudder, and the steam boiler also had so issues, now unable to continue the voyage."
He paused, glancing at the flag flapping in the wind along the shore, and then looked at Kedson's dust-covered coat, cautiously saying.
"I saw the Imperial flag on the ship... May I ask, is this Imperial colonial territory?"
As he spoke, the four behind him watched around alertly, their hands unconsciously near their guns.
Kedson stood straight, instinctively straightening his back. As he observed Derek, he quickly calculated in his mind.
The man spoke with a military tone but was not wearing a standard military uniform. The fabric was high quality, the buttons were polished copper, the boots gleaming, and the hat had a touch of "showiness."
He didn't seem like an ordinary captain—more like soone with a minor military position or a distant relative of so noble.
Most importantly, the na "Grace."
Old sailors who have long been in the sea know: true rchant ships typically have down-to-earth nas like "Sardine," "Whale," or "Double Mast."
A na like "Grace" sounds like a na given by a Priest after blessing the ship, unless it's a warship or a toy of so big shot.
Kedson glanced at the sea, only vaguely seeing the outline of a three-masted steam sailboat in the distance, unable to discern the deck or whether cannons were installed.
Reading the vigilance in the other's eyes, Kedson knew what he was worried about, no more than worrying he was a wanted criminal or a pirate involved in smuggling.
However—
Such worry was obviously unnecessary.
He cleared his throat, imitating Baron Ticky's tone, and said pretentiously.
"... That's right, this is Baron Ticky Cosia's territory, under the colonial domain of Prince Roxey Colin. This is certainly Imperial land... See the fortress nearby? That's Baron Ticky's castle."
As he spoke, Kedson pointed to a nearby hill, where a simple yet seemingly credible fortress stood, with a few Imperial style muzzle-loaders vaguely visible—they were models manufactured in the eastern factories of the Vortex Sea.
Derek subconsciously looked towards the nearby fortress, froze slightly, and then repeated with a frown.
"...Prince Colin?"
The na he hadn't heard.
"That's right, the Colin family has been managing here for many years... I don't know the specifics, but that's how it is."
Seeing Kedson speak with such certainty, Derek relaxed the frowned brows, quickly adjusting his facial expression.
Imperial Nobles are as dense as stars, and a prince title, though not a true nobility, while not common, is not that rare either.
After all, the Emperor is immortal, but his children have multiplied for who knows how many generations, and there are too many related families.
If a noble has a concrete Duke Domain, he would self-title as Duke or Grand Duke. But if his domain is insignificant or doesn't want attention, he would use the ambiguous prince title as an identity suffix.
An obscure "Prince Colin" in a remote new colonial territory is not surprising.
Considering he needed help, he no longer probed deeper, his tone significantly more polite.
"Please inform Baron Ticky for , our crew needs fresh water and food, and it would be best if soone could help us repair the ship..."
He paused, adding.
"Of course, we won't let you assist us without recompense, we're willing to buy at a reasonable price... and please give us so leniency for Saint Sis's sake."
Seeing that this ship also dropped anchor, Kedson felt disappointed yet had no other way, he nodded and said.
"I will convey your ssage, please wait a mont."
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