Blackbeard Zord was a traditional Skelliger man, tall and thin, with a weather-beaten face. Though only in his forties, he looked closer to fifty.
Several months of hard labor had clearly worn down this man, making the old captain appear quite haggard and fatigued.
However, everyone present was quite open-hearted, and Guilliman had no airs about him. With Iron-Axe Black as an intermediary, they got along well.
After a few drinks, the Witcher directly stated that he needed to hire a captain, and for a long term.
Upon hearing this news, Blackbeard Zord visibly trembled.
However, it wasn't that the old captain was scared; it was simply that in this era, the profession of a captain was essentially linked to the ship he was familiar with.
In an age where technology was not highly developed, and many professions relied almost entirely on experience passed down through generations,
if a captain switched to a new ship, he would need to spend a considerable amount of time familiarizing himself with its operation and getting to know his vessel.
Blackbeard's ship had already been sold, so despite being an experienced captain, he could only earn money through manual labor, and no one had been willing to hire him until now.
Iron-Axe Black had quietly explained the nuances of this to Guilliman, so seeing Blackbeard Zord's somewhat troubled expression, the Witcher said in a gentle tone:
"I also happen to need to buy a good ship right now."
"Captain Zord, after we finish our drinks, let's go together to see your previous buyer and see if we can buy the ship back."
"Even if the price is a little higher, it doesn't matter. It's always easier to pilot a familiar ship."
Hearing Guilliman say this, Captain Zord's face clearly showed surprise and gratitude.
Although the ship he bought back would no longer be his, being able to once again captain and pilot his old companion was a very meaningful thing for a Skelliger.
He stood up, took a bowl of strong liquor, then bowed deeply to the Witcher, drained the bowl in one gulp, and said in a rough voice:
"Thank you, Mr. Guilliman, for thinking so highly of me and for being willing to let me captain a ship."
"From now on, no matter where we go, no matter how dangerous the place, I am willing to follow you."
Having facilitated such a partnership, helping a responsible and dependable good man find a good patron, Iron-Axe Black also seemed very happy.
He laughed heartily, urged everyone to drink, then pulled out his familiar Gwent deck from his pocket, and said with a smile:
"It's such a happy day today, how can we not play a few rounds of Gwent!"
"I'm a well-known master far and wide at the Hairy Bear Inn."
"Master Guilliman, after losing to you last time, I thought about it for a long time and reassembled a new deck. This time I'm sure I can beat you."
"You can't back out now."
... With Gwent to play,
how could our Master Guilliman back down?
However, because his new subordinate was right there, and many gamblers around eagerly ran over to watch, he didn't cheat. Instead, relying on his excellent skill, he won back the money for the drinks from Iron-Axe Black.
Watching the middle-aged dwarf scratch his ears and cheeks in a comical manner due to continuous losses, Guilliman was also amused.
After leaving the inn, the Witcher and Blackbeard Zord headed to the port to find the previous buyer of the ship.
However, after stepping out of the inn, Zord, the Skelliger man, hesitated for several tens of seconds, then suddenly made another request to Guilliman.
"Boss, could you advance me a month's salary?"
"One of my crew members suffered a severe chest injury in the previous attack by the Sirens and hasn't fully recovered yet. It costs a lot in medicine every day."
"I hope to give this money to him."
Guilliman originally had no objections to Zord's request for an advance on his salary, understanding well the hardships of an old man.
And his reason was to take care of his previously injured crew member, intending to give all his salary to the other party. Such a request, on the contrary, piqued the Witcher's interest.
"I'll go with you to see him, Captain Zord."
"You should know by now that I am a Witcher and possess some magical abilities."
"Perhaps there's something I can do to help."
He agreed to Zord's request, and as he followed Zord to the crew member's residence, he suddenly added:
"Once we buy the ship back, you can also recruit your former crew members to return."
"Of course, operating with me, a Witcher, usually means going to somewhat dangerous places, but correspondingly, the salary will also be higher than what you previously earned."
"Think carefully about which crew members would be suitable."
Captain Zord nodded silently.
For Skelliger men, sailing on the water, fighting on deck, and ultimately dying on a ship was the epitome of their lives.
And dying in dangerous combat, defeating powerful enemies, was the glory they sought.
Soon, the two arrived at a dilapidated house in the Temple Quarter. The young man, whose chest was wrapped in layers of bandages, was Blackbeard Zord's crew member.
This crew member was not very old, probably under thirty.
Unfortunately, the Siren's claws were exceptionally sharp and venomous, not only piercing through his chest flesh but also breaking two of his ribs, causing some damage to his internal organs.
This could no longer be considered a superficial wound. In an era where medical care was not highly developed, especially with the concept of disinfection not yet widespread, the chances of recovering from such an injury were less than one in ten.
Guilliman observed for a few minutes and realized that this crew member was indeed beyond saving, or rather, not worth saving.
Ordinary doctors were incapable of treating such injuries. Perhaps the natural magic of dryad maidens and druid elders could have some effect.
If he were sent to Margarita, he would certainly be saved, but the resources and favors expended would be beyond what a few hundred Orens could measure.
A high-level healer like Margarita would likely not be willing to spend one or two months saving an ordinary civilian with no special qualities.
Guilliman was not a soft-hearted person; he wouldn't trouble the woman he liked just to save someone he had no particular connection with.
However, just as he was about to turn back and tell Blackbeard Zord that he was also helpless,
he suddenly thought of a potion he rarely used, but which was the most common for other Witchers.
Swallow potion.
How to put it, this potion has a strong healing effect on Witchers. Whether it's flesh wounds or general internal organ damage, it can heal quite quickly.
But, this is a Witcher's elixir.
For ordinary people, it's a deadly poison. In this man's current weakened state, he would likely struggle to withstand even a diluted version of the poison's effects.
Guilliman considered for several tens of seconds, thinking of several different solutions.
Finally, he came up with a good idea.
He took out the magical conch gifted to him by the Lady of the Lake, then silently chanted the name Viviane in his mind.
Until the conch, held to his ear, began to vibrate slightly, and a special connection formed between his heart and a sacred, beautiful being.
A gentle, melodious voice, like that of a fairy, emerged from the conch.
"You're contacting me so soon, warrior?"
"Have you encountered some trouble?"
Listening to the pleasant voice, Guilliman smiled slightly and responded in an equally gentle voice:
"Lady Goddess, I merely wish to know."
"Can the power of this magical conch alleviate the toxicity of a Witcher's elixir, allowing our potion to be used by ordinary people?"
Hearing his question, the goddess on the other end seemed to consider for a few seconds, then softly replied:
"You can try pouring clear water into the conch, waiting for an hour, and then mixing that cup of clear water with your potion and feeding it to an ordinary person."
"Doing so, while it won't eliminate all the toxicity of the Witcher's elixir, should render it harmless to ordinary people."
"However, the detoxifying effect of this clear water will only last for about half an hour."
"It must be administered quickly."
After hearing the goddess's answer, Guilliman's amber eyes lit up.
The magical conch was truly magical, worthy of being a treasure bestowed by the goddess.
Just a cup of clear water could detoxify a Witcher's elixir. Although it couldn't be used universally, its uses were endless.
He would definitely need to further explore the uses of this magical conch in the future.
When he had nothing to do, he could have a long chat with the beautiful Lady Viviane, letting her also enjoy folk music and poetry.
Presumably, this elegant goddess would enjoy such a tune.
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