Chapter 90

Zhizhi was right. It was already early October, and as the scorching heat of summer was coming to an end, Miguel had thought they would at least enjoy a pleasant and relaxed autumn before welcoming the new year. But now, it seemed all those hopes had been dashed. The Lady Lovibond came and went like a shadow, and no one knew how to get in touch with them.

Thus, Leoza, who had originally been assigned to return to Mermaid Harbor, regained the right to board the Wind Fury. Before the red-haired teenager could even settle into the chair in the Captain’s Cabin, Caesar kindly informed him that his mission had been canceled and replaced with another one: starting from sunset today, the Hornet would turn westward while the Wind Fury would head east. The fleet would split up, and in half a month, on October 28th, they would meet back at their current location before heading together to the legendary “Land of Dusk.”

“Why should I go?” Leoza snorted, outright refusing with a defiant tone.

But Caesar, it seemed, had long been prepared for his half-brother’s reaction. When the boy across the table gave him a look of disdain, the man didn’t even bat an eyelid. He spoke slowly, each word deliberate and resolute: “Because you have no choice.”

“Even if I find Margarita, I won’t bring her to you,” Leoza slammed the table and stood up, glaring at the unshaken man. “I refuse to share the treasure from the Fountain of Youth with you, not even a single coin.”

Unexpectedly, Caesar laughed.

The smile was filled with undisguised malice and mockery.

That smile made everyone present uncomfortable. Rick looked as though he wanted to say something but held back. Miguel frowned slightly, while Zhizhi shivered and clung tightly to Miguel’s arm, her nails almost digging into the navigator’s skin.

“Fine,” the captain of the Wind Fury said indifferently, his voice calm. “You can have all the treasure. We can draw up a contract. You know why I’m searching for the Fountain of Youth.”

Leoza was momentarily stunned, seemingly caught off guard by Caesar’s swift agreement. He raised his sharp chin slightly, forming a proud arc, and his golden, sun-like eyes locked onto his brother’s amber ones. As the two stared at each other, Miguel, standing to the side, noticed for the first time that as brothers, they did share some similarities—at least in the way their eyes narrowed and their bodies tensed when they glared at each other with mutual disdain.

In the end, Leoza found no flaw in Caesar’s gaze.

And so, the two quickly drew up a contract, both signing it. Leoza snatched one copy, rolled it up swiftly, and with one last resentful glance at Miguel, he stormed off the Wind Fury.

That evening, the Hornet, which had been following the Wind Fury for a long time, led its fleet and turned away, leaving the massive armada behind.

As Leoza departed, the sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, its lingering rays setting the sea ablaze with a fiery red glow. It was as if the entire world was burning at the edge of the sky. Out on the open sea, far from land, there was nothing but the vast expanse of blue. Even the cries of seagulls and ravens were absent. Yet, the Wind Fury, with unwavering determination, led thousands of sailors, conquering the seas time and time again.

“What are you thinking about?”

The man’s deep voice interrupted Miguel’s thoughts. His arrival blocked half the sea breeze, and his black figure overshadowed the young man with black hair. Caesar leaned slightly, one hand resting on the ship’s railing. If someone were to approach from behind, they might have mistaken the scene for the captain and his man reenacting the Titanic at the bow.

But Caesar was simply using this position to lean out over the Wind Fury, following Miguel’s gaze to watch Leoza’s ship, its Spanish flag flamboyantly waving in the wind, as it sailed away.

“He’s gone. What are you still looking at?” Caesar reached out, his large hand gripping Miguel’s chin and turning it forcefully toward himself. When he noticed the uncharacteristically blank expression on Miguel’s face, he raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Are you actually feeling sentimental? Get this straight—to that brat, the damn coins in the Fountain of Youth seem more important than you.”

By the end of his sentence, Caesar was almost sneering.

Miguel, however, remained silent. He shifted slightly, making room on the chair he was sitting on, and patted the space, signaling Caesar to sit down. After a brief three-second consideration, the captain unceremoniously plopped down. Though the two grown men made the once-spacious armchair seem a bit cramped, sitting on a soft chair at the ship’s railing to watch the sunset was a first for the captain—a novel experience.

“See, that’s the Land of Dusk,” Miguel pointed toward the horizon where the sun was about to disappear. After a pause, he turned his head, his black eyes glistening brightly under the fiery red afterglow of the sun. “But no one knows what lies beyond the gates of the so-called Land of Dusk.”

“Ah,” Caesar responded half-heartedly to Miguel’s disjointed comment. He waved his hand, trying to dispel the intensity of the gaze directed at him. After two unsuccessful attempts, he simply covered Miguel’s eyes with his large hand. “Whatever’s waiting for me there, I’ll go.”

Caesar couldn’t see the emotions in Miguel’s eyes, which were hidden beneath his palm.

But he could see the small, sharp chin that peeked out from under his hand, and the way Miguel’s lips gradually tightened into a stubborn curve, tinged with some other complex emotion.

Caesar opened his mouth to say something but closed it again when he felt the faint brush of Miguel’s eyelashes against his palm.

“I shouldn’t have come back.”

“Huh?” The captain was baffled. “Come back where?”

“If I had known it would end like this, I should’ve just stayed where I was—even if it was just a dream. If staying there meant I’d die, so be it.”

Not a word made sense.

Caesar’s expression turned serious, and his hand, which was covering Miguel’s face, tightened slightly, as if in punishment. He frowned, his tone laced with displeasure. “What nonsense are you spouting?”

No answer came.

Instead, Miguel raised his hands and gently pulled Caesar’s hand away from his face. He blinked hard—yes, it was probably just a normal blink, a subconscious physiological response to prevent dry eyes. But to Caesar, at this moment, the young man before him seemed to be performing this simple action with utmost focus and seriousness.

As if trying to distract himself.

Miguel exhaled softly, releasing the tension in his lips. He let go of Caesar’s wrist, tilted his head slightly, and suddenly asked out of the blue, “If there’s a Land of Dusk, have you ever heard of the Land of Dawn?”

Caesar didn’t respond. The captain was staring at his wrist, which still held a trace of warmth.

“Hey,” Miguel, not receiving an answer, was clearly not planning to let this slide. He reached out and patted the captain’s cheek. “I’m asking you a question. Why are you spacing out?”

This act of audacity made the captain of the Wind Fury visibly uncomfortable. He swatted Miguel’s hand away, his face stiff with annoyance. “Do I have to answer just because you asked?”

“Obviously,” Miguel rolled his eyes. “Laozi finally decided to talk to you again, so you better appreciate it.”

“You’re insane.”

“Not as insane as you.”

“I’ve never heard of any Land of Dawn. Did you make it up?”

“Do I look like I have time for that?”

“Then where did you hear about it? I’ve only heard of the ‘Land of Dusk,’ which is documented in the ancient texts about the Fountain of Youth and Mermaid Harbor—something that actually exists. Where’d you pick up some hearsay from a folk legend and bring it to me?” Caesar snorted arrogantly.

“So anything you haven’t heard of is just hearsay?” Miguel sneered, the corner of his lips curling up mockingly. “Then what about the Sinan Fish? Did you think it was just messing with you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The fish that led you to Mermaid Harbor.”

The captain’s eyes narrowed slightly as he accurately pinpointed the key issue: “So you did know what it was all along.”

“…”

“Withholding information means a pay cut.”

“It just looked similar! I didn’t say it was definitely that thing! What if it wasn’t? Would you have led the entire crew into a trench to drown?”

“Know your place. One more word, and I’ll give you a taste of the whip.”

“…”

The conversation had veered off into the distance.

In the end, Miguel didn’t get a single piece of information about the “Land of Dawn”—and Caesar clearly didn’t take this “random, made-up legend” seriously either.

…

In the days that followed, the Wind Fury sailed eastward across the Mediterranean, passing Algiers and Djerba Island. They didn’t linger long in these familiar places, merely resupplying before immediately setting off again on their aimless voyage—

They searched for ten days but found no trace of the Lady Lovibond. They questioned every maritime informant, but all of them told the frustrated pirate captain that the last sighting of the Lady Lovibond had been months ago, during their encounter with the Wind Fury.

As the fifteen-day deadline with Leoza approached.

As the once-every-four-years full moon on the first of November, as Zhizhi had mentioned, drew near.

The raven sent by Leoza arrived, sincerely and irritably confessing that he, too, had found nothing.

Caesar was almost ready to give up.

But just as Caesar was hesitating over whether to order a return to the meeting point with Leoza, on a moonless night, a dense fog rolled in over the sea.

And, in a moment of despair, an ancient ship emerged from the waters, and Margarita stood beneath the mast of the Lady Lovibond, waving cheerfully at Caesar on the Wind Fury.

Well, they made it after all. Miguel propped his chin on his hand, lazily leaning against the ship’s railing. It’s truly despair-inducing.