Chapter 1120 - A Cape City

Chapter 1120: A Cape City

Translator: Transn Editor: Transn

“Here comes the ship, chaps! Get going!” Simbady hollered while wringing his fist in the air.

“Yup!” The Fishbone clansmen all swarmed toward the dock and commenced working. Some of them went to fix cables while some build springboards. Although everything seemed to be a chaos at the first glance, everybody knew what they were doing. These clansmen were as good as experienced sailors. It was uninmaginable that just a year and a half ago, they had never been to the sea, let alone working on a ship.

The ship was quickly unloaded.

“Simbady, they say we can load the ship now!”

“Red or black, and how many for each, do you know?”

“Rest assured. I wrote it all down on the back of my hand!”

“Great! Let’s begin!”

The word “black” was the term they used specifically to describe the black water of the Styx River, which was the only product produced at the Endless Cape. Nonetheless, as the mine gradually expanded, Sand Nationals found two more underground streams bearing two different colors: deep red and dark green. They were both combustible, only their properties and scents were quite different. To avoid confusion, they called the black water “black”, and soon northerners adopted this name as well.

This was the fourth time that Simbady came to work at the Festive Harbor.

The first time he had stepped on this deserted land, he had simply wanted to survive the first three months and then stay as far away from this place as possible. However, much to his surprise, a city was gradually formed at the far south of the desert. If the revival of oases was a miracle, then the development of the Festive Harbor was a divine bliss.

The reason the Endless Cape had always been a settlement to exile prisoners was that there had literally been nothing except perils and dangers. Even the most experienced hunter would not be able to survive on this land. Sand Nationals believed only Three Gods could build a town with hundreds of thousands of residents out of this bleak emptiness.

Simbady had thought the chief would eventually abandon his ridiculous idea after several fruitless attempts. He had not expected, however, that it was Sand Nationals themselves, who had been living in the desert for hundreds of years, were the ignorant ones.

There was something at the Endless Cape.

They had just never noticed it.

The first problem they had solved was water.

That official from the northern kingdom named Konkrete first took them to a large pond surrounded by numerous sheds covered with black films. They did not find anything unusual about it at first, but after the Months of Demons, they soon noticed white salt had come out of the seawater. Water vapor condensed into liquid on the films, trickled down a slope into a groove, and finally into a water storage tank. Water was collected in a much faster manner when heat went up. Although they could not produce much drinking water with one pond, they could collect a lot with several hundred.

As the number of such ponds increased, they now not only had sufficient water for daily use but also excess for the ships from Neverwinter. This technology completely broke Sand Nation’s stereotype that there was no water in the desert.

The second was accommodation.

Apart from water, they also had to shelter themselves from the scorching sun in summer. Tents were obviously not a long-term solution.

It was rumored that all the building materials shipped to the Iron Sand City were from the Southernmost Region when it had yet to be a desert. That was why there was only one city at the Silver Stream, although there were many oases.

Northerners taught them to use local materials to build houses.

They built numberless furnaces, fueled them with the Blackwater, filled them with dirts at the bottom of the sea, and then mixed them with sifted fine sand to make bricks. Since there was an inexhaustible supply of dirts and sand, soon brick houses rose at the Festive Harbor, with double-bricked external walls and ceilings. Although the houses were not shaded by trees like those on the oases, they were, at least, proper dwellings.

The last was food.

The elder of the Osha Clan Thuram instructed them to spread dozens of fishing nets at the beach, which would totally submerge in tidal waves when the seawater rose. Once tides ebbed way, many strange creatures would cling to the nets, such as crabs, sea snakes and sea urchins. At first, Simbady was too afraid to try these gruesome food. However, under the threat of a whipping punishment, he forced himself to eat.

They were actually pretty good.

Although Sand Nationals still relied on Neverwinter for staples, they ate much better than a year and a half ago.

With a place to live and food to eat, Simbady gradually changed his mind. After the three months was over, he made a choice that even astonished himself — he chose to stay at the Festive Harbor.

First of all, the pay was much higher than in the Port of Clearwater.

Also, there was another reason.

…

After the last ship was loaded, everybody packed up, ready to go home.

“Simbady, good job, man!”

“See you tomorrow, Big Sim!”

“I’m going to the marketplace later. Do you want to tag along?”

Since he had worked here for several times, Simbady had naturally become the superintendent for the Fishbone Clan and the first person Thuram would go to when there was a new task. He was flattered by how much trust people placed in him. Back at the Silver Stream Oasis, he used to be one of the most insignificant members of the clan. Few people would voluntarily talk to him, let alone seeking his instructions. But now, not only young men treated him as a leader but girls started to ask him out as well. Simbady felt grateful to the chief. His heart swelled with pride.

However, Simbady turned down these girls’ offers.

Because he already had someone he wanted to ask out.

“Hey, wait for me, Simbady!”

When he was about to leave the dock to look for Mulley, he heard a familiar voice.

Simbady could not help curling up his lips. He turned around but his smile suddenly froze on his face.

It was Mulley, a girl with a black pony tail, who had always been so kind and generous to him.

After Carlone left the advance unit, Mulley stayed, which was another reason Simbady chose to live here. Simbady had thought with Carlone leaving the desert, he would have a chance to win Mulley’s heart, but he had not expected Mulley would bring another man here.

And that man was not from the Mojin Clan!

“Mulley, you… and him…” Simbady stammered.

“Ah!” It seemed Mulley had just noticed that she was grasping the other man’s hand. She immediatly disengaged herself and said with an uncomfortable smile, “I wanted you to meet him, so I brought him here.”

“Oh… r-really?”

“Agh, this lady is so strong,” the man said, panting. “I couldn’t stop her. She just dragged me here… Now I see how strong the Mojin Clan is.” With these words, he studied Simbady up and down and said, “Let me introduce myself… I’m Rex, from the Fjords across the channel.”

“I know you’re from the Fjords,” Simbady said, stepping between them, eyes full of alert. “I don’t have any relics you want. You can leave now!”

In the past three months, the arrival of Fjords people shattered the peaceful life at the booming Festive Harbor. A large number of Fjords ships sailed to the Endless Cape, creating unprecedented trouble.

Those islanders who claimed to be explorers dug holes everywhere and purchased weird products from the advance troop, making the entire Festive Harbor boisterous and chaotic. Their sudden arrival did attract many Mojins to buy things they liked from their marketplace instead of from the Port of Clearwater, but these foreigners created more problems than convenience.

For example, one explorer had fallen into the underground river when he had tried to explore it. In the end, the advance troop had had to rescue him.

Another explorer had purchased tons of strange stones and metal wares from a Sand National with false money, which had almost caused a physical altercation between the two parties.

The worst one was that some of them had tried to steal the lifeline of the Festive Harbor — the special films on the sheds used for the water tanks. They finally had had to send for the First Army to settle the matter. The wrongdoers had later been escorted to Neverwinter and sentenced to lifetime heavy labor at the mine.

The avalanche of trouble made Simbady very suspicious of every single Fjord citizen.

“I’m not planning to buy anything. Compared to some shady businesses, I prefer to work my way up,” Rex said while rubbing his hands excitedly. “This is a good opportunity to improve the reputation of the Society of Wondrous Crafts.”