Chapter 157 A Whaler's Strait*

It was not until evening that the Miranda managed to leave the Southern Isles to it's North and continue on into open waters. What lay before them was Whaler's Strait, the sea that stood between Eldovia and the Southern Continent.

According to Jorl, who was the authority on pretty much every story that originated from the high seas, it was so named because the ancient tribes of the south had always used their large ships to hunt whales in these waters. It had been quite the spectacle to watch back then, and if anyone was lucky enough to see it happening these days, they would tell you it still was. The whales themselves were nearly the size of the ship, so hunting them took quite the manpower, and quite the skill to hunt them.

These days however, there were few of those tribes who were left, and the countries of the southern continent were not skilled in whale hunting. They would try occasionally, but it usually resulted in more trouble than the whale was worth. Mostly because the merfolk disliked whalers. They considered Whales to be a pure and peaceful existence in their waters, hunting them was against their laws.

How had the ancient tribes done it then? Apparently those ancient tribes knew a few things about the merfolk, some things that shouldn't be revealed. They'd reached an agreement. The Merfolk wouldn't interfere with them hunting the whales so long as they only took what they needed to survive. In return, the tribes would say nothing about the merfolk.

It was a story with quite a few guesses, but intriguing nonetheless. It made one think of the possibilities if there really were people out there who knew the intricacies of the Merfolk.

Dinner on The Miranda came and went, and the swapping of the shifts proceeded. Rassa emerged once more onto the Foredeck and Isaac climbed the main mast. The others who were on night shift were called Raden and Loft. They were both in their late twenties, and had been on the ship with Jeremiah for at least a decade.

Still, there wasn't much room for chatting with one another on a night watch, even if all you saw was open ocean. Rassa didn't feel very much like talking anyway.

Raden, who guarded the main deck, tended to spend most of the night fishing. He was quite good at it too, the fish he caught would usually be added to whatever porridge the chef cooked up for breakfast.

Loft, who guarded the Quarter Deck, spent most of his time making sure the Miranda was sailing in the right direction, navigating with the stars high above.

Find authorized novels in Webnovel，faster updates, better experience，Please click www.novelhall.com for visiting.

Isaac whittled away in the crow's nest on his latest project.

Rassa? Rassa was an oddity to the other three. He took nothing with him to keep him occupied and simply remained stationary most of the night. At first they'd thought he was falling asleep, but time and again when one of them elected to check on him, Rassa would be wide awake. Considering this, after just a few nights on duty they considered Rassa to be the most diligent out of the bunch.

In reality, Rassa's stiff posture and lack of movement had lulled them all into a sense of security. Hence, when Rassa disappeared for a couple of minutes to feed on the sleeping crew below, none of them suspected a thing, they didn't even notice he'd disappeared.

After the first week on the open ocean, Midas stated that it was time for their sparring tournament.

This took Rassa, Aegin and Ebony by surprise. They hadn't expected such a thing. Jorl stated that it was a way for the crew to relax during the three-week journey from continent to continent. There wasn't much in the way of entertainment, and while work was good, it was also nice for them to get some down time. It was therefore a regular occurrence for these week long tournaments to take place, and everyone in the crew was to take part.

Even the Captain.

The names of all the crew members were placed on small slips of paper and placed in a hat. All except Ebony, who with her lack of any training and the fact that she was a woman, had been elected to be the official judge and scorer. She'd protested at first considering she wanted to be treated as any other crew member, but the Captain had utterly refused considering she had no training. It was for this reason that she managed to weasel her way into the next tournament if she could learn come combat arts. After which she turned to Aegin and Rassa expectantly who had no choice but to follow along.

The rules were pretty simple, the hundred or so crew members would be matched up randomly for the first round, with names being drawn out of the hat until none were left. Those who lost would be eliminated. Starting from the top 25, the competition got more intense. This was because those left were often the younger and/or more skilled crew members who took their fighting ability quite seriously. Five groups of five would be created, and they would all fight each other in one-on-one battles. The top two scorers from each group would advance to the top 10, this resulted in another random draw, the winners of the five matches would create a top 5 and a follow-up five that would compete much like the top 25. The final match was when the top 2 scorers from the top 5 would compete for the number one spot.

This number one spot always received a bonus from the Captain. Sometimes it was extra pay, sometimes it was a rare item, it depended on what Jeremiah had on board at the time.

It was at this stage that Rassa became aware that Jeremiah was not the greatest fighter on board. Jorl had stated that though Jeremiah was a fierce swordsman, his age had impacted on his ability greatly in the last decade or so. Hence, he was often within the top 25, and sometimes in the top 10, but not necessarily in the top 5. This only made Rassa curious to see who would come out on top.

"Alright, first round," Ebony announced, taking a name from the hat, "Isaac, come and pick your opponent".

Isaac stepped forward, rubbing his hands together with a grin as he dipped his hand into the hat and withdrew a slip of paper. He eagerly unfolded it, and his smile dropped immediately.

"Tank".

The huge man in question guffawed, stepping forward to slap the back of poor Isaac.

"Want to give up now you chicken-legged beanpole?" Tank taunted.

Isaac frowned, "My ass!"

"Clear the way!" Ebony called, and the crew stepped back.

A circle had been drawn in chalk on the deck, and Tank and Isaac stepped into it.

The rules were simple, first to step out of the ring, or tap out, lost. There were no hits allowed above the shoulders or below the knees, the rest of was a free for all. Their weapons? Most elected not to use them as in the small circle they often became a hinderance, but there were wooden training staffs of various sizes for those who wanted them.

"Alright, remember the rules?"

The two nodded as they faced each other.

"Alright, ready...fight!"

Rassa rolled his eyes at Ebony. She was enjoying this a little too much.