Chapter 4: A New Identity
The navigation log lay open before Byron, its contents revealing his abilities and predicament with such clarity that his future path became immediately apparent.
"For me now," he murmured to himself, "enhancing my supernatural power is the top priority."
Among the two innate abilities that he could activate at all times without consuming spirituality, 'Cognitive Correction' stood out as a top-notch survival skill, despite its current limitations and effectiveness only on low-sequence supernaturals.
"And 'Weather Intuition'—a dream skill for any sailor or navigator!" he exclaimed under his breath.
Yet, for escape and revenge, these two innate abilities were far from sufficient.
"I must complete my profession as soon as possible," he resolved, "and at least obtain a rank in a combat-oriented supernatural sequence to have basic self-defense capabilities."
His thoughts turned to the entry bestowed by the log—'Historical Revisionist'—and he knew he needed to activate it.
"Moreover," he added, raising his left hand, "I happen to have a key item that can be used for the profession ritual."
But as he looked down, his heart sank. The family "signet ring" that should have adorned his index finger was missing! Panic rose within him until he noticed the sapphire buttons on his shirt cuffs were also gone. A calmness settled over him as he realized the implications.
"I was rescued by a merchant ship and then captured by pirates," he reasoned. "Expecting them to leave my belongings untouched is just a dream."
After a moment's hesitation, his resolve hardened.
"First, I need to retrieve the personal items looted by the pirates from the 'Maneater,' especially the most important family 'signet ring.'"
He knew this item, imbued with supernatural power and symbolizing the Lancaster family's sovereignty, was crucial for completing the next supernatural profession ritual and blocking any subsequent divination or pursuit by the York family.
"I'll ride the pirate ship to leave the English coastal waters as quickly as possible," he plotted. "Afterward, whether it's venturing into the vast North Sea or heading to overseas colonies, there are countless opportunities waiting for me."
The 'Navigation Log' would be his guide, allowing him to grow quickly by continuously exploring the unknown world.
"It perfectly fits this era of great navigation," he mused, "which has just begun less than a hundred years ago and still has many blanks on the map."
Excluding the self-entrapping path of the navy, other options like privateer captain, pirate, independent adventurer, bounty hunter... were all viable!
Byron grabbed the carved decoration on the stern gallery of the pirate ship and climbed up silently, his movements fluid and purposeful.
At the end of the log, a line of ink wrote: The Lancaster's hatred is hidden for now, but there will come a day when blood and fire sing together.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen located in the lower deck of the "Maneater," a young man wearing a white chef's hat stood frozen in front of the cutting board, a kitchen knife in hand.
Outside the porthole, the screams of the merchant ship's sailors transitioned from high-pitched to weak, then to silence. The young man muttered to himself, his expression bordering on madness.
"I didn't do anything wrong!" he insisted. "The captain insisted on that ridiculous chivalric code, vowing to protect Lord Crawford's property, which was the backbone of the now-defunct Lancaster faction."
He recalled warning the captain that the eight virtues of knighthood were all jokes on the treacherous high seas, and old-fashioned diehards didn't last long.
"If the captain hadn't recklessly led the charge team to counterattack the pirate ship, I wouldn't have shot him in the back," he confessed. "It's said that the captain of the Maneater, 'Blood Eye' Salman, is ruthless and a powerful supernatural. Once he makes a move, everyone dies. Now, at least I've survived, which is completely worth it!"
But as he looked down at the ingredients on the cutting board, panic replaced his momentary relief.
"I'm just an ordinary sailor and part-time cook," he lamented. "Even the crude crew members complain about my cooking skills. How could I possibly know how to prepare exquisite noble dishes?"
He was acutely aware of the England's culinary limitations, knowing that only by going to the neighboring France could he hope to satisfy the palate of the ferocious 'Blood Eye' captain.
"Those pirates said to prepare myself," he fretted, "as they'll soon take me to meet the ferocious 'Blood Eye' to understand his tastes and prepare meals."
His anxiety was palpable as he paced back and forth, the sound of his footsteps echoing ominously on the lower deck.
The young man, the cook from the Pelican merchant ship, was the only one given a chance to survive, as mentioned by the first mate "Bone Crusher" Miles. However, the premise was that he must use his experience of "serving nobles" to conquer the discerning palate of Captain 'Blood Eye' Salman of the Maneater.
Unfortunately, he was just a self-aggrandizing imposter.
The thought of this pirate captain, like the "cannibals" in stories, eating live people, terrified him to the core.
He looked around, finding the kitchen empty, with no pirates paying attention to him.
Gripping the kitchen knife, he approached the porthole, intending to stick his head out to see if he could escape by jumping into the sea. But the fear of the sharks that had devoured his companions made him pull his head back in. His indecision was a vivid testament to his fear.
As the seconds ticked by, the sound of pirates' footsteps echoed ominously outside the kitchen once more. The young man, driven by a surge of desperation, gritted his teeth and cautiously extended his head out of the porthole.
In an instant, a powerful hand, as unyielding as an iron hoop, clamped down on his neck from below the porthole.
Snap!
Without a moment to plead for mercy, his neck was twisted with merciless precision, snapping it.
As the cook's vision darkened and his consciousness began to fade, he heard a cold, emotionless voice declare, "Traitors deserve to die!"
It was Byron, who had just scaled the pirate ship from the stern, overhearing the last survivor of the merchant ship muttering to himself. Without hesitation, he had acted decisively.
Seizing the cook by his broken neck, Byron dragged the upper half of his body out of the porthole. Noticing the kitchen knife still clutched tightly in the cook's hand, Byron realized that had he not been decisive, he might now be nursing an injury.
He snatched the kitchen knife and, with an impassive expression, made several deep cuts on the cook's body before casually discarding the corpse into the sea. He watched dispassionately as the body was engulfed by a swarm of man-eating sharks.
Only then did he turn and climb through the porthole into the kitchen.
He picked up the chef's hat that had fallen to the ground during the struggle, dusted it off, and placed it atop his head. As he turned, a deep blue spiritual light, reminiscent of the sea, emanated from his eyes, and Byron's demeanor transformed in the blink of an eye.
This was his innate ability, 'Cognitive Correction.'
"In this scenario," he mused, "calling it 'Psychological Disguise Technique' might be more fitting."
He examined his hands, which appeared unchanged on the surface, yet now bore the cook's image, name, demeanor, and all his characteristics. To any onlooker, he was the cook, and Byron had seemingly vanished from the world.
It was akin to someone born with red-green color blindness, unaware of their condition until informed by another.
"Though this identity lacks high status, it's on par with the pirate officers—the first mate, second mate, helmsman, and gunnery officer. As a newcomer, like myself, it has no established memories of interactions with the pirates and no need to inherit the original interpersonal relationships. It's the perfect guise for me to blend into the 'Maneater' and hitch a ride."
Bang!
The kitchen door swung open abruptly, and a young-looking pirate stepped inside. He paused briefly upon seeing the figure in the chef's hat before greeting him with a natural ease.
"New cook, the great Captain 'Blood Eye' awaits you. Follow me at once. By the way, I haven't asked your name yet."
Straightening his hat, Byron smiled amiably at the young pirate.
"Byron," he replied smoothly, "my name is Byron Tudor."
Chapter 5: Captain Salman's Unspoken Issue
The "Navigation Log" revealed that Byron, the last of the Lancasters, bore a legend rating of [12], signifying recognition across an entire region. His name was likely known among the elite of England, particularly within the York family, his sworn enemies. There might even be a warrant for his arrest.
Yet, Byron was unfazed by the prospect of exposure due to a mere name. This was because, nearly a millennium ago, the church—the highest authority on the Old Continent—issued a peculiar decree. Believers were restricted to choosing names for their children from the 65 male and 48 female names listed in the "Gospel of Creation," with any other names strictly forbidden. This edict persisted until 1453 AD, 18 years prior, when it was finally revoked, though its influence remained.
In the numerous countries that worshipped the "Creator," the repetition of names was staggering. Commoners resorted to nicknames like "Fatty" or "Shorty," while nobles prefixed their names with their fiefdoms to distinguish themselves. Even the names of kings were frequently repeated, necessitating the addition of "so-and-so the nth" for differentiation.
For instance, Byron's uncle, the former king of England known as "Mad King" Henry VI, was the sixth king named Henry in the dynasty. His predecessor, Byron's grandfather Henry V, was the fifth, and his great-grandfather Henry IV was the fourth.
Thus, Byron needed only to change his surname to evade detection. "Tudor" was borrowed from his mother in this life.
The young pirate leading the way was no different. After subtly probing for information, Byron learned that the pirate's name was Little Hans, and his father, Old Hans, both carpenters on the pirate ship, had been captured during a raid, much like Byron. However, their fate was kinder than that of the crew of the "Pelican." Not only were they spared from the sharks, but their exceptional carpentry skills also earned them a high status on the pirate ship.
'High status? And young?' Byron recognized an opportunity to gather intelligence and deliberately slowed his pace.
The two ascended the wooden ladder of the pirate ship, from the lower deck near the hold, through the gun deck, and up the stairs to the open deck. Little Hans, unaware that by simply walking this route, the navigation log had delved into the history of the pirate ship through the "Echo of History," led the way.
Deep blue ink swiftly inscribed details onto the pages:
"Pirate Ship 'Maneater': A small galleon, a modification of a carrack.
Measuring 22 meters in length, 6 meters in width, with a draft of 2.75 meters and a displacement of 200 tons, it boasts 7 six-pound cannons on each side of the open deck and 2 two-pound cannons at the bow and stern.
The hull and deck are constructed from white oak, a specialty of the England's Channel Islands, while the masts are made of snow fir from Scandinavia.
Originally a merchant vessel of the Bantaan Overseas Trading Company of England, it was meticulously modified by the shipwright Old Hans.
The forecastle and sterncastle were lowered to enhance speed and maneuverability, the gun deck was converted into living quarters for the sailors, and the armament was upgraded from the original four-pound cannons to six-pound cannons at considerable expense.
In terms of speed, firepower, and personnel, it is more than capable of overpowering other merchant ships of the same class.
Its estimated value is around 10,350 pounds, slightly more than a sixth-rate cruiser built by the Navy, but far from the cost of a fifth-rate ship, with an even wider gap in combat effectiveness.
Nonetheless, as a vessel for a novice captain, it is more than adequate."
Within a three-meter radius, every object Byron focused on would generate a detailed "material" record in the log, akin to having an experienced appraiser by his side. As long as it did not involve supernatural forces, Byron could uncover most secrets with a mere glance.
To delve into the mysteries of supernatural entities or events, he had to expend his own "spirituality" to gain insights, whether shallow or profound. Then, like a detective, he would use conventional methods to unravel the mystery piece by piece, revealing the ultimate secret.
Observing the prompt from the "Navigation Log," Byron felt a surge of confidence and casually patted the polished wooden ladder railing beside him, offering a seemingly offhand compliment:
"The carrack merchant ships of the Bantaan Overseas Trading Company are quite mediocre in design. However, the shipwright's exceptional skills have breathed new life into this ship through the later modifications.
I have served as a noble steward, attending to the esteemed Lord Crawford, and had the honor of serving with him in the Channel Fleet for a time. I am acquainted with many renowned shipwrights in England and even across the Old Continent.
In my opinion, only the ship engineers of the Royal Dockyard, with the High Tower sequence 'Craftsman' profession, could possess such exquisite skills."
As anticipated, Byron caught a glimpse of Little Hans's suppressed smile and the slight reddening of the acne scar on his nose, betraying his excitement.
Little Hans, his face alight with joy, took Byron's hand and exclaimed excitedly, "Byron... sir, I never expected you to have such discerning taste and knowledge of shipbuilding!
To be honest, the shipwright who modified this ship is none other than my father. He's always been my idol and role model.
Though my father never achieved 'spiritual' sublimation to become a High Tower sequence 'Craftsman,' in terms of experience and skill in shipbuilding, he would never lose to those renowned figures.
My father would be overjoyed to know that someone appreciates his work so much. After we meet with the captain, we must have a drink together."
Byron feigned ignorance and surprise, "A master shipwright is right here beside me?"
He then modestly waved his hands, "I was merely stating the truth. Anyone with a basic understanding of sailing ships can see the excellence of this pirate ship at a glance. However, it would be my honor to meet such a master!"
Flattery, it seemed, never failed. A craftsman took pride in his craft, and praising his skills struck just the right chord. Every capable father was an idol in his son's eyes, and acknowledging his father's abilities was even more gratifying than acknowledging his own. Praising a son in front of his father would have an even greater effect.
Moreover, the praise came from a noble steward who had served the upper echelons of the kingdom and witnessed many grand occasions, setting it apart from the compliments of the ignorant and uncouth.
Byron's simple, yet well-placed praise had stacked three buffs.
Little Hans, not particularly cunning, instantly felt a surge of goodwill towards Byron and subconsciously slowed his pace to match Byron's, his chatterbox now open.
He not only enthusiastically explained the ship's facilities along the way but also introduced the "newcomer" to various precautions on board.
Byron occasionally interjected with a few words, subtly reinforcing his own persona—a noble steward in the service of Lord Crawford, not only skilled in cooking but also knowledgeable, with a refined manner of speaking that made people feel like a spring breeze.
He even occasionally shared anecdotes related to the lord and the upper nobility of the kingdom, leaving Little Hans unable to detect any flaws.
The young man couldn't possibly imagine that the original cook was actually a self-aggrandizing imposter.
And Byron, this "imposter," was not only a descendant of the nobility himself but also had Lord Crawford as a close retainer of the Lancasters.
The new identity required no acting.
However, even the longest journey comes to an end.
Feeling particularly congenial with Byron, Little Hans's eyes grew complex, and he hesitated several times before speaking.
It wasn't until they were about to reach the open deck that he mustered the courage to whisper a warning, "Mr. Byron, the captain's appearance is somewhat... uh, special.
When you meet the captain, please don't lose your composure. The captain despises it when people look at him differently.
And also..."
A flash of fear passed through his eyes, and he lowered his voice even further, "Do you know why, on this ship, every other position is filled except for the cook?
On this ship, while other positions also have their dangers, the cook is undoubtedly the most perilous role, without a doubt!
Since I've been on board, I haven't seen any cook last more than a month under the captain.
Most of them disappear within just a few days and are never seen again.
If you're not completely confident in your cooking skills and can't constantly provide the captain with new experiences,
It's best to find a scapegoat as soon as possible and get rid of that chef's hat."
"Dangerous?"
Hearing this, Byron also paused in his steps.
He hadn't expected that behind what should have been a very relaxed "job interview" for him, there would be such peculiarities.
Even more unexpectedly, the navigation log hidden in his right eye suddenly began to write automatically again.
At the end of the page, after the only blood-red supernatural record, Secret: The Shadow of the Red and White Rose War (Historical Influence 31%, Decryption Rate 11%), a new record was formed.
You have discovered a new secret:
Captain 'Blood Eye' Salman's Unspoken Issue (It may change the fate of over a hundred people on the ship, Historical Influence 4%, Decryption Rate 8%)!
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