87.

It was an unnamed low-ranking soldier who pulled him out of his thoughts. When Cardier’s gaze landed on him, a stiff, sharp salute was returned.

“What is it?”

“The Admiral is looking for you.”

Cardier took one final deep drag from his cigar, then crushed it out. He crumpled the remaining cigar and ash into a portable ashtray.

“Let’s go.”

The soldier, who had been dumbfounded at how impossibly picturesque the man looked even to another man, snapped back to his senses upon hearing the brief command.

“Yes, sir.”

Six schooners had set sail for this operation. Though it was unlike the usual practice of not putting all eggs in one basket, the Admiral’s schooner and the Vice Admiral’s were supposed to maintain a distance of five tars (nautical miles) apart. Taking a boat from the stern gallery would have been faster to cross. Yet the young soldier led not toward the stern gallery, but toward the captain’s cabin.

“The boat—”

“Oh. The Admiral has already boarded.”

Already boarded? Cardier tilted his head slightly. Each schooner fell under its own commander’s jurisdiction, and the Admiral was not someone who casually left his assigned vessel.

It had only been half a day since they’d completed their final supply run and concluded the officers’ meeting. There couldn’t possibly have been any urgent developments in that time. Yet an inexplicable unease rippled at the soles of his feet. Cardier pushed past the young soldier and half-ran to stand before the door of the captain’s cabin.

“I’ll be entering.”

“Go ahead.”

Cardier straightened his crumpled uniform and opened the door. He immediately snapped off a salute, which the Admiral casually acknowledged with a raised hand. The Admiral, Persen, had comfortably claimed the seat of honor in the captain’s cabin as if it were his own office, calmly sipping tea. At this absurd sight, Cardier let out a wry smile, utterly speechless.

“Sit there. Let’s talk.”

The Admiral gestured with his chin toward a chair for Cardier. Despite not being the rightful occupant of this cabin, he acted as naturally as a host receiving a guest in his own study. Instead of arguing, Cardier sat down across from him.

“Why have you come over at this hour of night?”

“It’s not urgent, so relax and sit.”

“……”

Not urgent? It was nearly the middle of the night. This was utterly unbelievable considering the father he had known and respected. Yet Persen showed no sign of revealing his true intentions. Cardier sighed and took the seat the Admiral had offered.

“Tea?”

“I’ve had some.”

“Have another cup.”

The Admiral poured tea into the cup, cooled to just the right temperature. Without even checking the warmth, Cardier downed it in two or three gulps. Then, with a clatter, he set the cup down and spoke.

“What exactly is the reason you came?”

“The way you speak. Can’t a father talk to his son without suspicion?”

“You’re not the kind of man to do that. Surely I know you better than that.”

“You’ve become so distrustful. You weren’t like this as a child. Back then, you’d cling to my knee, naively begging me to take you to the captain’s cabin just once.”

Cardier let out a short sigh. Bringing up childhood was one of the Admiral’s oldest tactics when he was at a disadvantage.

“Why bring that up again?”

“It makes me cross. I used to think you were fundamentally a likable fellow, but now you’ve completely changed.”

“……”

“I noticed it the moment you started clinging to your wife like that. How come you became so tightly wrapped up, even hiding yourself from your own father?”

“Your face is a bit intimidating, Father.”

Cardier gave a mocking laugh, pulled out a cigar, and lit it. He didn’t inhale the smoke but instead leaned it diagonally across the ashtray—his habitual gesture when deep in thought. As Cardier stood up to open the window, the Admiral immediately stopped him.

“Leave it.”

Cardier shot a suspicious glance but quickly retracted it. Unless suicide was the goal, no one would deliberately smoke in a sealed room. And especially not smoke this pungent. Most poisons burned into smoke had either a faint or sweet scent, because if they caused discomfort, the target would simply open the window and end it.

Though he hadn’t doubted it from the start, the Admiral’s behavior was highly suspicious.

Would he really cross ships just to reminisce about childhood memories? You’d need to tell a believable story for me to believe that. Cardier slightly furrowed his brow.

“Please be honest. What’s the real reason you’re doing this…?”

Cardier couldn’t finish the sentence. The Admiral’s hand, resting on the table, drew out a familiar code they had agreed upon in childhood. The gesture of rotating a clenched fist—its meaning clear.

‘Among us.’

Cardier remained perfectly still, watching as the Admiral crossed his two fingers.

‘There’s a traitor.’

* * *

Suppression campaigns occurred periodically whenever pirates grew bold. During the first year of a new Admiral’s appointment, pirates would often become defiant, recklessly firing blades and cannonballs alike. But by now, Persen had firmly held the Admiral’s post for over twenty years. Just the sight of Montrosa’s flagship was enough to make even seasoned pirates tuck their tails and flee.

At this point, calling it a “suppression” was merely ceremonial—it was little more than a show of authority, circling once with the Admiral’s flag flying. But this campaign was different. It had a specific purpose.

Persen placed the half-burnt cigar back into his mouth.

“You’ve seen the operation orders, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Summarize them.”

Cardier twisted his lips slightly, as if utterly baffled, then answered obediently.

“The initial report came from a coastal village near the Linyac Archipelago. An anonymous informant witnessed a man from the outskirts being dragged away. He disappeared without a trace, and no body was found. Similar incidents occurred simultaneously in nearby villages. The primary targets were vagrants, solitary individuals, and children.”

“……”

“Several weeks later, a fisherman passing the Linyac Archipelago spotted a faint light and reported seeing people gathered aboard a massive ship anchored on a deserted island. However, due to thick fog and the late hour, the exact location could not be identified. Therefore, the ultimate goal of this suppression operation is,”

Cardier paused briefly, as if steadying his breath, then concluded clearly.

“To raid the base of a large-scale human trafficking operation.”

“The actual objective is rescue. Among the abducted victims, it seems there was a child from a collateral branch of the imperial family.”

“……What a reckless fool.”

Cardier scoffed immediately, yet inwardly he felt relief. Now the oddly misaligned pieces of the puzzle finally clicked into place. No matter how severe the crime, mobilizing not only the Admiral and Vice Admiral but also the finest elite commanders from the eastern region to eliminate a mere criminal group was an excessive response.

The Admiral, lost in thought for a long while, finally spoke only after the cigar had burned so short it singed his mustache.

“The problem is, only the Emperor, the Crown Prince, and those aboard this ship know the true purpose of this operation. On the surface, it’s a suppression mission, so our personnel must remain limited. Especially since we’ll be crossing borders.”

“What are you worried about?”

“The engagement two days ago.”

Cardier faintly moved his lips.

“We’re not following the usual suppression route. No matter how I think about it, the men waiting for us at that location were certain we’d come exactly that way.”

“……”

“Moreover, maintaining composure while increasing distance despite broken masts and conducting repairs… That’s far too professional to pass as ordinary pirates. At minimum, they’d have to be former navy personnel, or perhaps mercenaries from a very well-maintained merchant fleet.”

His gaze, recalling the past, gradually sharpened. He was right. Cardier had never heard or seen pirates who remained calm while their ship was half-destroyed. For pirate captains, a schooner was their lifelong livelihood, and pirates, as a rule, were anything but composed.

“So you’re saying the only remaining possibility is someone from our own navy?”

“Perhaps. Or more precisely, not the navy of Esperanda, but the navy of Tilsen.”

Cardier paused briefly, then continued the conversation using hand signals.

‘Either our intelligence has been compromised, or the navy of Tilsen is covering up the human trafficking.’

The Admiral nodded.

“Both possibilities are worth suspecting.”

The Admiral stretched his arm over the map spread across the desk and tapped his cigar twice over an island in the central part of the Linyac Archipelago, shaking off the ash.

“Through prior investigation, we’ve narrowed down the island the fisherman saw to seven locations… and after eliminating those surrounded by waters impossible to approach by ship, only this one island remains.”

The waters near the island were all marked in red. That meant they were within Tilsen’s territorial waters, not Esperanda’s. And now, they were…

“About to cross into enemy waters. From that point on, we’ll have to lower not only Montrosa’s flag but every naval banner.”

Cardier understood what the Admiral meant. They had already penetrated far too deep into enemy territory.

“Watch your back.”

The Admiral muttered, whether as a warning or concern, and stood up. As he gave Cardier’s shoulder two pats and reached for the door of the captain’s cabin, it happened.