Chapter 415 The Wooden Cabin on the Cliff

Unlike the wide, flat beaches to the south, the northern reaches of Cliff Rock Island were choked with towering, barren reefs. The sheer might of nature had forced dark brown stone pillars together, forming a landscape of sharp, jagged peaks.

Millions of years of wind and rain had eroded the bases of these pillars, riddling them with fissures. Even the widest cracks were barely the length of a palm, yet they were bottomless; standing above them, one could see nothing but a pitch-black abyss.

"Squish..."

A leather boot descended, its sole pressing into the dark green moss coating the rock. It felt like stepping on a waterlogged sponge. A sluggish squelch of displaced water accompanied the slippery sensation beneath his foot.

The environment was eternally damp. A light brush of his hand against the supporting rock face left his fingers coated in freezing droplets.

Xia Nan's expression was entirely focused. Controlling his center of gravity, he measured every step, navigating the sheer cliffs with the utmost care.

The howling ocean wind and the crash of waves shattering against the reefs roared in his ears, joined by the eerie whistle of air surging through the crevices on either side.

If he turned his head to look down, he would see the deep sea below—its light swallowed by the rock walls, leaving only an ink-black abyss against the dark brown reefs and white foam.

The slightest lapse in balance, a single accidental slip, would send him plummeting to a crushing death.

In his past life, even the most experienced extreme athletes would not have dared attempt this climb without ample preparation and expensive, specialized gear.

For an ordinary person, trying to scale this terrain was no different from committing suicide.

Forget clinging to the wall and inching forward—most people would go weak in the knees just glancing at the sheer drop. Add a single gust of that roaring sea wind, and they would be closing their eyes and waiting for the end.

Before transmigrating, Xia Nan had been a perfectly ordinary office worker with no particular courage to speak of. If a cab driver sped up even slightly, he would grab the handle. The highest mountain he had ever climbed was a dirt hill in the park next to his company. He rarely traveled, let alone ventured anywhere dangerous.

But right now, his mindset had undergone a drastic transformation compared to his past life.

His robust physical constitution, paired with Agility, Strength, and Perception that far exceeded those of a normal human, allowed him to keenly avoid the brittle sections of the cliff. He maintained his balance on narrow ledges that only allowed a person to shimmy sideways, relying on sheer muscle power to hold steady poses for long periods without slipping.

[Tidal Stabilization] granted him the ability to walk freely across almost any unstable surface, while the balance bonus from his [Bone-Bound Iron Greaves] made it incredibly difficult for him to fall.

Even in the worst-case scenario where he did slip and fall from the cliff...

Unleashing [Gravity Control] at maximum output without regard for consumption, combined with the permanent halving of fall damage from [Tidal Stabilization], would mitigate his injuries to the absolute minimum.

And as long as he had even a single breath left in him, [Tears of Spring Breath] and [Ember Echoes] could drag him back from the brink of death.

His margin for error was completely maxed out!

With his current overall capabilities, short of extremely hostile environments like plunging into magma or the vacuum of space, an ordinary seaside cliff like this simply posed little threat.

Of course, he still needed to be careful.

He took every step with unwavering steadiness, ensuring his footing was completely secure before shifting his weight forward.

Fortunately, the former residence of the Mr. Morton that Village Chief Steven had mentioned was not too far away. After about half an hour of navigating the cliffs, framed by the towering reefs and the open sky, a small wooden cabin entered Xia Nan's line of sight.

Its placement was incredibly clever; it looked almost as if it had grown naturally out of the crevice.

Tucked perfectly into the angle between two sheer vertical clefts, it allowed falling rocks from above to slide harmlessly past its sides. Three massive, protruding dark brown rocks above formed a natural canopy that blocked out the vast majority of the rain. And while it commanded a sweeping view of the ocean, its secluded position against the cliff face shielded it from nearly any prying eyes out at sea.

Clearly, a great deal of thought had gone into choosing this spot.

As for the cabin itself, despite three or four decades having passed since its construction, its exterior did not look overly dilapidated. It seemed to be frequently maintained. Only the seams where the timber joined had inevitably succumbed to rot and mildew from the damp coastal air.

Xia Nan was not in a hurry to enter the cabin to search for the [Dream Weaving Corridor] key. Right next to the cabin, on a rocky outcrop extending outward...

...sat a middle-aged man in a brownish-green hooded cloak. He rested motionless at the very tip of the cliff, gripping a curved, bone-white fishing rod. The transparent fishing line stretched down to the rolling sea below, where a tiny bobber could faintly be seen rising and falling among the waves.

Xia Nan guessed that this must be the guest from Barracuda Bay that Steven had mentioned.

His Perception silently kicked in. Even though the man had his back turned, Xia Nan could tell the cloaked figure had already noticed him.

Then again, he had not exactly been trying to hide his footsteps.

Alone together in such unfamiliar surroundings, out of basic courtesy and to show he meant no harm, Xia Nan did not approach. He merely stood at a distance.

He organized his thoughts and was just about to speak.

Suddenly, a sharp "Zip!" sliced through the air.

The bobber plunged beneath the surface. The previously slack fishing line pulled taut in an instant, bowing the rod heavily.

A bite!

Oddly enough, compared to the sudden, violent shift in the rod and line, the man's reaction was positively stingy.

He sat there like a stone statue rooted to the cliff, utterly motionless.

Both hands locked in a vice grip around the rod, yet he did not yank upward right away. Instead, he deliberately fed out two more inches of line, tricking the prey beneath the waves into thinking it had won, causing it to unconsciously bite the hook even deeper.

He carefully felt for the minute shifts in tension against his palms, waiting until the exact moment the prey swallowed the hook completely, leaving zero chance of escape.

Only then did he rise smoothly, throwing his weight into a powerful upward jerk.

The gap between an amateur and a master was perfectly showcased in this split second.

In Xia Nan's eyes, the man's posture as he pulled the rod was incredibly natural, like a motion practiced a million times. His waist and legs moved in perfect harmony: his left foot stepped half a pace back to plant firmly, while his right knee bent slightly into a lunge. The strength welling up through his entire body was as steady as a rising tide.

Reeling in the line was as instinctive as breathing, the give and take carrying a distinct, rhythmic cadence.

Xia Nan even suspected the man could sense the prey's fading stamina through the tension in his hands—deliberately slacking off when the fish thrashed, then cranking the line aggressively the moment it rested.

Standing atop the cliff, the figure was tethered to the vast ocean by a single transparent thread. As the tides swelled and he threw his weight into the rod, it looked as though he were wrestling the sea itself.

"Splash."

Deep within the waves came the crisp sound of breaking water.

A silver-white marine fish, roughly two feet long, was hauled out of the ocean.

Its slender form hung from the end of the line, its thrashing body flashing like a silver dagger chipping at the cliff face.

That is, until a strong hand suddenly darted out, swiftly and accurately clamping down on the depression behind the gills. Utilizing what seemed to be a specialized technique, the fingers hooked into the gills curled slightly. The wildly flailing silver fish instantly went rigid, as if a vital pressure point had been struck, draining it of all its strength.

Unhooking the catch, the man hefted the silver fish slightly and gave a deeply satisfied nod.

Only then did he turn to look at Xia Nan, who had been waiting patiently a short distance away.

He tipped his chin toward the cabin and held up the fish.

"Thiumnia Silver Barracuda. You might not see even one of these in a whole day at the Wave-Breaking Wharf fish market. It tastes sweeter than chicken broth simmered for twenty-four hours."

"How about it? Care for a taste?"

...

...

Colin suddenly felt that a sailor's life was not so boring after all.

The long, grueling five-day voyage had made him feel as though his very soul had been swallowed by the endless roar of the waves.

Because of that, the moment he finally stepped back onto solid ground, the emotion that washed over him was beyond words.

At the same time, here in Cliff Rock Village—a remote backwater he had never even heard of before—

Colin experienced the unprecedented feeling of being respected and feared.

When he sat at the dining table in the village chief's hall, watching a villager—who looked even older than his own father—bow slightly and politely call him "sir" while pouring his wine...

The boy from a distant village felt as though he were in a dream.

In that moment, he felt like he had truly become the successful, powerful adventurer of his dreams—a respected sailor steering the winds and riding the seas.

Fortunately, that dizzying high lasted only a second.

The very next moment, reality grounded him again.

Just like the special treatment he had received aboard the Black Gull thanks to Mr. Xia Nan, the villagers' reverence had nothing to do with his own reputation or any contribution he had made to Cliff Rock Village.

He was only enjoying their hospitality by piggybacking off the prestige of the Black Gull crew.

Strip away that title, and he was still just a greenhorn—an ordinary rookie who shook in combat and puked at the sight of corpses.

Exhaling a long breath, Colin smoothed out his turbulent emotions.

Suddenly, a thick, meaty hand reached out from the side and slapped him hard on the shoulder, nearly scaring the boy out of his skin.

"Colin lad... Eat meat! Drink wine! Good!"

A wave of hot breath, foul with the stench of alcohol and halitosis, blasted his face.

It was Guka, the half-orc from the Silver Claw Osprey squad. He had slung an arm around Colin's shoulders, hauling him close like a helpless chick, a chunk of steak clamped in his greasy, grimy fingers.

"Eat! Tasty!"

Forcing a stiff smile, Colin took the meat from the half-orc. Suppressing his disgust, he opened wide beneath the other's watchful gaze, took a massive bite, chewed, and swallowed.

Only then did the half-orc burst into boisterous laughter, spraying hot, foul spit all over Colin's face.

In truth, Guka harbored no ill intentions toward Colin. For a simple-minded half-orc like him, this deliberate display was just his way of getting closer to someone.

It was just that his abysmal communication skills often made the outcome backfire completely.

Ever since the battle with the Flying Fish Oil Barrel, Xia Nan's status on the Black Gull had skyrocketed.

No one dared offend a ruthless killer who could lop off the heads of four professional adventurers in five seconds flat.

Even attempts to curry favor were stymied; the sheer butchery of that battlefield made everyone too terrified to approach him.

As a result, the only two people aboard the Black Gull with any ties to Xia Nan—Colin and Alton—had become hot commodities.

Alton, being Xia Nan's legitimate party member, had found himself swarmed by fawning crewmen by the very afternoon the battle ended.

Colin, though his connection to Xia Nan seemed looser, was still afforded heavy preferential treatment aboard the ship.

When Xia Nan first boarded, the three members of the Silver Claw Osprey squad had openly displayed their hostility—and none more blatantly than the half-orc, Guka.

Now, naturally, it was this half-blood mongrel who was panicking the most.

Seeing Alton currently dancing and strumming his Lute, Guka did not dare interrupt.

Instead, he had decided to cozy up to Colin.

Yet for some reason, even after giving away his best cut of meat, this scrawny, cowardly human whelp still looked like he was only pretending to be happy.

'Damn it, he isn't going to badmouth me to the black-haired guy later, is he?' Guka thought.

Guka did not think of himself as malicious, nor was he stupid enough to believe that killing Colin would solve the problem.

He just wanted to win Colin over as best he could, hoping the boy would put in a good word with Xia Nan and save his neck.

Now, seeing that the food strategy seemed to be a bust...

Based on the half-orc's primitive, beast-like values hailing from the steppe tribes, there was only one other way to win another male's favor.

His crude, muddy gaze swept over the villagers serving the table, finding no suitable targets.

Guka promptly stood up. Keeping one arm clamped around Colin's shoulders—the height difference nearly lifting the boy off the ground—he let out an excited guttural grunt.

"Colin lad... Guka take you... eat good!"

Catching sight of the pair leaving the building, Captain Gregory of the Black Gull hesitated. He half-rose from his seat, paused for a moment, and eventually sat back down.

Meanwhile, Nick, the leader of the Silver Claw Osprey squad, was upstairs discussing something with Chief Steven, completely oblivious to what was happening below.

The duo walked straight out into the street without anyone stopping them.

Five days of agonizing boredom at sea had left the half-orc's pent-up bestial urges on the verge of erupting.

Earlier, when the chief had been introducing Cliff Rock Village after they made land, Guka had already secretly locked onto a target:

—A slender human female whose skin was relatively smooth for a fisherwoman.

Guka clearly remembered spotting her peeking at them from behind a half-open door as they walked past.

Although, from his beast-like perspective, the plumper females boasted better childbearing hips, his interactions with humans told him they seemed to prefer the slender ones.

Colin had no idea why Guka was dragging him outside.

That steel-hard arm had him trapped in an unbreakable vise.

Held hostage in the half-orc's embrace, he was hauled all the way to the edge of the village, stopping in front of a crude stone house.

For some reason, Colin suddenly felt the arm holding him lock up, then instantly go slack.

Colin tumbled into the dirt.

Wincing in pain, he opened his mouth to complain.

Suddenly, an incredibly thick stench of blood rushed into his nostrils with his next breath.

"Crunch..."

The door was shut tight, but from inside came a grotesque noise—the sound of tearing flesh and grinding teeth.

Guka stood absolutely still, frozen to the spot.

But from his sprawl on the ground, Colin could see the hairs on the back of the half-orc's neck standing on end, and the trembling, bulging muscles in his arms.

"BOOM!!!"