Reborn with the Conquest System-Chapter 52: Sal’Margan

The next day

"Ow! What the..."

Magnus woke up from a sudden hit on the head, his eyes looking around for the attacker.

Only to be struck in the nose by a piece of hail the size of his finger.

’Oh come on! I get rain but why the hell is there hail over an ocean!?’

He covered his head with his arms and crouched down to reduce the area the hail could hit him. By now the turtle had somewhat partially submerged to not get hit by the hail, even it found the hail painful to endure.

After enduring a few hours of relentless hail, Magnus cursed under his breath as the skies finally cleared.

"That took... A bit."

[You’re lucky to be alive, dipshit.]

’I know, so let me at least joke about it. If I am stuck with just a floating window talking to me I would go insane. Hell, anyone would.’

Seeing the system not respond, he smiled.

’Cat got your tongue, eh?’

[If I start listing everything you did wrong so far, I might need a book or two.]

’Love you too.’

[EWWWWW.]

A few hours later, Magnus had gathered his courage and looked at his still dislocated leg. Trying his hardest not to scream, he set back the joints one after another.

After resetting the joint, he drifted off to sleep once more, the pains shooting through his body having gradually subdued over the last few days.

’A few more days of rest... I’ll be fine...’

With such thoughts, he drifted off to sleep.

Hours passed, and a thick blanket of fog enveloped the entire sea, reducing the visibility to abysmal levels.

At one point, a shadow began to loom in the fog above Magnus. The turtle seemingly sensed something, shaking its body as it was about to dive down.

Yet Magnus’s command lingered in its head, causing it to hesitate with diving down. The shadow crept closer as it was still undecided, a wooden hull covered by barnacles becoming visible.

A whistling sound.

A harpoon shot into the water near the turtle, startling it. It dove into the water, and Magnus jolted awake as water flooded his lungs.

’Wha—’

He surfaced, his eyes narrowing as he saw a wooden hull barely an arm’s length away.

Cough cough!

He couldn’t hold it anymore, the water in his lungs being expelled. Hurried shouting followed from the ship above—its crew now aware they’d found a human.

’Wait, the flowstone?!?’

He scanned the surface of the seawater, not seeing the flowstone anywhere.

’Wait, it’s a stone!’

Trying to submerge his head into the water, the darkness underneath obscured his vision too much to see anything.

’Maybe the turtle has it!?’

Yet he could only make out a faint presence where the turtle had been, as if obscured by something.

With his eyes bloodshot, he gazed hatefully at the ship in front of him, contemplating sinking it then and there.

[...]

’...’

Magnus and the system shared a quiet moment together, their silence interrupted by the sounds of a ladder being thrown overboard. Looking at the ladder in front of him, a depressed Magnus began climbing.

On the sides, cannon port after can non port lined the ship, the reek of gunpowder overwhelming the scent of the sea.

’... I hate this.’

[I hate you too.]

Ignoring the system window, he hauled himself over the ship’s railing, landing on the deck with a surprising amount of grace.

Now on the deck of the battered galleon, its floor streaked with salt. The sails were faded but functional, and the air smelled of wet rope, oil, and steel.

On the warship’s deck, men in mismatched uniforms had lined up, eyeing him warily with their hands resting on their weapons.

’Pirates. Maybe privaters. Not a good bunch for sure.’

"Ain’t gonna steal yer ship, but I’m not swimming." Imitating how pirates usually sounded, he gauged their reactions.

A few of them chuckled, one snorted. The rest expressionless. One of them stepped forward, wearing a red coat and a purple hat with a feather on it.

’The only half decent dressed person.’

"Look what the sea washed up."

"A human." He replied.

The pirate shook his head, visibly on edge. "Why would a human be this deep into the Sal’Margan. And you don’t seem too... Human"

"If I told you I stepped on a trap in a dungeon and got teleported into the sky, would you buy it? Also what do you mean not human?"

"That sounds like bullshit, inhuman." The man replied, his eyes narrowing.

"Could’ve just said no, and you didn’t need to haul me up If you thought I was something evil?" Magnus shrugged his shoulders.

"Thought it was a human, might sell for some coin. Sea monsters might sell for more, even if dead." The man chuckled.

’Ah... Slavers.’

"How about instead of that, I smash this entire ship into bits so you all end up in Davy Jones Stinkhole, eh?"

The sound of weapons being unseathed echoed, the 40 odd pirates having readied swords and pistols.

In response to that, Magnus’s hand was placed up the wooden railing as he was planning on destroying the ship from outside.

The heated stand off continued, tense seconds turning into minutes.

"Stop!" A voice swept through the deck, the air itself heating up. The sea of people parted, not out of fear —but reverence.

A red cloak hung loosely over her shoulders, but every step she took carried a weight that made the deck quieter. Crimson tattoos coiled along her skin, the same shade as her hair—though the tips shimmered with gold. Beneath her hood, eyes of gleaming gold stared out from pitch-black sclera, fixing on Magnus.

His skin tingled upon locking eyes with her.

’She has more mana than me.’

"He’s human, the mana doesn’t lie. Though I don’t know why he’s naked, hairless, and covered in those markings in the middle of the sea."

"I got teleported by a dungeon trap. Then I got attacked by an oversized octopus. As for my hair and being naked, I ate a fireball to the face. Does that answer your questions?"

She covered her face with her hand, sighing in annoyance.

"Get him some clothes, I’m willing to hear you out at least."

A short while later and he found himself sitting opposite of her. Two barrels had been turned into makeshift chairs, the rest of the crew staring at them.

"Name?" She asked, seemingly sizing him up.

"Magnus."

"Where are you from?" She continued.

"Shouldn’t you introduce yourself as well?" He crossed his arms, staring at her.

"No." She spoke, crossing her arms as well.

A staring contest. The crew held their breaths, afraid sparks might fly.

"Wow, at least be nicer to your guest. Fine, I’m from Azel."

Silence.

"What a catch." She exhaled, extending her hand towards him with a smile.

Magnus looked towards the outstretched hand, his expression souring.

"I’m not taking anyone’s hand after being fucked over like 15 times for trusting people. If you wanna be friends, that’s fine. If you wanna make use of me, I can tolerate that to an extent. BUT— are we gonna fight or not?"

The sounds of weapons being draw echoed as dozens of pistols were aimed at him. The captain’s smile froze on her face.