The wild northern sea breeze swept across Northveil Port that morning.
The ice-cold air bit straight to the marrow of the bone. It carried a sharp scent of sea salt mixed thickly with the stench of engine lubricant and molten iron.
Right alongside the main dock, it rested arrogantly, slicing through the ocean.
A light destroyer plated in dark steel. The muzzles of four 120mm caliber mana-cannons—two at the bow and two at the stern—were mounted firmly, defying the horizon. Complete with two magitech rocket launchers. The vessel was certainly no Dreadnought-class, yet its steel silhouette was more than enough to make any fleet think twice before approaching.
At its main mast, the halyard remained bare. No flag was raised yet. Only the hemp ropes creaked softly against the wind. Creaak... creaak...
The port was packed with a silent sea of people.
