Reyndona Port.

As the largest and oldest port in Ingwig, Reyndona Port has many stories to tell. During the Radiant War, it was once occupied by Gaulunaro. When the counterattack began, it became the supply base for the Royal Fleet. In times of peace, it has become Ingwig's largest export port, where tens of thousands of strangers arrive every day.

Countless large ships are docked at the port, with sailors bustling about.

It's like a microcosm of the world here; you can see people from all corners of the globe. Some merchants take out unique local products and sell them on crowded streets, while others play special instruments, with sounds that have never been heard before echoing.

Seagulls circle above in the sky; it's completely different from Old Dunling.

In an inconspicuous corner, two new visitors have arrived, raising their heads to admire the metallic creation.

"So this is going to be our base from now on?"

The mirror on the bird-beaked mask reflected the dark shadows, and the Plague Doctor looked at the rusty large ship with some doubt.

Compared to other large ships docked here, this steamship could truly be described as bleak, while other steamships are like a radiant young girl, this one is like a homeless person just crawling out of the Lower City District.

The Plague Doctor had seen this ship before; when he took away the Holy Coffin, it was this ship that salvaged him from the sea. But now, this ship is much more dilapidated than when the Plague Doctor first laid eyes on it.

It's as if it has undergone some kind of ordeal, brutally ravaged by someone.

If it weren't for Dean Lawrence's assurance, he would even suspect that this large ship was just fished out from the seabed. The text on the hull has been worn down by time, and the deck is ragged and torn. If it sails at night, it might even be mistaken for a ghost ship.

"Indeed."

Dean Lawrence confirmed once more and then boarded the ship along with the Plague Doctor.

"Don't be fooled by its shabby exterior. In reality, this is the latest model steamship. It's just that some modifications were made so that it could approach the coast."

Smoothing his hand over the steel railing, the rust was temporarily produced using chemical agents, otherwise, this new steamship would hardly escape Ingwig's scrutiny to enter these waters.

In the Radiant War with Gaulunaro, Ingwig's naval forces were exceptionally advanced and powerful. The Royal Fleet once docked in the White Tide Strait, using the giant cannons on the ships to directly fire upon Gaulunaro's coastal defense lines, destroying their coastal defenses outright. Now, if this ship encounters a bombardment from the Royal Fleet at sea, it wouldn't last long.

Dean Lawrence might survive, thanks to the power of the Holy Grail, and if lucky, he might swim to the shore—the only question is how long he can swim.

But the things inside the ship can't swim, and Dean Lawrence has already spent too long for these things.

He is already very old, so old that even Dean Lawrence himself isn't confident about how much time he has left. However, if that matter succeeds, he will embrace a new life.

"Come on, Plague Doctor, there will be things inside that might interest you."

Seemingly promising some mysterious gift, Dean Lawrence said as he pushed open the cabin door, a dim breeze stirrs carrying a scent of blood.

"Things that interest me?"

Upon hearing this, the Plague Doctor was truly intrigued. There are few things left in this world that pique his interest. He looked at the darkness below the stairs and walked down without hesitation.

He didn't worry that Dean Lawrence would harm him, since they are akin. The Plague Doctor knew well what Dean Lawrence wanted, and of course, all of this relies on the premise that the Plague Doctor possesses power that he can be confident in.

This is a long-term cooperation; he and Dean Lawrence exist on an equal footing. A wolf would never be equal to a lamb unless the other party was also a wolf.

As he descended, the temperature gradually lowered, as if entering a cold storage area. Through the dim light, the Plague Doctor could see that it was very neat inside, completely different from the appearance outside.

Just as Dean Lawrence mentioned, the exterior is merely a disguise.

The first layer looks like a cargo hold, filled with goods, most of which are sealed tight, exuding an ominous aura. On the other end are some living supplies, judging by the scale, enough for dozens of people to last long at sea.

"It seems your assets are quite substantial."

The Plague Doctor pointed at those supplies and then glanced at Dean Lawrence.

Such a large batch of resources not only requires money but also certain channels.

Despite being a mysterious Plague Doctor with knowledge that ordinary people cannot bear, the Plague Doctor's real-life situation was rather bleak.

He harbored grand ideals, but ideals usually require money.

The prerequisite for achieving ideals is ensuring one doesn't starve to death; otherwise, it becomes delusion instead of an ideal.

However, for the Plague Doctor, getting enough to eat wasn't the problem. The true difficulty lies in him not having enough funds to sustain his research.

"This must be a considerable sum."

"I've lived a long time, having some savings isn't a problem."

The old man smiled. Over the long years, there was ample time for Dean Lawrence to prepare everything he needed.

"Your savings likely couldn't support all of this, could it? Some bounties?"

The Plague Doctor asked. When he was short on money, he would undertake some bounties, and if circumstances allowed, he might rob a bank or two. Short-term, this sufficed for his needs, but research is a long-term endeavor, and suspending research to steal money greatly delayed his scientific progress.

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