Twenty-four hours after the escape, at Ulster Palace.

Vorgal stared at the map on the table, his eyebrows furrowed, sighing and shaking his head.

Just yesterday, the most serious gladiator defection in the history of the royal city occurred, involving more than 370 people. The most serious thing is that these people actually took advantage of the celebration day to disguise themselves as corpses and escape from the city right under the king's nose.

Just as Vulgar was still wondering how these slaves had managed to escape through so many checkpoints, the commander of the search party rushed in, looking travel-worn.

"Well? Have you found any trace of those people?" Fugal asked the other person with a hopeful look on his face.

The commander took a deep breath and shook his head in frustration: "We've searched the entire area within a 50-kilometer radius south of the capital, but we haven't found any trace of the fugitive!"

"And what about the border passes and outposts? Have they been heard from?" Vorgal then asked.

The commander's dejected expression made Fugal sigh with a headache: "Among these escapees are elderly people and children. Logically speaking, they shouldn't be able to walk very fast. How could they have disappeared so mysteriously?!"

The search party commander glanced towards the depths of the palace and lowered his voice: "The king still hasn't gotten out of bed?"

Fugal glanced at him and said in a low voice, "The king is unwell and is resting. Why are you asking this?"

"I heard that because of yesterday's final gladiatorial match, some nobles in the royal city are planning to jointly protest to the king."

"protest?"

"It seems that quite a few relatives and friends of nobles were locked in the stands yesterday and nearly lost their lives to the beasts." The commander leaned closer, his voice so low that only the two of them could hear: "I also heard that quite a few people have privately visited Lord Fergus, saying that they want to work together to clean up the treacherous officials around the king."

Fugal's body trembled, and after a moment of silence, he softly said, "I understand..."

After the visitor had left, Vladimir slowly put away the map on the table, looked at the empty council hall, and fell into deep thought.

Meanwhile, at the ancient city's dock, a uniquely styled and brand-new two-masted cargo ship quietly moored beside the pier near the sea.

Several merchants dressed in the style of the Southern Empire were haggling with dock officials as they counted the slaves boarding the ship.

From the outside, it was an ordinary slave ship.

But once you step into the cabins below deck, you'll find a completely different scene.

Hundreds of fully armed gladiators waited in the cabin, each busy with their own tasks, occasionally listening to the sounds outside.

In the captain's cabin at the stern, two women sat on either side of a table, talking in hushed tones.

"You mean, this ship is mine now?" Aisha turned the gold-embossed document over and over in her hand, and whispered the name of the new ship—Black Pearl.

Wearing a loose nun's robe, Rachel picked up a Suanshe fruit, a specialty of Ulster, and chewed it slowly. She corrected Aisha's words, saying, "'The Black Pearl' is not yours yet. The Kingdom of Muxi has only signed an agreement with you. You will serve as the captain of this ship and complete the relevant tasks assigned by the kingdom. After three years, this ship will belong to you."

"The ship will be mine in three years? How do I know you're not lying to me?"

Rachel rolled her eyes at Aisha and pointed to the document in her hand: "Official document of the Kingdom of Muxi, His Majesty's personal signature, genuine royal seal, what else do you have to worry about?"

"What have you asked me to do in these three years?"

"You've probably seen this ship before. Although it can be used as an armed vessel with some modifications, it was originally designed for trade. So, rest assured, the Kingdom of Muxi only needs you to use this ship to complete some transport missions. Of course, you can also use this ship on your own when the kingdom doesn't assign you any missions. As long as what you do doesn't conflict with the interests of the Kingdom of Muxi, we won't stop you."

Seeing Aisha lower her head and remain silent, Rachel stood up from her chair, clapped her hands, and said, "Alright, since you have no more questions, let's get ready. We'll be setting sail soon."

Rachel turned around, pushed open the door, and was about to leave when the sound behind her made her stop.

"Mr. Derek... is he alright?"

Slowly turning around, Rachel saw a face that was feigning strength.

"He has returned to Muxi City; the king has a new task for him."

"Is that so? That's good."

Rachel paused for a moment, then suddenly asked Aisha, "I have a question for you. If what appears before you is a relationship that will never have a happy ending, what would you do?"

"No results?"

A nameless flame ignited in Aisha's heterochromatic eyes, and her words carried her unique personality and flamboyance: "Whether my feelings have a future or not is not for others to decide!"

Rachel tilted her head and thought for a while. When she looked at the other person again, a strange emotion flashed in her eyes: "Aisha, sometimes, I really envy you."

"By the way, the reason this ship was designated the 'Black Pearl' was also the result of Mr. Derek's request to His Majesty the King."

After saying that, Rachel walked out of the cabin, leaving Aisha standing there in a daze.

With anchor raised and sails hoisted, the Black Pearl cut through the waves and slowly sailed away from the harbor of the Kingdom of Ulster.

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