Captain – Chapter 348 – Blood and Wine

The heavy rain continued, day and night, but everyone still needed to rest.

After finishing another lyrical piece, the violin music in the Captain’s quarters finally ceased. Following a slight rustling sound, only the low conversation between the two remained.

“Captain, if, and I’m just saying if, I had actually taken you up on your offer earlier, what would you have done?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean… didn’t you say before that you didn’t want children until everything was over? You know, doing that sort of thing is rather unpredictable—even if you don’t want it to happen, it might still occur.”

“Pfft, don’t you know about something called ‘sheaths’?”

“I know about them, but are there such things on the ship?”

“Of course there are! We’re pirates, aren’t we? Besides money and alcohol, what else do we care about but women? To prevent those guys from fooling around and causing trouble by having children, ship rules require wearing those things when doing that business. Violators need not return.”

“I’ve never seen that rule…”

“There’s still a lot you don’t know. I’ve put quite a bit of thought into this matter. To keep those guys from being stingy, the Mermaid provides ‘sheaths’ at public expense, and they’re made of lamb intestine—the best kind…”

“Alright, alright, I understand, Captain. No need to be so explicit.”

After the young man somewhat embarrassedly interrupted the young woman, the Captain’s quarters fell silent for quite a while before his puzzled question sounded again.

“By the way, Captain, is there a position on the ship responsible for keeping these things?”

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“How could that be? Wouldn’t that be a waste of wages? These things have always been managed by the ship’s doctor throughout generations. After all, when those guys get into trouble or fall ill, they all have to see the doctor anyway, so it works out perfectly.”

“You, you mean Anderson?”

At the mention of this name, the room fell silent again.

“Thankfully,” the young man sighed with some relief.

“What does it matter? Even if he knew, would he dare speak of it? Isn’t he afraid I’d tear his mouth apart?”

After her harsh words, the young woman added grudgingly: “Although having even one person know isn’t a good thing…”

The young woman seemed to recall something else, and the light sound of blankets and clothing rustling could be heard from the Captain’s quarters.

“You know what can be said and what can’t, right?”

“Yes, Captain!” This was the raven’s solemn response.

“So… what can be said?”

“Nothing can be said!”

“You’re clever.”

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This was the conclusion of the night. After another slight rustling sound, no more conversation came from the Captain’s quarters, only the sound of long, steady breathing.

Just breathing sounds, but not necessarily peaceful—it could also be understood as near-deathly silence.

In a dark and cramped room, with wooden walls corroded by seawater and time into a pitted, dilapidated state, water dripped continuously from the wooden boards overhead, like an intermittent, endless, miserable rain.

A figure sat in the corner of the room, holding a relatively clean crystal glass containing a shallow layer of crimson liquid that looked like some kind of red wine.

But that “person” had no interest in drinking the “wine,” only silently gazing at the liquid in the glass, as if even in such darkness, they could still see its vibrant color and feel the vitality it contained, hoping to use it to wash away the shadow in their heart.

After an unknown period, the door to the room opened.

The old wooden door emitted a nerve-grating, sharp sound. Black boots stepped onto the uneven wooden floor that seemed like it might collapse at any moment, the footsteps calm and steady.

“What are you drinking?”

A slightly hoarse voice broke the oppressive silence.

Tilting her head slightly back and draining the liquid in the glass, Vivian raised her hand to wipe away the remaining crimson color at the corner of her mouth. Looking at those equally blood-red eyes, she said flatly: “Blood.”

“Oh? I’ve never seen you drink it before.”

Richi walked up beside her and sat down against the wooden wall. Only then did the young woman notice the wine bottle and wine glass in his hand.

“I’m a Blood Craver. What else could I drink besides blood?”

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Vivian cast her gaze on the floor in front of her boots, her tone so indifferent as if she were stating some unforgivable sin. But after a moment of silence, she couldn’t help adding: “You haven’t seen it because the current me can survive without drinking blood.”

She didn’t know why she was explaining, or why she needed to explain.

What meaning could it have?

“I see.”

Richi understood her meaning. He set the crystal glass beside him, took out a corkscrew from somewhere, and began fiddling with the bottle of wine that had similarly appeared from an unknown source.

As a Death-Fearer, if not counterbalanced by great power, one truly exists eternally without perishing. Even without eating or drinking for hundreds of years, they would be fine—Isaac was the best example.

But… this didn’t mean that desires would vanish with immortality.

Even as a Death-Fearer, you would still feel hunger and thirst, and suffer all kinds of worldly pains. This was an original sin that no living being could escape.

Thanks to the Lady’s divine gift, the young woman could live without drinking blood, but that desire and the accompanying pain must still be tormenting her constantly.

“Why don’t you drink?”

Seemingly stymied by the wine bottle’s cork, Richi fiddled with it for quite a while without progress, so he ended up breaking off a piece of it, poured some into his glass, and asked.

“Disgusting.”

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The young woman said softly, unclear whether she was referring to the blood or to herself as a Blood Craver.

After a moment of silence, she explained again: “You don’t understand my feeling. Even with the Lady’s help, I still find it difficult to overcome that crazy thirst for blood that came from the transformation. It makes me feel disgusted and terrified.”

“After coming back to life, I’ve been constantly resisting this desire. At the beginning, I couldn’t suppress it at all, like a starving wild beast, until I completely adapted to hunger and thirst. Only then did things improve somewhat.”

Listening quietly, even though Vivian’s tone was flat as she narrated, the young man could feel the endless suffering hidden beneath and her extraordinary will that surpassed ordinary people.

“Impressive.”

Hearing his praise, the young woman shook her head expressionlessly: “There’s nothing impressive about it. It’s merely avoidance. I think even until death, I won’t be able to overcome this craving. I say that occasionally, in small amounts, when I can’t stand it anymore, I drink some without causing harm to life, but what’s the difference in reality?”

“There is certainly a difference. No need to get caught up in trivial distinctions.”

Richi took a sip of the wine that had been stored for who knows how many years, a look of intoxication spreading across his face as he advised leisurely: “Not falling into the abyss of slaughter because of your own desires is proof enough of a sincere heart. I think even those ascetics of the Holy Church might not do better than you.”

After speaking, he shook the wine bottle in his other hand and smiled: “Want some? All the wines hidden on this ship are excellent, some you can’t even find in the Great Captain’s wine cellar.”

I don’t drink wine.

That’s what she wanted to say, but seeing the smile on the young man’s face, Vivian didn’t refuse. After washing her crystal glass with the constantly dripping seawater, she handed it over.

“Just a little.”