Actually, the most direct and effective way at this time is to find Aiven himself and ask clearly. However, in his hesitance, Gel was also afraid of causing an unnecessary incident.
It wouldn't matter to get hurt once more, but as the captain of this battleship, it wasn't appropriate to drag an entirely unrelated young man into his personal emotions.
In fact, if there is even a one in ten thousand chance that he is blessed by the Goddess and really finds the son of his friend Ferman, he still hasn't figured out how he should face him.
Just as well, due to his prior orders, the victors were cleaning the deck, so there shouldn't be anyone in the room.
Step... step... step...
Boatswain Chris found it strange; even though he seemed very anxious in the captain's cabin, he was walking much slower than usual, without his usual vigorous demeanor.
But no matter how slow he walked, there would still be a time when he reached his destination.
The boatswain didn't ask much, silently took out a spare key and opened Aiven's door. As the manager of the sailors, he had this permission.
After letting Gel in alone, the well-informed Chris about the way of subordinates didn't linger, closed the door for him and directly turned away, clearly not wanting to pry into the secrets of his superior.
As one of the few candidate officers on the Silver Wings, Aiven's living conditions were still decent. At least he had a wooden bed and a desk, already much better than the hammocks of ordinary sailors.
Gel walked into the room and immediately saw Aiven's unarranged luggage on the wooden bed.
He swiftly moved forward and carefully untied the bundle.
There was nothing valuable inside, just the typical sparse belongings of many young sailors from humble backgrounds (actually, Aiven carried valuable things on him, such as the large gold note handed to him by Captain Joseph after dealing with the Blood Anchor).
A few changes of clothes, several bottles of various potions, scattered loose change, and nothing that could prove his identity, leaving Gel slightly disappointed.
"Do I really have to go ask in person?" Gel hesitated, instinctively resisting a choice that might shatter all hope once more.
Fortunately, the next discovery saved him from this quandary. At the very bottom of the luggage, in a hidden inner pocket, he found a small animal hide pouch tied with a well-tanned leather cord.
The feel of some corners and the metallic sound within collisions gave him an inkling of what was inside. With trembling hands, he opened the small pouch and poured out its contents.
A "Seal Ring" symbolizing noble authority inheritance, a brass wax seal, a noble family crest — in the glow of the sunset through the porthole, he could clearly see the engraved emblem, a giant sea serpent surrounded by waves, with dorsal fins growing behind.
A badge that even heraldists might struggle to recognize quickly hit his heart like a bolt of lightning!
"Not dead, not dead, really not dead...!"
Holding these items in both hands, Gel muttered with reddened eyes.
"Drip drip..."
Tears fell, splashing onto his palm. At some point, this man, as strong and reliable as granite, had been reduced to sobbing uncontrollably.
"Thank the Goddess! Ferman, your son is still alive—!"
...
"Hoo! Finally done!" Wringing out the rag in his hand, Aiven let out a long breath. He hadn't expected his first job upon boarding the warship to be cleaning the deck, practically a dark history.
"Sorry! Boss, sorry for making you suffer with me." Beside him, Gary had also finished his share of the work and sheepishly came over to apologize to Aiven.
"Just praised you for having some manliness, and now you're being so timid again. On this ship, we are one; what's the difference between you and me? Go back and rest! Do you want me to go back with you again?"
Aiven glared at Gary, jokingly scolding him.
"Heh heh heh, no need, no need. Quite a few people already recognized me as the boss while I carried them back. As for the disobedient ones, just give them another beating." Gary rubbed his hands, indicating he could handle it.
Watching Gary's gradually awakening violent tendencies, Aiven found it both amusing and exasperating. Would he end up turning this guy into a violent maniac?
He could only mourn for the brothers sharing a dorm with him; Aiven expressed that there was nothing more he could do.
The boatswain said that Silver Wings had just returned to port today, and the crew all went ashore to have fun, so the welcome banquet would probably wait until tomorrow.
The two could only each return to their cabins, and as he gazed at the deepening night, Aiven thought he'd have to find a way to deal with dinner. He also wondered how the ship's meals would be.
Lost in all these idle thoughts, Aiven had just reached his cabin door when his face suddenly changed; the lock on his door was open, and someone had entered his room!
Having just boarded the vessel today, he was completely in the dark about ship affairs. Was it a thief or someone from the crew? Could it be an old soldier seeking revenge?
Unable to discern friend from foe, Aiven slowly drew the longsword at his waist and gently pushed the door open.
Then... he closed the door again.
"Waaah..."
"What the heck, why is there a grown man in my room sobbing? And why does he look kind of familiar? Other than Gary, are there any other people I know on this ship?"
He stepped back two paces and looked again at the brass nameplate on the door. With data visualization skills, Aiven was a bona fide 'find-the-differences' expert and would never make such a low-level mistake as misidentifying a door.
Scratching his chin in thought, he was sure there wasn't anything valuable in his luggage. The only somewhat valuable items, a family crest and seal, were the last remnants of the Galliot family from his fleeing path and now only a memory. There was no more territory for them to function, nothing more than scrap metal to others.
Confident that there was probably no danger, Aiven sheathed his longsword, reopened the door, and walked inside.
Inside the room, it was still the same man.
But the scene was completely different. He sat upright on his bed, looking dignified, as if this wasn't a bedroom but a command room in a battlefield.
Aiven almost doubted his eyes. Was the scene just now where he saw him crying like a storm a mere illusion?
Most of the crew on the ship Aiven hadn't seen before, but he recognized the school officer uniform the man was wearing. He hadn't noticed before, but now he couldn't pretend not to see; no matter what, he couldn't violate basic military discipline.
Aiven immediately stood at attention and saluted, "Hello, officer!"
Subsequently, he felt the officer scrutinize him from head to toe for quite a while. Just when Aiven felt he had goosebumps all over, the officer slowly spoke:
"Aiven Galliot?"
"Uh... yes." Although the officer's tone seemed a bit strange and the man himself a bit odd, considering that he would be working under him from now on, Aiven had no choice but to yield.
Despite the unfamiliar man confirming his name, Aiven didn't find it unusual. Most associated with this name were no longer in this world; the only likely ties were enemies far in Ilya, and their reach wasn't this long.