Twenty years before the Great Wall Campaign, the Beima Principality was still a kingdom.
The late King Philip V heeded his prime minister's advice and modeled after the Pedan Kingdom's system, establishing national academies in the central capital and eastern coast. This aimed to prevent talented individuals from stagnating in noble territories, weakening all lords' control while absorbing fresh blood for royal service. The "Enlightenment Act" was enacted, with heavy funding from the national treasury to support education.
Anyone with a secondary education qualification who could pass the academy entrance exams would benefit from this policy.
Rural students received boarding fee waivers and tuition exemptions, while outstanding students earned substantial scholarships. Top performers could study almost for free—even earning money—with only meal expenses to cover.
Graduates with real skills were guaranteed government positions, entering court service directly for rapid advancement.
For a time, Beima Kingdom became a paradise for scholars, producing increasing numbers of talented individuals. Academies flourished across the eastern coast during this golden age free of disasters, with national strength reaching unprecedented heights.
Until Holy Arlan Calendar 1274, when the Great Wall defenses collapsed. Arlan's celestial troops invaded, Philip V committed suicide in his isolated city, and his legitimate successor Philip VI was lured into exile and assassinated.
In subsequent years, all academies except the Royal Beima Arcane Academy in the capital were converted into comprador institutions by the puppet king and sold cheaply as shares to major nobles.
Though faculty and facilities remained, the Enlightenment Act vanished.
This gave Micah his opportunity.
Earning dozens of gold dragons per job, Micah was undoubtedly among the wealthiest.
In a luxury suite on the tenth floor of a high-end hotel within Linden City's inner ring...
Drawing the curtains revealed a breathtaking azure horizon where sea met sky at the harbor, alongside the spectacular sight of nearly a thousand docked ships. Seagulls circled overhead while orderly streets bustled below.
The suite featured rose-scented aromatic smoke, polished hardwood floors with exquisite grain, and a pale violet glowstone chandelier. Spacious interiors held expensive wood furniture—tea tables and chaise lounges—with decorative wall panels and floral-patterned wallpaper. A small pool graced the balcony.
On the bed, shirtless Micah watched three female university students splashing in the pool, his gaze eventually drifting as thoughts wandered elsewhere after their first round.
These students came from across Beima—two locals and one beast-eared Yisu girl with a tail, otherwise human-looking. This lightly animal-featured race supposedly descended from ancestors who coveted all creatures' powers, resulting in a curse (though they lived normally and were considered attractive).
All three were youthful beauties with firm skin, their thin clothes now clinging suggestively from pool water.
Having never visited such luxury—a tenth-floor suite with garden-view balcony and private pool—they couldn't fathom the nightly rate, assuming only visiting nobles or clergy could afford it.
One girl beckoned Micah, hoping to secure this generous patron long-term.
They'd never guess he was a ruthless pirate.
Responding to their teasing, Micah wordlessly approached the pool for round two.
The bloody sunset reminded him of boarding combat—sneaking into a ship's medicine storage, repeatedly hacking a man's neck with an axe until death, those frozen horrified eyes brimming with regret and resentment.
Micah jolted awake from the nightmare, startling the Yisu girl who drowsily rubbed her eyes.
"You can stay until 10 AM tomorrow."
Dressing hastily, Micah noted he'd already paid double the standard scholarship rate at noon—his habit to avoid anxious clients fearing exploitation.
"How long will you stay in Linden City?" the Yisu girl asked. This generous man chose premium venues, and while rugged, was decent-looking without perverse tastes—a rare good client.
"Maybe two weeks. We'll meet again if fate allows."
Micah avoided repeat encounters except with exceptional partners.
Dressed, he entered the hallway.
Even public areas were first-class, with premium glowstone lamps and landscape paintings.
Descending stairs toward the lobby, Micah remembered needing new crew—but recruiting diseased men would be disastrous.
Spotting armed soldiers (not local garrison) in the lobby, Micah's instincts flared—his wanted poster circulated widely. He immediately retreated upstairs, leapt from a second-floor window.
Pedestrians gasped as he landed awkwardly from the five-meter drop. Less agile than crewmates, Micah sprained his ankle but had no time for treatment. Limping fast, he hailed a chocobo-drawn cab toward the city gates.
"Standard rooms cost four silver daily, upgradable for another four. We also offer fifteen-silver suites with gardens and pools—"
The clerk's explanation was cut off by a chainmail-clad soldier:
"Fifteen silver? Robbery! Even wealthy Arlan's best hotels cost that!"
"No trouble," Cloud snapped. The recommended hotel's ten-gold-dragon fee was manageable—redeeming his knighthood and bribing officials would cost eight hundred. Until then, austerity ruled.
"Five standard rooms. We'll squeeze in—some can sleep on floors."
Though funds allowed individual rooms for weeks, this wasn't the time for extravagance. That crew remained their best option—merchant ship jobs would never earn enough.
Cloud had written Arlan contacts for help, but doubted former allies would assist a disgraced man.