The ancients said there are three sea professions: trade, fishing, and piracy. In the world where a volunteer from the ninth place was sent, they think the same.
To sail to the far end of the sea to Iron Cape? To that very grand forge where the god-defying southern troops receive the best weapons and equipment in the world? If it’s not the heart of the demons’ empire, then at least their liver—and such organs are supposed to be carefully protected, except on great holidays, making exceptions for abundant drinking.
No one has dared venture into those waters for a hundred years. To attack the dark fortress with two ships, having only one experienced captain—who became famous only because he smashed his vessel on the cursed shore of the Intermountain. And he’s also obsessed with suicidal wishes: he dreams of dying heroically, as is customary for the men of his kind. Will there be madmen who can be persuaded to sign on with such a psycho?
Sure they will—if it promises a share of the loot. They’ll go to hell with the captain—let alone with a captain who’s a failure. And you, sir guard, think how to carry off that very loot from there… and your own head as well.