Naval Gacha System: It's Time To Monopolize The Seven Seas!

The Colonial Dominion of Terra.

Terra was a very distinct island with rich diversity and natural resources. It was the first island colonized by humanity, making it incredibly established in the New World.

It brimmed with port towns and trading ships facilitating inter-seas trade, shrouding the island with never-ending commerce. Because of this trade, the Colonial Dominion of Terra was amongst the richest colonies in the Ferus Sea.

It was a place of opportunity for humanity\'s explorers and dreamers.

In simpler terms, it\'s frontier.

However, on the island of Terra, there was a spectacularly large bay where the enormous city of commerce, Gaea, dwelled.

Gaea was a massive city containing a population of over a hundred thousand humans. It was riddled with old medieval brick houses, paved roads, thin alleyways, and various squares.

There was also its port where dozens of trading ships found themselves docked. Most of them planned to sail across the Ferus Sea to exploit its riches despite the many treacherous dangers it posed.

It was quite an intriguing sight, presenting humanity\'s ingenuity and desire for expansion.

But unfortunately, it was far from the dreamiest city in the Ferus Sea. It was also a city shrouded with crime, corruption, piracy, and slavery.

Slavery was legal throughout the nations of humanity. Most of them came from captured beastfolks, but some were humans with no mana capacity, making them sub-humans in the eyes of others.

It was somewhat saddening, but nevertheless, it was the truth.

Perhaps things will change for the better in the far future.

*Cough!* *Cough!* *Cough!*

In some random alleyway within Gaea, the space distorted itself as an unknown figure emerged from it. Using a spatial-repositioning spell, the unknown figure managed to arrive at the Colonial Dominion of Terra without sailing for days on the high seas.

But as he stepped into the paved alleyway, he began coughing blood causing him to lose balance and lean on some nearby stone wall. The figure wore a cloak, but when observed carefully, he was a familiar one.

He was none other than the Magus of Pinguis Arca who managed to escape through teleportation after getting hit by a molten metal originating from a bullet of an anti-material rifle.

His leg mostly took the hit, but his circumstances were far from good. The injury he got was far from something that he could heal through a mere spell.

The molten metal of the bullet practically lodged itself into his bones. A recovery spell wouldn\'t be enough to heal it, and the more time it spent inside his head. The closer he would be to inevitable death.

So, with this in mind, the Magus was prompted to seek help from the Magus Tower. As a member of it, he should have some privileges to be healed by fellow magi. Otherwise, he would die from it.

\'Tsk! I had to use several spatial-repositioning spells through multiple islands to get here.\' The Magus quietly thought to himself while gritting his teeth. This was the first time he got an unrecoverable injury, and it was humiliating.

An esteemed Magus like him limping like a damn dog was something that didn\'t do well inside his mind. So, he hated the ones that brought this to him. The bastards that shot him the annoying bullet.

\'At any rate, I need to be fast. Let\'s think of revenge after I recover.\' He thought before walking away from the alleyway. He was limping the entire way and could barely maintain his balance, mortifying for someone of his stature.

As he walked through the paved street leading to the Magus Tower, the Magus felt everybody\'s eyes pointed at him. He merely clenched his fist and continued limping onward.

Though… One might question. Why couldn\'t he simply teleport into the Magus Tower? The answer was simple. Teleporting through the Magus Tower requires a lot of mana. After going through several islands, he practically had no mana left after arriving in Terra.

He looked forward and saw that he was a distance from the Magus Tower. It shouldn\'t take long before he reaches it.

But before the Magus could go further, a couple of Magi stopped him in his tracks. They wore long cloaks and the usual wizard hats. The Magus furrowed his eyebrows as the Magi began speaking.

"Good Sir, what are you heading to the Magus Tower for?" One of them questioned him with a scrutinizing gaze. The Magus of Pinguis Arca raised an eyebrow as though he heard something stupid.

However, he sighed after some thought and pointed at his injured leg. The Magi followed his fingers and saw the severely injured leg. They looked at him in doubt since a recovery spell would have fixed it.

"Just don\'t bother me. I would have used a recovery spell if it was possible." The Magus sighed and continued limping through the paved street. He walked through the group of Magi as they watched him with interest.

It didn\'t take long before the Magus arrived at the Magus Tower. As he stepped into its fairly large hallway, the receptionist noticed him and immediately called out.

"Sir Greywald! Took you long to arrive. We have been waiting for you for a couple of weeks." The receptionist asked while the Magus or Greywald stood before the wooden desk.

"There was a situation that caused some delay. I\'m injured with a molten metal lodged in my bones. I need some medical attention." Greywald responded as the receptionist looked at him in surprise.

She looked at Greywald\'s leg, which was obviously injured and infected. She was a bit dumbfounded as it was rare for a Magus to be injured. And if they do, they could easily use a recovery spell to regrow a missing part of their body.

Obviously, however. No spells were too overpowered in the realms of magicraft. A recovery spell could only regrow lost chunks of flesh, but that doesn\'t mean they expel anything stuck inside one\'s body.

Foolishly using a recovery spell to one\'s body without taking out the foreign object would result in an infection, bringing about death.

"Understood, I\'ll call for available Magus to help you, Sir Greywald. It shouldn\'t take long before they arrive." The receptionist said to Greywald and took out a runic communicator.

Greywald was thankful and patiently waited for help to start healing his leg. But before he could entertain his thoughts, a rough and old voice sounded to his ears.

"Sir Greywald, it\'s been a while." He raised an eyebrow and turned his gaze towards where the voice came from. He then saw an old figure standing in the hallway. He was a familiar old man, or perhaps, an old war master.

It was none other than Theodore, the War Master of Everlasting Dawn.