Phantom Bottle suddenly departed during the last lull at the Fortress Bridgehead, which, for most people in the colonial fleet, was just a minor, irrelevant episode.

After all, everyone had already jointly signed the "Wild Frontier Development Decree," which, like a patent, had at least a twenty-year protection period.

Later arrivals had to respect the hard work of these pioneers. Even if they were more powerful, they could not forcibly seize the pioneers’ achievements.

Even if a pioneer accidentally died in subsequent explorations, his assets and accompanying benefits would, under the justice of the Silver Code, be inherited by a designated heir.

Nobody worried that the Sailboat Collector, who was on his own, would cause any more trouble.

A portion of the people continued to build permanent shelters, whale oil workshops, and even colonial towns, while another group had already gone out to sea to start the long-anticipated whaling business.

They aimed to fill their holds with precious whale oil by the end of the month. This would allow the logistic support personnel who arrived later to take advantage and catch the first bucket of gold in the whale oil power revolution.

Such an opportunity to make even pigs fly came once in a millennium, and anyone who missed it was a fool.

The Golden Deer was naturally among them. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

They even went a step further than the others.

Thanks to the "Westwind Express Celestial Orbital Belt No. 1 Station," located on the Northern Great Bear Archipelago of the Celestial Orbital Belt, several whaling ships and caravans had arrived at Whale Song Town on the first island early that morning. They injected vitality into this whaling town ahead of the others.

Many machines and facilities that had been out of operation for just a few days were once again started up by them.

"Launch the boats!"

Byron gave the order from the aft deck of the Golden Deer, and the sailors immediately used the block and tackle to level the large davits, lowering several small boats filled with part-time whalers into the sea.

Unlike what many ordinary people imagined, when combating giant deep-sea whales, there was actually no need for very large ships.

A small twin-masted sailboat, or even a single-masted schooner, served as a transport platform. A few rowboats were completely sufficient for the task.

However, small whaling vessels would not place the boats on deck but rather tow them with ropes at the ship’s stern.

Three small boats immediately targeted a nearby gigantic creature nearly thirty meters in length, leisurely breathing at the surface.

A group of Guardsmen from the Wings of Death rowed furiously, leaving a white wake behind each boat as they rapidly encircled the creature.

Before they even got close, Eight-Fingered Honest Man, Phantom Blade Gus, and Blood Red Whiskey Alfred were already rubbing their hands in anticipation. Each wielded a harpoon and, with a fierce stomp on the bow, leaped high into the air.

BANG!

The bow plunged down hard, creating a massive splash like thunder.

Before the droplets even fell, the three landed on the whale’s back like shooting stars. They thrust their harpoons into its body, aiming for the heart.

Before the giant whale could retaliate with a painful thrash of its tail, they had already leaped back into the sea. Retreating on the tips of the waves in the Flow State, they safely avoided the creature’s strike.

"So strong!"

"That was amazing!"

Getting up close and personal with such a giant beast always made the brave sailors’ blood boil. Seeing the three succeed with a single strike, the other crew members cheered for them aloud.

Nobody cared that what might be a life-threatening feat for an ordinary person was, for them as Third Order Transcendents, as easy as eating and drinking.

Byron knew that these few were just finding whaling novel and were simply having their fun. It wouldn’t take long before they grew bored.

As for using nothing but the most primitive harpoons for hunting rather than conjuring the "Cyclone Jet Armstrong Revolving Cannon," it wasn’t for show.

It was because the Naturalists and Prophets of the Tower Sequence had already summarized the relevant "Whaling Field Taboos" for this area:

"One, the arrival of whale pods follows certain patterns. The Chasm Trench is best for whaling from May to September each year. The greatest number of Leviathan Whales are present then, and whaling is safest during this period.

Two, whalers can only use the most primitive manpower and harpoons for manual whaling. Any ’Whaling Divine Artifact’ driven by gunpowder or whale oil will trigger unknown disastrous consequences.

These include, but are not limited to: sudden rogue waves snapping whaling ships in half; [Bizarre · Skeleton Whale Fall] initiating relentless deep-sea vengeance; or [Bizarre · Ghost Whale] singing whale songs that sweep away all living beings in an area...

Three, refrain from intercourse three days prior and purify the mind. It’s best to carry a whale bone talisman, which can make the sea regard you as one of its own and help avoid most accidental risks.

Four, never approach or touch a whale corpse that has been dead for over a day. Unless, that is, you want to take off instantly, with a flight altitude higher than everyone else... closer to Heaven.

Five, beware! Leviathan Whales are never pure white. If you encounter a gigantic pure white whale, immediately flee and do not draw its attention in any way.

That creature disguised as a ’white whale’ usually indiscriminately attacks whaling ships within a one-nautical-mile radius. Distance is your only safety line."

Every island has carved these taboos onto stone monuments. These stand in the most conspicuous place at the docks so that whaling ships arriving later can see everything clearly at first glance.

However, these taboo rules only apply to humans. The Deep Sea Clan who also come here to whale do not need to go through such trouble.