Heretical Fishing

Book 4: Chapter 55: Possibilities and Potential

Had I… was I hallucinating? That certainly looked like Ellis. There were houses behind him. They were crude, sure, but they were definitely houses. Old, too, based on their weathered surfaces. To their sides, crops grew. I didn’t recognise them.

“Ellis?” Barry yelled, confirming that if it was a mirage, it was one we were all seeing. Recovering faster than I did, he added, “Hop on!”

“Oh, no,” the former archivist replied, waving a dismissive hand. “I will return soon, but I appreciate the offer!”

My head tracked him as we sailed on by, the fish not using the island’s shallows or surrounding reefs to escape. With my eyes pinned to Ellis, I didn’t miss the object he raised to his mouth. Its tip glowed red as he took a hit. Okay, where the fuck does everyone keep getting cigarettes?

As fast as we’d arrived in his waters, we were zooming away, the fish caring little for our exchange of pleasantries. A blur of brown shot from the ship, and Cinnamon unleashed a soft jab at his stomach.

It was a love-tap, really. The bunny’s equivalent of a kiss goodbye. And Ellis seized it in one hand. He laughed good-naturedly as he flicked Cinnamon back toward us. Barry caught her against his sturdy chest, and she looked as confused as I felt.

“It was nice seeing you too, Cinnamon!” Ellis yelled. “And cool boat! It looks wonderful, Paul!”

“His name is Bob!” the young man replied, not at all questioning how the former archivist had known he’d made it.

“I say!” He had to cup his hands to his mouth with the distance now between us. “What an excellent name, befitting an excellent ship! Take care now!”

Before anyone could answer my question, a sickening screech tore into the world. Panic bloomed in my chest. And the tendrils of chi connected to my core immediately identified the source of the noise.

Two arms of solid metal attached reel to rod. Despite my reinforcement, one of them had been almost sheered through, the System-made alloy getting twisted and warped by the creature’s power. I encased the entire thing with thick vines of essence, sparing only a second to chastise myself for letting it happen. Then, I locked in, casting all else aside.

It was even more difficult than I thought it would be. The winch’s strength had allowed me to segregate my will, directing each section toward different ends, but the damage reduced that advantage. If another distraction like Ellis came along now, either my rod, the line, or the hook would snap—whichever I wasn’t reinforcing at any given moment.

An unknown amount of time later, with my brain so consumed I didn’t dare glance up at the moon to judge the hour, my legs began to wobble. I paused mid-lift of the winch. Holding it steady, I adjusted my posture, hoping and praying it would relieve some of the strain. But it wasn’t the shifting of my body that came to my rescue—it was the shifting of others.

Borks squeezed in beneath me, black tendrils of his chi winding over mine and reinforcing it. Barry arrived at my back, grabbed my waist, said “nope,” then grasped my upper-chest instead. Before I could form words to tease him for that emasculating move, Trent braced my shoulders. Some of their essence flowed into me, Trent’s burning like a wildfire, Barry’s reaching for the heavens like a prideful mountain.

Cinnamon leaped up onto the railing beside me. She launched into a motivational string of peeps, flexes, and kicks of immaculate form.

“We’re all relying on you, Fischer,” Barry added. The sentence was laden with his leadership skill, and it set my own to thrumming. Everyone was relying on me. That might seem like a ridiculous statement given I was just fishing, but it was more than that. They had straight up thrown their own catches overboard, all to not impede this battle. Liquid motivation seemed to pump through my veins.

I would not let them down.

With my spirit and body reinforced by the actions of my friends, I pulled the winch all the way up, then lowered it again, winding in line and strengthening the parts required.

I’d love to say that the fish had a bunch of different strategies up its sleeve. That the creature was as intelligent as it was strong, and the rest of our war involved a clashing of wits. But that would have been a lie. The closest it came to trying a new tactic was when it turned and swam toward the boat—and all that accomplished was giving me a bit of a break.

I’d needed it, too. Despite ‘swim away’ being the fish’s only move, I had to remain vigilant in every moment, relying on the help of my friends. The constant readjustment of chi was incredibly taxing, just as it had been with the lightning-infused thresher.

Slowly, the creature on the end of my line grew lethargic, its frenetic kicks turning into ponderous sweeps. Rather than its muscles fighting me each time I lifted the rod, its weight became the dominant force that sought to deny my goal.

Finally able to stop worrying something would snap, my mind ran through what type of creature it could be. I’d made a few assumptions, and I was confident enough in their veracity to let them inform my opinion.

First, it was a predator that hunted squid. The fact it always arrived after them added anecdotal proof to the theory. Next, it definitely wasn’t a spirit beast, nor did I think it had any chi at its disposal. If it did, it could’ve escaped when I was distracted by a certain cigarette-puffing archivist. Finally, based on the kicks of its tail being so frequent that they would vibrate the rod right out of a weaker cultivator’s hands, I assumed it to be a long, pelagic fish—much like the threadfin salmon Maria had caught.

But the weight of it now made me second-guess its species. All the chi not enhancing the winch flooded my arms and core-muscles each time I lifted, reminding me of how it felt to heave a stingray up from the sandy floor. Yet it couldn’t be that, either—something flat didn’t propel itself forward with side-to-side kicks of its tail.

The only reasonable option—which, the more I thought about it, seemed anything but reasonable—was that it was a mix of both. Of all the creatures I’d seen on earth, not a single fish that fit the bill. Despite the mental fatigue, my mind raced with possibilities, combining the body parts of different animals that matched what I was feeling.

The flat part couldn’t be on the front like a shovelnose shark, right? That would create too much drag. Pelagic species were intentionally aerodynamic—or hydrodynamic, if that’s even a word. Their bodies were missile-shaped to minimise resistance.

I pictured the retractable fins of a tuna, which made some Cthulian nightmares spring to mind, and as I imagined a long and toothy fish with a deployable parachute of membrane, something moved in the water before the stern.

I leaned forward, the image of a horror from the depths lingering as I scanned the waves, seeking my foe, but couldn’t pinpoint its location. “Did anyone see that?”

Everyone responded in the negative, their voices close to either side of me as they crowded the railing. Borks and Cinnamon, the former’s head extending past the stern, the latter straddling the back of his neck like he was a bull, both jolted.

“Fischer!” Barry hissed. “Use—” He swallowed, his throat tight. “Use your chi…”

I’d resolved to not scan my surroundings, so it took a moment to override that intention and send hair-thin strands of will down into the water. What I found there made the air in my lungs turn to stone.

The creature was beneath us. Just meters below the surface. And when I felt the quality of the essence it held, the word divine appeared. Its divinity was muted, however, its full-potential sealed away by invisible chains. I’d thought the world’s chi was pure, but this thing’s power put it to shame, so clear and bright and ancient that it dulled my senses.

I wouldn’t glean any more information with my awareness, so I focused instead on its physical form. I was too blinded by the essence to see it, so I started filling in the blanks. Had… had I been correct in thinking it was an eldritch horror?

With that thought swirling around my mind, the fish twisted in the water, and I finally saw the rest of it. Reflecting the moon’s light, a silvery streak ten times longer than me appeared. Forget how long I was—it was as long as Bob!

That knowledge was the last thing I needed to proceed. I let go of the chi strengthening my rod, dismissed the thick roots that connected me to the deck, and compressed all of my will into a single, illuminating tentacle. With prehensile dexterity, I grabbed the fish by the tail and hauled it from the water. Even before it came to a stop, I sent Cinnamon a mental command. She didn’t need to be told twice.

With a focused jab of her forepaw, a condensed bubble of finger-thin chi shot out, hitting its head behind one eye and travelling out the other side. Dispatching it swiftly was the kindest possibility; there would be no successful release of this creature after the fight it had given.

As its soul departed, the divine essence coming from it increased, becoming noticeable even to my latent senses. It must have been suppressing it somehow while alive. The others felt the change too, judging by the way their backs stiffened.

All were silent as we stared up at the whale-sized fish. I had been completely wrong in my earlier assessment. It was a pelagic species after all, and it did resemble something from Earth, just way, way bigger.

A body as thick as an oak’s mighty trunk. Tail-fins the same shape as the moon above. Scales covering its top that were as black as midnight, only those on its stomach a reflective silver. And, finally, the apparent source of the ancient essence: a flattened bill extended from the front of its head, bearing sword-like edges that could slice through water and creatures alike.

Having inspected it, I stopped holding the System at bay. A golden aura shone from the lettering, further signifying its rarity, and I read the description with bated breath.

Ancient Monarch Swordfish of the Bluefathom Ocean

Monarch

This creature, once the pinnacle of all fish hunted for sport in the Bluefathom Ocean, outlived any other. It has ruled for thousands of years, reigning long enough to become an ancient monarch. Partaking of this creature’s flesh can prove fatal to those without the requisite knowledge.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

I read it over and over, only needing a fraction of a moment each time. On the umpteenth pass, something pulsed through the world, coming from both above and below. It slammed into me. My vision spun, the words swam, and… the last sentence changed, its gilded hue glowing brighter than the rest.

I seared the new information into my memory.

Partaking of this creature’s flesh can prove fatal to those without the requisite knowledge. Its white flesh is edible for those that have taken even a half step on the stairway of ascension, but is toxic to all when heated. Its dark meat, however, must be aged and cooked, lest it unravel the consumer’s core.

“Can prove fatal?” Barry asked. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not taking the chance.”

“Huh?” I raised both brows. “Did you not get the updated—”

My oldest nemesis, the bane of my early days on this world, smashed into my consciousness with all the subtlety of a rampaging Rocky. A bunch of lines printed out before me, and the last—its letters also highlighted in gold—made the others redundant.

You have advanced to fishing 100!

Something coalesced behind me, and I spun to catch the System-spawned bag of coins in my hand, except it wasn’t a bag at all. A small chest sat on my palm. Surprisingly, I’d seen one just like it before. Constructed of dark lacquered wood with metal casings around the corners, it was the same as the jewelry-filled container Snips had requisitioned from the ocean, which was originally yeeted into the bay by George to hide the spoils of his tax crimes.

The only visible difference was the object securing it. The lock on George’s had been created by a regular craftsman; this one was clearly System-made. Complex lines of essence surrounded it, and I instinctively knew breaking into it would be a terrible idea.

Despite this awareness, the prospect of loot called out to me, the goblin part of my brain demanding that I crack it open and reveal its goodies. It was something I’d read about in tonnes of fictions, but never experienced for myself.

“Huh,” I said, letting my mouth run before I could give in to temptation. “Looks like your winch lied to us, Bonnie. You can get skill levels when using it.”

“Did you…?” Barry asked.

“Certainly did, mate. I just got to fishing 100, which, as it turns out, rewards you with a whole box of loot. And I didn’t even have to deal with a foot-obsessed AI to get it—talk about a win.”

“... What?”

“Never mind—that’s someone else’s tale. More importantly, I’m pretty sure leveling up my let me know more about this fish than all of you.”

I quickly relayed the way the description changed after essence slammed into me from above and below. Their eyes, already wide, grew even wider.

Bonnie licked her lips. “Does that mean…?”

“Ah-huh. It means our inaugural expedition—which was into the Bluefathom Ocean, apparently—has come to an end. We need to get this monster back to Tropica so we don’t waste any of its white meat. First, though…”

I leaped up on the railing and pulled the fish closer, bringing its unseeing eye right next to the boat. This near to it, the thing’s size was even more unbelievable. If I used both my arms, I might be able to measure half its girth. I laid a hand against the top of its head, resting my palm above where the sword-like bill began.

“Thank you for your life, mate. We couldn’t safely release you, but that’s a testament to how much of a beast you were. Uh, in a good way, I mean. As in, you were really strong, not that you were dumb and violent.”

“Smoooth,” Barry teased, which earned him a whap on the back of the neck from Ruby.

I nodded my thanks her way before continuing. “Catching you let me further cast aside a worry I’ve been carrying for weeks. Because of you, I know that there are creatures out there that can challenge me. Your body will sustain us, and the memory of your strength will live rent-free in my noggin for the rest of my days.” I touched my forehead to its cheek plate. “Thank you.”

When I stepped back down from the rail, everyone stared at me with blank expressions or soft smiles.

“Damn,” Ruby said. “That was actually lovely, Fischer.”

“Cheers, Rubes. I felt the need to let my gratitude flow, especially considering what I’m about to ask Cinnamon to do it.”

My pregnant pal blinked. “What are you—”

Cinnamon, as reliable as she was inclined toward violence, already knew my request. She leaped, spun in a circle, and unleashed a roundhouse kick. A blade of aura coalesced around her paw as it collided with the fish’s neck, the sharp edge carving through flesh and bone.

Borks opened a rift, preparing to catch the severed head, but his ability was ripped apart by a golden wall of the purest chi I’d ever felt. The divine energy from earlier, once muted, was no longer so. It tore through us, setting every cell in my body to vibrating. There was no pain, but I flooded essence out regardless, terror seizing my heart as I sought to protect my friends—especially Ruby and her unborn child.

The gilded light tried to disassemble my tendrils of awareness the same way it had done with Borks’s ability—I denied it, my strands reforming to beat back its influence and reach my pals. When my thick roots of intent contacted each of them, relief coursed through me. They weren’t in danger.

The yellow brilliance pulsed through us all, setting our cores to humming as it expanding toward the horizon in a giant sphere. Now that I knew they were safe, I could think once more, and it took but a moment to realize the truth. I whirled back, facing the severed head, my senses honing it on the still-falling object.

The divinity-touched chi wasn’t coming from the entire swordfish; it was pouring from the blade-like appendage it used to carve through the ocean.

For some reason, detaching it had unshackled the power, letting the essence flow out into the world. I only hesitated for a fraction of a second, then I ordered my awareness to surround both parts of its form, willing to risk the assault on my senses.

I half expected to receive a metaphorical hammer to the cerebellum for my audacity, but no such castigation awaited me. As the bubble of light expanded, so too did its potency diminish, allowing me to investigate.

The body had a mesh of abyssal chi within that was similar to the whispers I’d felt from George and Geraldine’s cores, and now that part of it had been broken, the lines were unravelling before my senses. Pockets of it hadn’t yet disintegrated. They seemed to contain the golden power, its divine light unable to interfere with the dark strands the same way it had with mine.

So it was shackled, I thought. Interesting…

When I focused on the head, it revealed no secrets, but it did confirm something I’d already suspected: the swordfish’s namesake weapon was unfathomably powerful. Well… kinda. This ingredient—this naturally formed artifact—held the potential to become powerful. Until we worked out the method, it would remain inert.. That, however, was a problem for another day.

Most of the bubble was gone now, racing out to sea in every direction. With its absence, the symphonic hum of my friends’ cores faded. And the head, having tumbled for a few seconds, was about to plunge back into the ocean, the depths calling for its return. Before it could get there, I reached out and caught it with chi, my tendril glowing yellow everywhere the artifact made contact.

Borks shook his entire body with so much vigor that his rear paws skidded around. Then he trotted off for the hatch, batted it open, and sat down, staring at me with a lolling tongue and wagging tail.

I lobbed the head toward him, and he caught it happily, his eyes exuding the same golden light the moment it touched. He dropped it into the hull and cleared any lingering illumination with another energetic shake.

I slid the rest of its body into the cooled chamber, what had to be tonnes of mass disappearing into it and out of sight. Borks nudged the door closed, sealing the swordfish in with the cold.

No one said a word for a few breaths, until finally, Cinnamon broke the silence with a proud peep. How was my kick? Perfect, right?

I barked a laugh. “Beyond perfect, and even more violent than I expected. You too, Borks. Thanks for the assist.” After giving them both the scritching they deserved, I turned to the others. “Do you guys need to take care of anything before we… Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Fischer…” Ruby said. “Considering you just exposed my growing baby to some kind of unknown power, can we skip the whole pretend-nothing-happened schtick?”

“Hmm. Sure, but only if you agree not to joke about tonight’s events actually hurting your child. I almost had a bloody heart attack getting my chi to you in time, only to find out it wasn’t necessary.”

She intertwined her fingers before her, a shrewd expression coming to her face. “No. The cost is too great.”

“Ruby.” Steven pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t drag this on any longer than required. Your core is screaming that you’ll eventually accept.”

She whapped him on the arm lightly. “I was trying to get more out of him!”

That they were willing to joke around with me and each other after the discovery of a natural artifact made most of the tension melt away from my shoulders.

“Fiiiine,” she continued, rolling her eyes. “On with it, then. What was all that about? What did we miss?”

“Oh, no clue,” I lied. “Not any more than all of you, anyway.”

Barry turned to Theo, whose expression was flatter than the ocean of a windless night, his ability knowing the truth.

“Denied,” I said to my muscular pal. “We’ve been through this song-and-dance already, mate. Even if I’m lying, you won’t get it out of him. It’s a waste of time.”

Barry’s jaw tensed, but he could tell I was right. “Okay… but are you’re really going to deny you knew something was up with the head?”

“Before Cinnamon lopped it off with her sweet kick and accompanying energy blade? Mate, I swear on the lives of every animal pal, future, past, and present—I had absolutely no clue the sword on its noggin was an artifact, nor that it was special in any way.”

Theo’s impassive visage finally shifted, revealing a surprised smirk. “Truth. He really had no idea…”

Barry looked at Theo, then at me, then at Theo once more for good measure. “I’ve never given it much thought, but how do I know you’re not lying?”

The former auditor shrugged. “Your cultivation is stronger than mine, and you can examine my core all you please. Unlike Fischer, I’ll not risk your trust in me for a laugh.”

“Okay, ouch,” I said. “But I’m serious, Barry,” I said. “I h.

“Then why in Poseidon’s humid groin did you remove its head?”

“It’s a pelagic fish, mate. Gotta bleed ‘em.”

“That… That doesn’t mean you had to kick it off.”

“Well, no, but we did have to slice it at least once for it to fit below deck, anyway. If the cut was anywhere else, it could spoil way more meat, and that’s just disrespectful.”

“And kicking its head off isn’t?” Trent asked, raising a brow.

“Maybe, but less-so than wasting its body would be. Besides, I delegated the task to the best among us. Cinnamon is a being of martial prowess, complete grace, and unparalleled violence.”

She nodded, letting out an affirmative peep. I am.

I clapped my hands to get everyone’s attention. “Perfect! We’re in agreement, then!”

“We are?” Barry asked.

“Ah-huh! I just decided!” Sliding back into sincerity, I bent at the waist, bowing low. “Thank you for coming, everyone. I couldn’t name a better crew to have joined me on Bob’s maiden voyage, and it’s time we returned home.” I straightened, smiling at them. “We have sashimi to share with the rest of the village, after all!.”

Their cores hummed with excitement and hunger, neither of which I could filter out—I was much more exhausted than I let on. Abruptly, a breeze tussle my hair, making me realize my hat was missing.

Before I could enquire as to its whereabouts, Paul dashed forward, holding it out.

“Thanks, mate!” As I slipped it back on, so too came my captain’s persona. I stood tall and puffed out my chest. “Batton down the hatches, crew! Stow the rods the tackle!” I pivoted and hopped up onto the railing. “As soon it’s all secured, we’re setting sail!”

“Aye, Captain!” they replied in a chorus.

I turned to gaze out at the waves, an ocean of thoughts and questions assailing me. I had dreamed of a trip like this for months, and as exhilarated as I’d been to depart, I was even more thrilled to return home—the future, both distant and near, promised countless possibilities.

One thought stood out about the others, and I peered over my shoulder, watching my crew race around the deck and prepare Bob the boat for departure.

What have I done to deserve so many wonderful friends...?