Airborne fish approached from all directions. No time to think. I scooped up a pair of ice bulbs and swung them forward. I triggered [Heat Transfer] while continuing my spin to grab another pair with my left hand, throwing those behind me. With my [Throw] skill, the frozen light bulbs took out four fish on their own, the sudden illumination causing the fish to flinch their heads the moment they reached me.
I ducked below the fish aimed at my head and caught one at my chest. Fish slammed into my back and sides, their sharp teeth grazing my skin through cut clothes. I spun to try and preemptively loosen any bites, but two latched onto my left arm and leg. I screamed at the pain, then shouted, “[Heat Transfer]!”
Mana surged through my blood directly into the wicked jaws of the nightmarish creatures. I felt a chill as energy transferred from me into the fish, but with a 1:3 ratio, any amount of cold I felt would be sent three times as strong as heat to my assailants. I felt a grim satisfaction as I waited for the skill to complete, grabbing the tail fin of the fish I held so I could swing it like like a bat with my free right arm. Its scales were coarse and I felt like I was rubbing my palm into sandpaper. But I kept my grip and used the fish to knock out its friends as they jumped at me.
Moments that felt like minutes passed, and the fish that had bit into me loosed their jaws, flopping pitifully on the raft at my feet. I ignored them for now as a trio of fish flew at me from three different directions. I used [Throw] to hurl the hopefully deceased fish in my hands at the closest target, knocking them both several meters away into the black.
For the remaining two I held my arms open as if to give a wide hug. Then, when they were close enough, I clapped my hands together as hard as I could, catching both fish in the motion and slapping them together. When they fell to the wood floor I kicked them both off as hard as I could, imagining silent screams as they sailed back to the sea.
That was when I noticed a surprising detail about the two fish I’d cooked with [Heat Transfer]. They were both on fire. Not a massive blaze, but a decent stove-top flame burning with a consistency that indicated a fuel source.
Curious that it was, I didn’t want the raft I was standing on to catch fire, so gave them both a swift kick and sent them into the water. Astonishingly, the flames were not extinguished. The fish both continued to slowly burn, a faint red flame emerging from within them and casting a pale glow on the surrounding waters.
More splashing sounded behind me, but before I could find them a sharp pain erupted in my ankle, dropping me to my knee. The sudden movement tilted the raft, and I noticed with dismay the rest of my hydrogen ice bulbs sliding into the ocean. The fish bit into them quickly, recognizing the dangers they posed, and the ice instantly shattered, freeing the hydrogen within.
The fish swarmed and I was in too much pain to keep fighting back. I knelt and shielded my neck with my hands, bending my head as close to my chest as I could. The fish latched onto whatever exposed portion of skin they could find, but I wasn’t done yet. I was already channeling my mana, and with as much willpower as I could I forced past the pain and invoked [Heat Transfer] on everything connected to me.
Eight instances of [Heat Transfer] ran in parallel, and I knew that what little had remained of my mana was depleting fast. But soon enough, the force of each bite gradually weakened. Then when my mana ran dry, all eight fish were set aflame as whatever fuel inside them ignited. Their jaws opened on reflex, and they fell onto the wet raft.
I weakly pushed them off the raft with my bloodied arm and collapsed onto my back. This was it. I was leaking blood, I was out of mana, and I was out of ideas. It hurt far too much to move let alone fight, and I had no way to heal myself.
Turning my neck — the only unbloodied piece I had left — to the side I looked out at the ocean. Three of the burning fish glowing faintly in the dark, providing just enough light to see the outlines of another ten fish charge at me from the air. Doubtless more were coming from the other sides too.
I watched the fish, intent to face my death with eyes open, just as before.
“[Air Slash]!” Called out a distinctly feminine voice.
The fish were bisected mid-air, spraying their entrails on and around me. They reeked of blood and oil. Before I could call out to my savior, a thin film of water coated my body, instantly soothing the pain with its cool, gentle touch. My eyes flickered closed, my lungs exhaling in relief as my wounds were closed and my mana partially restored.
“Don’t rest yet, human,” the girl warned. “Glowbites are relentless, especially when the moons are away.”
When the water receded, I stood up and inspected my arms and legs. All the bite wounds had completely healed, and the blood had been cleaned away. “That was amazing,” I replied. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, of course, glad to help!” she responded, and only then did I think it strange that I hadn’t been attacked in a while. I looked around and noticed that my rescuer had pulled up next to me on a small sailboat that looked like it could fit seven or so people. There was a faint green distortion surrounding us like a bubble. “[Wind Veil], a concealment barrier. They’ll see through it soon though. Best get ready.”
“To what?” She seemed like she had this well in hand.
“Fight back,” she grinned. “Haven’t had a good bout in days. Hop aboard, and let’s teach these fish you’re not good eating, yeah?”
Her attitude was surprising but I was hardly in a position to argue. “Sounds good to me, thank you.” The boat was close enough that all I needed to do was jump up the two or three feet to clear the hull. I looked back at the slab of driftwood that had hosted me thus far. It was coated with water, blood, and miscellaneous oily fish guts. I wasn’t a sentimental person, but I did feel as though my raft deserved a send-off of sorts, and I had just the thing in mind. I reached out a hand and, to communicate that I was using a skill, invoked its name out loud as she had. “[Heat Transfer].”
I hadn’t regained much of my mana back from that healing spell, but it was enough to raise the temperature of the oil so that it burned hot. Within a few moments, the remains caught fire, quickly spreading to the raft and creating a small bonfire on the ocean surface. I could see a bit further now, and there were a lot more fish than I had expected. I couldn’t see underwater, but there had to be hundreds of fins and heads swimming about.
“Ooh, nice skill,” the girl complimented excitedly. “Slower than a [Fireball], but there wasn’t a flame. Looks hard to counter. What’s the range?”
“Close proximity,” I told her. “But I’m not sure exactly what that means.”
“Arm’s length twice, usually,” she answered. “Won’t be too much help from here though. Got any ranged combat skills?”
“Only [Throw],” I said, hoping she wasn’t expecting too much from me. “I’ve never really been in a fight before, myself.”
“Ah, so you’re from a city. Or a noble? Well, doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t have any throwing knives, but I could lend you one of my chakrams if you want?” The girl held out one of the circular discs she was holding in each hand. It was maybe the size and general shape of a Frisbee if said Frisbee was hollow on the inside with only a handgrip interrupting the sharp, silver blade that ran along the outside of the ring.
“Thank you, but I wouldn’t want to use a weapon I’m unfamiliar with,” I replied, trying to let her down gently while really I was just confused. Did she want me to just throw her weapon or something? What was I supposed to do with it?
The girl shrugged. “Suit yourself, uh, oh! Right! Names! Mine’s Kiria. What’s yours?”
I laughed, also having forgotten. “Micah. Thank you for the rescue, Kiria.”
“Rescue’s not over,” Kiria grinned, gripping both her chakrams and shifting to an attack stance. She had been watching the water and must have seen something I hadn’t. “The fire scared them off for a bit, but they’ve acclimated. Try to stay near me so I can protect you, but not too close that you get in my way.”
“I’ll stand on the far end here and focus on dodging,” I replied, stepping over to the other side of the small boat, giving her a couple of meters of space or so. I looked over the hull, seeing only water but knowing it was far from empty.
There was a pause. The wind was still, the ocean calm. The crackling of the dying flames was the only companion to my steady breaths. My surprise partner was silent as well, likely focusing just as I was in listening for our attackers.
Or from her perspective, our prey.
Splashes sounded all around us, and I bent my legs and ducked underneath the first wave, glad for the high ground that an actual boat provided. The glowbite fish, as she had called them, had to jump up higher to reach me, and couldn’t stealth attack my feet from just over the edge anymore.
More glowing teeth appeared around me, jaws wide and hungry, but I was ready for them. It was just a more violent form of dodgeball, and now that I had actual room to move my feet, I could put into practice the skills I’d hone after years of entertaining the younger children at the orphanage.
A group of five glowbites tried to leap at me next, jumping from the aft of the boat to land on the deck itself. I let most of them, catching one mid-flight and tightening my grip on it. Like the others, its rough scales threatened to rub my skin off, but I persevered while stomping the other four. They tried to bite my foot, but [Heat Transfer] made them too weak to be much of a threat as I boiled them inside out. I made sure to stop before they caught fire, though.
I spared a moment to check on how Kiria was doing and gasped in surprise. She was crouched on one knee, her arms extended outward at her sides as if readying to fly. Her chakrams had been thrown to either side of her, swirling with magic that threw out blades of wind magic to shred the fish that approach from the port and starboard sides of the boat. When the magic faded, I feared they would plummet into the ocean, but Kiria retracted her arms and her weapons flew back into her hands.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
When they returned, she jumped forward into a cyclone of motion, summoning more aerial blades to her and making short work of the glowbites that approached her. Now above the water, she threw her chakrams downward and caused a tall splash of water directly below. The water coalesced into a pillar that Kiria landed on, her feet settling onto the flat surface she had created with magic. The pillar was like an ever-flowing cylindrical waterfall with water rushing up through the center and falling down the outer surface.
Kiria glanced my way, and to my shock sent a blade of water right above my head. I flinched as I duck, nearly dropping the fish, and heard the sound of slicing flesh behind me. “Don’t get distracted!” She called out to me, smiling widely at the attention.
I shook my head at my foolishness and turned back to my much smaller battle. It was clear that Kiria could use both wind and water magic, and I was fairly certain that she was directing the currents beneath the boat to lure more of the glowbites to her.
A trio of fish leaped at me from the right, so I used [Throw] to propel the glowbite in my hands sideways so the length of the fish crashed into two of them. I caught the third fish, then repeated this attack on another group of four that attack from behind me. Gradually, I got into a rhythm where I would catch a fish and chuck it at the others while dodging any that I missed.
After a few cycles, I felt like my throws were becoming easier to aim and control, as well as becoming more powerful. The glowbites I hit were being launched back even further, and there had even been a couple that I think I may have injured in the process. Had my skill leveled up? There was no time for me to check, but the thought buoyed me. Maybe I wasn’t totally useless at fighting after all, though part of me knew it may have just been better to let Kiria protect me. I still had my pride, however, if little else. I wasn’t about to let a girl, no, anyone fight for me.
Eventually, the number of fish that jumped out of the water dwindled. I watched for more, but none emerged. Turning to look at the front of the boat, I saw Kiria likewise finished with her battle, standing amidst what looked like 30 dead glowbites laying about the deck. She waved her hand and another dead glowbite floated out of the ocean and joined the pile. Her chakrams were attached to two hooks on her belt, hanging on either side of her hips.
I couldn’t see her expression very well anymore, the fire from my raft just about ready to snuff out. “You don’t eat them with the oil, I hope,” I called out, notifying her that my end was clear.
“Not unless you’ve got a real strong stomach,” Kiria joked. “We’ll clean them back at the camp. For now, we should get going. Do you know if there are any other survivors around here?”
“Survivors?” My brow furrowed.
“From your ship.”
Oh, right. That would be the natural assumption, wouldn’t it? Should I go along with it, and say I had just been shipwrecked? I didn’t know if it was a good idea to just tell the whole truth as I understood it in case she thought I was crazy and dumped me back into the ocean. And claiming a storm had somehow carried me from land all the way out here alive seemed terribly far-fetched. But if I lied, that could come back to bite me, especially if she asked for any simple details like the ship’s name or where we sailed from. And I had it on good authority that I was a terrible liar.
Instead, I opted for a partial truth, without context. When you give information with holes, sometimes people will fill in the blanks themselves. “No, I was on my own when I got caught by a storm. Woke up with only the clothes on my back and that slab of wood.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” Kiria said sincerely. I could hear the compassion in her voice as she consoled me. “We could see the manastorm from the island. It was the worst anyone’s seen in years.”
I nodded, though the gesture was likely futile in the darkness. The fire had gone out, and all I could see now were the stars above. There was a great deal of them, thousands or maybe even millions more than I had ever seen in the city. And none of the common constellations I knew about were there. “Yeah, it was pretty bad. But I got lucky to survive as long as I did, until those bloody fish arrived. Thanks for coming when you did, Kiria. You saved me. Wasn’t expecting any help.”
“You’re welcome, Micah,” I could hear her smile, even if I couldn’t see it. “It’s fortunate that your magic can start fires. I only knew where to go when I saw these flashes in the distance. I thought it was just my eyes playing tricks on me at first, but when it repeated I decided to take a look.”
“I’m glad you did,” I replied. “I’m surprised you saw that, though. I was looking for ships for a while and didn’t see anyone nearby. And I doubt these tiny flames would go very far.”
“My [Nightvision] helps with that,” Kiria said. “When it gets dark, any light, however faint, shines much brighter to me. So I could faintly see your magic from a few selles away.”
I blinked in surprise. The [Nightvision] thing, which was likely a skill but also could have something else I didn’t know about yet was one thing. But the more shocking thing to me was the different unit of measurement. I didn’t know if a ‘selle’ was this world’s version of a mile or kilometer or something longer or shorter, but the fact that it existed was a shock to me. Even if it was just a unit in a different language, science was fairly well standardized on Earth. I was pretty sure most people used one of those two units of measurement, at least near my home nation.
Realizing she was waiting for me to respond, I opened my mouth to speak but was interrupted by my stomach, which had just audibly grumbled. I hoped that nightvision of hers didn’t include colors, because I was sure I was red with embarrassment.
“Heh,” Kiria revealed her amusement, much to my chagrin. “You must be hungry after having been shipwrecked for a day. I’ll set sail back to the island. If you’re trying to go somewhere specific, the chief can help you out.”
“Thank you,” I replied. I heard Kiria’s footsteps on the wooden deck, followed by the ruffling of a large piece of cloth. I hadn’t seen the sailcloth before, so I assumed she stored it away somewhere before the battle so it wouldn’t get damaged.
*grrooooaaaar*
I jumped in shock, frantically looking around despite my utter lack of vision. “That wasn’t my stomach this time.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Kiria responded warily. I could hear her motions become more hurried. “We need to leave. Now.”
“What was that?”
“Megalodon,” she said quickly. “Sea monster that only appears during big storms. [Tailwind]!”
A rush of wind blew past my face toward the sail, whose silhouette I could make out against the starry sky. I heard the sail billow from the wind, and we jerked forward, accelerating hard. After a few moments, I felt the boat begin to turn to the right. It was a gradual turn that maintained allowed our speed to build without tilting us over. I wanted to ask more, but it was clear that Kiria was tense, so I decided it best to let her focus.
I turn around and looked out past the aft of the boat, figuring that if we were running away, the biggest risk would be it following from behind. I could see nothing but the light pinpricks of light dotting the entire sky, and the curtain of black below that was the ocean. But if this megalodon was as big as I imagined, I should be able to see a chunk of stars disappear if it broke above the ocean surface. So I watched the stars at eye level with me and prayed they stay alight.
Wind buffeted my face, coldly numbing my bare skin. I began to shiver but knew that this magical wind Kiria controlled was our only chance. I checked my mana level and saw that it was at 56/1597. I didn’t know how many skills I could use with that, but it wouldn’t be much.
A shadow darkened the sky in front of me. “Kiria, behind us!” I shouted in warning.
The boat suddenly leaned to the left, nearly throwing me overboard as I slammed into the low wall of the hull. Kiria had put the boat into a sharp turn, narrowly evading the lunging charge of the shadowy monster. I couldn’t see any details; not its skin, eyes, or teeth. But I could see its size, and it was massive. Just the part that surfaced rose to the height of a single-story building, and it was as long as the length of a train car. And that was just what blocked the stars above the water.
We stabilized and shot forward once more, practically skimming the water with how fast we were going. But I knew it wouldn’t be enough on its own. “Can you use attack magic?!” I shouted over the roaring wind and waves.
“No!” Kiria replied. “I can’t sustain this wind and use another skill at the same time! And we can’t afford to slow down!”
I was afraid that would be the case.
What could I do to help? My [Electrolysis] couldn’t harm the glowbites, so that was out. [Heat Transfer] was too slow, and the close range needed to use it was exactly what we were trying to avoid. [Mana Manipulation] only help me use my other skills, so that left me with just [Throw].
Throwing the fish would be useless, and I doubted Kiria’s chakrams would make a dent even if she were willing to give them up. But did I have anything else?
Another roar resounded through the air following a loud splash of water. Kiria swerved the boat to the right this time, and I grabbed onto the side to prevent being tossed around like before. I saw the dark shadow of the monster dive into the spot we just vacated, blocking the stars for a brief moment before disappearing into the black once more.
Blast it, if only there were some light then maybe I could help somehow, or at least see what this megalodon looked like. I considered making more ice bulbs, but we were moving too quickly for me to capture the hydrogen gas, even if I had the mana for it. And the light would only last a second or two, which wouldn’t be much help.
Then I remembered the glowbites. They could sustain a fire, and there were a bunch right behind me. If I could ignite one and throw it at the megalodon during its charge, maybe I could get lucky and burn its tongue. Scare it away or just make it hesitate long enough for us to escape.
I blindly reached around me, sweeping my arm across the deck hoping that not all of the fish had been thrown overboard during those evasive maneuvers. Fortunately, there was a relatively intact one in arm’s reach missing only its head. I gripped the fish and used [Heat Transfer] to move energy from my body into it.
My mana felt viscous and noncompliant. I already felt cold, and now I was trying to take even more energy from myself and channel it. With a 1:3 conversion ratio, I didn’t think I’d be in any danger. Any single joule of energy I lost would equate to three joules of energy to the fish, and I had a lot more mass with which to store energy. But it was tight, and I hadn’t eaten in what felt like an entire day. The cold night grew colder to me, and my chilled body was shivering.
Another splash resounded before the boat lurched to the right once more, slamming my side against the wall and threatening to topple me overboard. I felt a sharp pain as the edge of the wood dug into my skin, but I was determined to maintain the skill.
In the end, it worked. The remaining oil in the fish ignited, and the glowbite burned. I tore off the remains of my shirt and wrapped it around the fish to maintain the flame and add to its kindling. The fire burned hot in my hands as the ragged cloth caught aflame. “Kiria, wait to turn on my signal!”
“Okay!” Kiria replied, her voice strained. I could only imagine how much mana she was spending to maintain her [Tailwind], not to mention steering the boat.
I turned my attention to the water behind the boat. The megalodon had attacked from behind all three times prior, and I had no reason to believe that would change. Maybe we were moving too quickly for it to outflank us. Or maybe it enjoying the chase.
Either way, I focused on the stars, steadfastly ignoring the bundle of flames in my hands. I drew my arm back into a throwing position and channeled my mana into my arm. This one shot needed to count.
The wait was short. The black silhouette darkened the stars on the horizon and then above, swiftly rising above the ocean surface. This time, I could just make out its head in the light. The megalodon was a giant shark, and its massive jaw was widening to unsheathe rows of menacingly sharp teeth. I hesitated for a moment, but then quickly spent all the mana I had left and shouted, “[Throw]!”
My arm shot forward and the burning bundle blasted from my hand straight into the back of the monster’s maw. “Now!”
The boat swerved to the left, the wind shifting to help us evade the massive shark. I braced myself against the wall, desperately holding onto what little grip I could find. Saltwater splashed into me, burning my eyes and the cuts on my skin. Finally, the turn was completed and the boat bounced back into its upright position. I heard the megalodon’s roar behind us, but it was different from before. I couldn’t be sure, but I almost had the impression that it was hurt. Or maybe it was just annoyed.
We zoomed forward on the water, Kiria’s wind magic holding strong as it propelled us to safety (hopefully). I was out of mana again and figured Kiria wouldn’t have a chance to use that spell that restored a portion of it. If the monster returned, I was out of playable cards.
I watched the stars behind us, searching for the shadow. Seconds stretched into minutes, but I held my vigil. Kiria’s [Tailwind] continued strong, blowing into my face the entire time. My skin was dry and cracked, and the cold sunk into my head and exposed chest. My extremities were numb, and I was beginning to feel light-headed as the adrenaline wore off and my fatigue caught up to me.
Yet still, I watched. Watched and waited for the first sign of continued pursuit.
Until a tired voice spoke, “I think we’re clear. Go ahead and rest, I’ll get us home.”
And my consciousness faded to black.