If a man cannot teach his children to love fishing, then he does not love it himself.

-Excerpt from ‘Fishing and More’ by Ronald Westwind

Dirt and fire erupted right in front of her as her house was blown to smithereens by the cannonfire. Rose staggered on her feet and fell on her backside.

Her legs felt like hot jelly. She could barely feel them. Her heart dropped as the dust and smoke cleared, revealing an empty crater where her house had stood moments before.

This couldn’t be happening.

She had a few dregs of arcane energy left in her core and she forced them into her legs, giving her the strength to stand once more. Rose wouldn’t lie around. She needed to know.

Limping to the edge of the crater, she stared down at the charred remains of her childhood home with horror. There was nothing left, save for a few scraps of metal and wood.

She jumped down, the shock of her landing making most of the remains turn to dust before her eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek.

Falling to her knees, she grabbed a handful of ash and watched as it fell through her fingers. She found some solace in the fact there were no bones among the remains, which she hoped meant her parents hadn’t been inside when it was decimated.

Though even the metal pots and pans hadn’t survived the blast, which meant there was a good chance the explosions of the cannonballs could incinerate even bone. She hoped not.

Tossing away the rest of the ash, Rose got to her feet, turning her gaze towards the trio of ships. This close she could finally see the flag of the Minenblum Royal Navy.

That accursed flag had caused her enough grief to last three lifetimes and she’d only encountered it for the first time a few months ago. They were insufferable, villainous bastards, every last one of them.

She even allotted her annual curse to them, that was how damnably infuriating they were. Whoops, that was two.

Rose would forgive herself this once.

But she would never forgive them, not until the day she died or every last royal and officer of Minenblum lay dead at her feet or rotting in the depths, food for the creatures of her god.

Perhaps a small part of that was because she blamed herself. This invasion may have been inevitable given their ruthless expansionism, but it had no doubt been accelerated by the loss of Chester and Branmore Saff.

Even so, those insufferable brothers had more than deserved their deaths. They’d practically asked for it. The latter with how he relentlessly chased Trent and the former with his arrogance to take on her captain, believing he had the upper hand.

She hadn’t been able to witness his last stand, but she’d heard it had been epic. Supposedly the explosions could be seen from Minenblum. A cloud of green flames and blinding light that rocked the oceans and rattled the shores.

Rose didn’t have the power of flames or light like Trent had done, but she had her own skills. Her own methods of delivering death to those who deserved it.

Climbing out of the crater that was once her home, she pulled out Divine Serpent’s Lure and twirled it in her hands. She walked towards the beach, her gaze never leaving the three ships that floated in the distance.

When she reached the edge of the sands, she didn’t stop. The moment the salty sea water washed over her feet she quivered and let out a piercing wail of anguish.

With her emotions unleashed on the skies, Rose felt cleansed. Sylack, you can claim my soul, my body, my very essence as tribute if you so desire. Whatever your price, I do not care. Just give me the power to kill these heinous cretins, she prayed, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

A second of silence passed, broken only by the sound of chopping waves and the flapping of sails. Then she felt a familiar tendril wrapping around her leg. An invisible force, not arcane in nature, but divine.

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She heard a splash and then gasped as a wave of unblemished divinity surged into her core, burning her from the inside out. At the same time, she felt ecstatic.

Rose raised her rod and read over the golden bordered whorl that had appeared before her.

Through your unmatched devotion and tireless effort, your chosen deity has acknowledged your faith!

Your [Minor Blessing of Sylack] has been enhanced to [Blessing of Sylack]!

This time, she didn’t even need to check to know what it did. She could feel the power coursing through her veins. She was in tune with the ocean itself and the myriad creatures that lived within its depths.

If she wished, she could call on another monstrous leviathan to annihilate her foes. This time however, Rose wanted to take matters into her own hands.

There was no vision to accompany the upgraded blessing, no journey through the depths inhabiting the mind of one of Sylack’s many creations. Did he create them or just govern them? she wondered.

Rose flicked her rod back, preparing to strike. She was still quite far from the ships, but her line had enough slack to reach. And she could see with perfect clarity.

However, just when she reached the zenith of her lift she felt an unbelievable pressure descending on her shoulders and heard a whisper in her ears. The voice was coarse and gravelly, like the old sailors who’d spent decades at sea, but even deeper and heavier.

It sounded ancient. And what she heard sent her mind reeling in a thousand directions.

I do not need to take my own flesh and blood as sacrifice, child. For you, my power flows freely. All you must do is earn the right to wield it, it rasped.

She couldn’t grasp the implications of the statement right now. That… had been Sylack speaking to her directly. A god. Her god.

That didn’t happen. Ever. No one except the highest priests had the privilege of communion with the pantheon. Except Rose had just heard her god whispering in her ears.

And what he’d said… he called me his flesh and blood, she realised with shock. Her arms froze in the air, the serpent fang hook dangling behind her head.

That could mean many things, but for a god to say that… Rose didn’t even know how to start unravelling that web. For now, she decided not to.

Her enemies lay before her and she had divine power overflowing within her body. Her task was clear. Sylack had said he didn’t need to take anything from her, but that didn’t mean she would leave him without an offering.

Fish are hungry creatures. And there was a plentiful source of food floating right in front of her.

More power than she’d ever felt before raced through her body, healing her ruined muscles and filling them with strength. The unknown yet familiar energy flowed from her fingertips, channelled into the hook at the end of her rod and guiding the line.

In the distance she could see a man standing at the back of the flagship. His uniform was eerily familiar. A copy of Commodore Saff’s, though with far fewer medals pinned to his breast.

That had to be the man her uncle had warned her about. Commodore Foulter. If he was weaker than Saff, then perhaps she could win.

She wouldn’t have stood a chance a few moments earlier, but with the power of her god flowing in her veins, Rose was oozing with confidence.

Nothing could stand in her way.

Skill up!

Divine Attunement 4 > 5

Without even using the power yet, her skill had grown. Proof of the sheer quantity available to her right now.

Her arms descended with a snap and the hook flew towards the flagship, the line reeling out after it. A faint hum made the air shiver, unheard over the sound of the waves and the wind.

Rose’s gaze never left the commodore, but he wasn’t her first target. There was no doubt he would be guarded against unseen strikes and she had no desire to waste her opening blow.

The serpent had been the largest prey she’d hunted up until now. It was likely bigger than even this colossal flagship, but in terms of ambition, she thought this attempt was far grander.

She saw a few men besides the commodore scrambling towards the railings as the hook approached. Perhaps they’d felt the tremors in the air.

The tingle of impending death.

A golden glow erupted around the hook as it smashed through the hull of the flagship and she let it continue to bury itself deep in the bowels of the gigantic vessel. She felt it catch on something nigh immovable.

And then she tugged. Streams of golden power rippled outwards from the serpent fang hook and a bellowing groan could be heard across the bay. The grinding of metal preceded an echoing crack of wood and just like that, the ship splintered in two.

Dozens of men fell into the ocean below, though her target was fur sturdier than anticipated and most kept their footing after a brief struggle with balance. But Rose was satisfied with the opening strike.

However, just as she prepared to yank back her line, she felt a gaze descend upon her. The gaze of a predator.

And when she tried to pull on her rod, it refused to budge.