As they approached the land, the Fangs of Capitis became more and more tensed. The rhythmic chanting sent shivers down their spines, and Gale and Breeze had been reduced to quivering limp blobs lying on their raft. Abel clenched and unclenched his sword’s hilt as he stared at the shore. Hundreds of fishmen were positioned in neat rows in the shallow waters, harvesting seaweed from ropes underneath the surface of the water.
As the leviathan skeleton and raft got closer and closer, the chanting gradually stopped, and the fishmen paused their work to stare at the approaching vessels. Charlotte shivered and said, “They look soulless, but they’re definitely not skeletons.”
A big red fishman swam out into the ocean and treaded water in front of the Fangs. “You come from across the ocean?” he asked. “Do you understand me?”
“We’re from here,” Charlotte said. “We just ended up in the ocean due to a botched teleportation.” An image of a girl with horns flashed into her mind, but she shook her head and it went away. “We don’t mean any harm.”
“Oh,” the red fishman said and nodded. “No harm. Follow me; I’ll guide you away from our farms.”
“I’ve never seen fishmen operate in such large numbers before,” the Fang with the axes said as the leviathan skeleton drifted towards the shore. “I didn’t know fishmen farmed. Weren’t you supposed to be hunter-gatherers?”
The red fishman nodded. “We were,” he said, “until we were enlightened by the mistress’ teachings. She is our savior. Look at all the food we can grow.” He gestured around in the water at the masses of seaweed. On shore, beyond the sand and on the grass, hundreds of fishmen were gathering plants while planting seeds. Some were spreading gooey pastes onto the ground. “We no longer need to depend on luck to survive. Agriculture! That’s what our savior’s messengers call it.”
“Who,” Charlotte asked as she looked around, “is this savior? Or mistress, as you call her. We heard your chanting from quite some distance away.”
“You heard our chanting?” the red fishman asked, his face cramping. “All the chanting?”
“The bloodthirsty bits too,” the Fang with the axes said. “You’re very fierce for farmers. For a while, we thought you were undead.”
“Undead?” the red fishman asked.
“It was their comments,” the Fang with the axes said and pointed at Gale and Breeze.
“Oh,” the red fishman said. “Well, I’m very much alive, as you can see. All of us are.”
“What about the mistress?” Charlotte asked. “You didn’t answer my question.”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“The mistress is, uh, the mistress.” The red fishman nodded. “She’s symbolic.”
Charlotte tilted her head. “Um, okay? What about her messengers? Were they also not actual people? How did you learn these methods then?”
“The messengers came to us in our dreams,” the red fishman said. “Yes, our dreams.” He cleared his throat before Charlotte could respond. “Ah, you five look very strong. Are you famous, perhaps?”
“We’re the Fangs of Capitis,” Abel said, sticking his chest out while crossing his arms. He faced the fishman and waited.
The fishman blinked. “Ah, the Fangs of Capitis…”
“The number one human adventurer party,” Charlotte said. “You’ve never heard of us?”
“Oh! The Fangs of Capitis! Of course,” the red fishman said and nodded. “Of course, of course. I’ve heard of you! Can I get your autographs?” He paused and scratched his head. “Oh, but why are you out here and not participating in the war?”
“In the what?” the Fang with the rifle asked.
“The war,” the red fishman said. “The humans are calling it the Great War. A few moon cycles ago, the humans declared war on the dwarves. I thought all adventurer parties were participating in it.”
“What!?” Abel asked, jumping to his feet. “Really?”
“Yes,” the red fishman said with a nod as he climbed onto the shore. “The emperor even sent out a royal decree. A few men were sent to my tribe to warn us not to interfere in the war efforts. In fact, some of our seaweed is going to help supply your army.”
“What is the emperor thinking?” Charlotte asked as she stood up and hopped off the leviathan’s skeleton and onto the sand. “Why would he declare war against the dwarves?” She grabbed the red fishman’s shoulder. It was unusually bony, but she didn’t seem to notice or mind. “What about the holy dragons? What is their stance on this?”
The fishman squirmed under her grasp and slipped free. “The holy dragons haven’t done anything,” he said. “Perhaps they’re sleeping? Dragons sleep for years at a time, right?”
“The matriarch isn’t that irresponsible,” Charlotte said and clenched her fist. “She burned down a town for littering once! There’s no way she’d stand for humans and dwarves fighting a war.”
“Then she must not know about it,” the Fang with the rifle said. He turned towards Abel. “What do we do? Should we inform the matriarch?”
Abel shook his head. “We’ll go to the emperor first and see what’s going on in that empty head of his,” he said. “Depending on his answer, we’ll participate in the war or we’ll inform the matriarch. Personally, I want to participate in the war: fame, glory, spoils. War is the best time to grow. And with our strength, even a small army of dwarves can’t stop us, not even with their thunder shooters.” He nodded. “Come, let’s go! To the imperial capital.”
The red fishman remained motionless as the five Fangs charged ahead, sprinting towards the mainland. He turned his head towards Gale and Breeze, who were still lying on the raft. He muttered, “How troublesome. I’ll have to waste a mana crystal to ask the leader what to do.” He approached the raft and squinted at the two figures. “Or I can handle this myself. Should I send him back out to sea?”
“Ah!” Gale screamed as he bolted upright, causing the red fishman to flinch and stumble backwards. “You! Y-you’re not a skeleton…?”
The red fishman looked down and made sure his scales were still there. Then he raised his head and met Gale’s eyes. “Are you blind?”
“No, it’s just that…” Gale’s brow furrowed and he bit his lower lip, causing a droplet of blood to ooze out. “Never mind. Do, do you have any food I can have?”
“Food,” the red fishman said, his eyes lighting up. “Yes. Yes, we have lots of food. And all of it is perfectly safe for consumption. Come, I’ll treat you to a feast.”