Chương 484: B7—Chapter 60: Fishy Business

The swimmers-versus-walkers section was different again, and it was hilarious, in my opinion. Mahya and Al didn't think so. Rue was just happy to have something to finally fight. Once again, we found a door at the end of the last lava tunnel that led to another metal room, and the opposite door opened to the back end of a waterfall. When we got through the door, a sheet of water fell down with a thunderous roar a meter in front of us.

For a couple of minutes, we looked for a way to get around the water, but finally just crossed it. At least it wasn't cold, or maybe I didn't feel the cold with my higher stats. I wasn't sure which. We came out on a ledge over a lake with the strangest thing I'd seen so far happening on the shore. Fish walked along the beach, spears in hand. They looked like a cross between sharks and marlins with legs and hands, and like they never missed a leg or arm day at the gym.

Their arms and legs had bulging muscles that would have put Schwarzenegger to shame. They walked back and forth on the beach, waving their spears and letting out strange roars that sounded like half a hoot and half a roar. Something like hrrrooo-uhh. Every time two of them walked face to face, they flexed their biceps like I've seen guys do in the gym, first the right arm, then the left arm. Then they patted each other's biceps like a compliment, did one more flex of both arms together, and continued their patrol.

The first time I saw it, I burst out laughing. Mahya and Al turned and looked at me with their eyebrows at their foreheads.

"Seriously?" I asked and waved at the flexing marlsharks.

"You don't think it funny?" One of the flexers planted his feet wider and leaned into the pose, as if he were modeling for a picture. Mahya shook her head like a disappointed mother, but her lips twitched. Al just looked down his nose at me. Behind them, two more flexing exchanges took place, each mirroring the last. The swimmers were large gray fish that looked almost normal. They were big, but that wasn't the strange part.

Instead of beady, fishy eyes, theirs were slanted, and they had thick, long whiskers hanging from the sides of their mouths. They reminded me of Chinese wise men from kung fu movies. They swam in circles in the lake, waving their fins and tails like synchronized artistic swimmers. Every turn happened at the exact same angle, fins breaking the surface together. Their tails flicked in unison, sending identical ripples across the water.

When one dipped, they all dipped, bodies tilting as if guided by a single invisible hand. Their whiskers drifted in matching arcs, rising and falling in time with the movement. So far, the two groups ignored each other. The flexing fish-dudes circled the perimeter of the lake, and the Chinese fish circled the lake itself. Both groups pretended the other didn't exist. Each time the swimmers passed close to the shore, the flexers just happened to be facing away.

The swimmers completed another full loop in flawless formation. We just stood on the ledge and watched them. I glanced from the swimmers to the shoreline patrol.

"I can electrocute the water and fry all the swimmers." Al followed the flexing fish with his eyes as they passed, one of them pausing for a slow double bicep pose.

"We first have to show our alignment with the walking fish." Mahya exhaled through her nose, tracking the swimmers as they completed another flawless turn.

"Before that, we need to actually activate the thing."

"Rue fight walking fish after John kill swimming fish," Rue informed us in a forceful tone.

"Rue need fight to be good adventurer." I scratched his ear.

"Don't worry, buddy. You're the best adventurer even when you don't fight anything." He growled and showed me his teeth.

"Rue fight walking fish," he said and punctuated it with a paw stomp. I lifted my hands in surrender.

"Fine. Fine. The walking shark dudes are yours." Mahya and Al nodded in agreement, and Rue's tail finally woke up, going into overdrive. I hovered and touched the water with one foot. Immediately, the two groups turned to face each other. The fish in the water pelted the shark dudes with water bullets. The shark dudes threw spears at the fish. I had to admit that the water bullets were better than mine. Mine were round and compressed.

Initially, I compressed them to a third of their actual size, and that was enough for the crabs in the portal. Later, before crossing the Gate, I trained with them and achieved a compression of a fifth of the size. The fish bullets weren't round. They had a tear shape, with the rounded part flat. They hit the sharks with the pointy end and also spun as they flew. I was so engrossed in the bullets that I didn't notice the rest of the gang flying to stand behind the sharks, choosing a side.

Only when Mahya called my name and made impatient hand gestures did I realize I was alone on the ledge. I joined them on the shore but kept examining the water bullets, tracking the way they spun before hitting the sharks and leaving wounds.

"Yes?" Mahya asked, one eyebrow lifting as another spear flew into the lake and speared a fish. I looked at her, confused, then back at the water as another volley flew.

"What?" She made an inviting gesture at the lake, palm open and expectant, then stepped aside to give me a clear view.

"Your move." I squinted at the water again, watching the next wave of bullets form and launch.

"Give me a couple of minutes; I'm learning something new here." She sighed but didn't object. I kept my eyes on the lake, tracking the bullets for a few more minutes and committing their shape and spin to memory. I also noticed that the spears flew back into the sharks' hands after they speared a fish or missed entirely. By this point, about a third of the fish and a third of the sharks were already dead. The forces were pretty evenly matched.

I walked around the sharks, careful not to get in their way, and raised a hand toward the water. A stream of lightning lashed out and tore into the lake. One fish was mid-jump and didn't get hit, its body arcing above the surface just long enough to clear the strike. It had time to shoot me with a few bullets, but it didn't work out for it. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Water was my domain above all else.

I stopped the bullets mid-flight, felt them strain against my control for a heartbeat, and turned them back toward the offending fish. Its eyes widened enough to look like normal fish eyes, right before it broke into motes of mana and solidified into a scroll that bobbed on the water. And … that was the end of the fish.

The shark dudes hooted and hollered, then all of them flexed dramatically, both arms raised to the sides, then lowered them in front of their bodies, muscles bulging as they held each pose for a beat. Mahya and I laughed. At least she finally got it. Al's lip twitched. That was something. Rue was salivating and dancing in place.

"Let's walk back and give Rue the stage," I said, pointing at the trees. Mahya patted his rump.

"Have fun." We walked to the trees, and by the time I turned around, Rue was in the air, barking his head off in challenge. Two of the sharks threw their spears at him, and the spears vanished. Huh. My dog could store stuff like me, without touching them! The shark dudes didn't like that. They roared as one, sounding mighty pissed about it, and charged. Rue met them head-on. He slammed into the first shark, jaws snapping shut around its torso, then shook it hard enough that its spear clattered into the sand.

Rue flung the limp body aside and was already on the next one. Another spear flew. It disappeared. Rue barreled through the gap it left and grabbed a second shark by the shoulder, yanked it off its feet, and spun, hurling it straight up before letting go. The shark came back down with a wet thwack. Three more rushed him together. Rue leaped, soared over them, and dropped straight down, teeth locking around one head while his weight drove all three into the sand.

He released, rose again, then came down once more, snatching another shark and lifting it screaming into the air before letting gravity finish the argument. Spears kept flying and disappearing into his Storage. A few times, he had the same problem I did with storing multiples, so some flew past, but he twisted away and never got hit. He also stored the spears when they flew back toward the shark dudes. Judging by the hooting growls, they didn't like that even more than when he stored them on the original throw.

Rue zigzagged through the shoreline, barking between strikes, darting up and down, grabbing, shaking, dropping. One shark braced and flexed as Rue hit it full force, dragging it back and shaking it until it stopped moving. Another tried to retreat toward the water. Rue caught it by the leg, hauled it back, and flung it over his shoulder. The last two, he let gravity do the job. He grabbed one leg, lifted the other with Telekinesis, flew 20 meters up, and released.

The sharks hit hard enough to create craters before breaking into motes of mana and solidifying into a scroll. He lifted his head high, howled in victory, and pranced toward us, nose still pointing at the sky. I clapped and whistled. Mahya laughed and joined me. Al gave us a fleeting annoyed look, sighed, and joined the clapping. He still felt the need to inform me telepathically,"I am not whistling." Rue walked back and forth in front of us like a parading horse, nose still pointing at the sky.

After the last pass, he turned to face us, feet planted wide, lifted his nose even higher, and declared,"Rue is the bestest adventurer." I patted him and scratched his ears.

"You are, buddy. You definitely are." The loot, as always, was good. Not usable for me, but still good. Pointy Hydraulic Projectile This is a spell. It knows it is a spell, and it is very proud of being pointy. Mana is collected, persuaded into cohesion, and reminded that water is a perfectly acceptable career choice. The resulting liquid is urged into a forward-focused configuration that favors intent over symmetry, with the rear deliberately stabilized to prevent wandering thoughts.

Once the shape agrees to cooperate, the construct is launched decisively in the direction of its displeasure, encouraged to rotate with enthusiasm so it remains straight, determined, and difficult to argue with on impact. The projectile maintains cohesion until impact, at which point it behaves exactly like fast water should, which is to say, painfully. Spin ensures that the projectile flies straight, resists interference, and makes extremely unfair contact with its target.

Each projectile requires 50 mana units, consumed immediately and without negotiation. Mana is not refunded if the shot misses, feels embarrassed, or decides it would rather be rain. This spell does not explode, splash dramatically, or look impressive unless it hits something important. It is designed for accuracy, efficiency, and reminding enemies that water is not always friendly. Respectable Pointy End Familiarity This is a skill about spears.

Specifically, about knowing which end is supposed to go toward the problem. Upon acquiring this skill, the user develops an instinctive understanding of spear balance, grip, reach, and intent. Thrusts become straighter, throws become less embarrassing, and the spear is far less likely to slip, wobble, or attempt creative interpretations of the user's wishes.

Mana moves through the body in small, well-timed nudges, encouraging better balance, cleaner motion, and the kind of follow-through that suggests the user knows what they are doing, or will soon. The body is gently reminded where it should be, when it should move, and when it should stop interfering. Strikes land more often, and when they do not, it is not due to any failure of the skill. Any missed thrusts, awkward releases, or embarrassing overextensions are recorded entirely as educational moments for the user.

The skill remains blameless, patient, and perfect all around. As proficiency improves, the user learns to guide thrown spears more reliably toward their target and to recover more quickly after missed strikes. This skill does not grant brilliance, flair, or dramatic flourishes. It provides reliability. And reliability, when dealing with sharp objects, is a success. Al held the spell scroll up between two fingers, studying it for a moment.

"Can I claim this?"

"Go ahead," I said. Rue stepped closer and tapped Al's boot with a paw.

"Al is mage. Mage take magic scroll." Mahya lifted the other scroll and gave it a quick glance.

"Want it?" she asked me. I shook my head.

"Don't need it." She frowned at the parchment, turning it once, then again.

"Me neither." After a second, she held it out toward Al.

"Want it?" Al hesitated, eyes flicking between the two scrolls, then nodded and took it. A heartbeat later, his expression soured.

"I will claim this prize as well, provided it will not bar me from claiming other useful rewards."

"It won't," I said immediately. Mahya's mouth twitched, then her eyes lit up with mischief. She tilted her head and smiled sweetly at him.

"Depends on what you consider useful." He thrust the scroll back at her, face gone completely flat.

"I changed my mind." Mahya burst out laughing and clapped him on the back.

"Relax. I'm kidding. Spirits, you're uptight sometimes." He shot her an annoyed glare, then took the scroll back anyway, gripping it a little tighter than necessary. Why did I suddenly feel like a kindergarten teacher?