Chapter 515 - 515 Strange Fish

515 Strange Fish

Philip, unlike the other jubilant crew and passengers, pushed Gozia away whilst ignoring the pain in his back and palms and dashed to the ship’s side, eyes scanning the vast expanse of the sea.

He shifted relentlessly, searching for anything unusual, anything out of place.

Then, a muffled cry pierced the air.

Stunned, he pinpointed the source and sprinted towards the Flying Bird’s bow.

The cry grew louder, more desperate. Philip saw a crimson stain blossoming on the distant blue, a large shadow shifting beneath.

The shadow rapidly materialized into a monstrous fish with four eyes—grayish-blue orbs replacing scales and a terrifyingly sharp mouth.

This wasn’t a small fish. It writhed and thrashed, frantic flicks of its tail sending water droplets flying.

Waves surged around it, reaching heights of five to six meters even without the wind’s aid, crashing down with thunderous force.

The shrill cries subsided momentarily, and the four-eyed monster, gripped by palpable fear, plunged back into the depths, swimming away with a speed that belied its size.

Its remaining brethren followed close behind.

In the first-class cabin 5 by the window, Lumian changed into dry clothes with the casual indifference of someone unobserved.

He knew the Symphony of Hatred had ignited the four-eyed fish’s terror, which is why he opted for a swift “teleport” back instead of leaping into the air and unleashing another devastating attack while the creature surfaced.

Fear would drive the monster away and prevent it from unleashing its full fury and raising further havoc.

“Phew,” Philip breathed, relief washing over him as the four-eyed fish disappeared from sight.

“Thank goodness, thank goodness,” he muttered, his voice filled with gratitude. He spread his arms wide and exclaimed, “Praise the Sun!”

“Do you know that fish?”

A voice suddenly broke the silence beside Philip.

He turned in surprise to see Louis Berry, with his black hair, green eyes, and sharp features, standing beside him.

His lover, Gozia, stood hesitantly at the cabin entrance, wanting to approach but afraid of approaching the shipboard.

“It’s the Mutated Bannerfish. Heh heh, that’s what scholars call it. At sea, they have another name for it—Death Navigators,” Philip answered Lumian’s question, pressing his hand against the shipboard for support.

“Death Navigators? Why haven’t I heard of it?” Lumian asked, genuinely curious.

To be honest, his knowledge of Beyonder creatures was limited. His previous experiences mainly involved dealing with Beyonders, heretics, and Rampagers.

Philip glanced at him, exhaled, and smiled faintly.

“These fish-like creatures have only appeared in recent years. Many sailors call them the sea’s demons.”

Only appeared in recent years… Lumian frowned thoughtfully.

Such descriptions often pointed towards the corruption of evil gods, environmental anomalies, or natural disasters.

“Has it only recently appeared in the Fog Sea, or was there no legend of such a fish in the Five Seas?” Lumian interrupted Philip’s explanation, eager to clarify his doubts.

Philip pondered for a moment before speaking.

“I used to serve in the Fog Sea fleet. Apart from the Fog Sea, I’ve only traveled the North Sea. I don’t know much about the Berserk Sea, the Sonia Sea, or the Polar Sea, but until a few years ago, I never heard any mention of such a strange fish from the crew, pirates, or colleagues from other fleets.”

Could they be fish corrupted by an evil god? Lumian suddenly felt grateful that he hadn’t impulsively tried to eliminate the Mutated Bannerfish.

Not only would it have exposed his Beyonder powers to the many crew members and passengers, but it could have also led to unforeseen dangers. And for what?

A pile of trash that would only be good enough to feed Ludwig!

Seeing that Louis Berry was no longer fixated on the detail, Philip continued, “Mutated Bannerfish appear on fog-free nights, hovering upright as if silently observing the cosmos. Many sailors and pirates have witnessed this sight, believing the fish are summoning an evil entity.

“Think about it. The night sea is pitch black, the crimson moon barely visible, and only starlight illuminates the terrifying, distorted fish heads silently emerging from the water, motionless and arranged in strange patterns… It’s enough to scare anyone!”

Gazing at the cosmos… Could they have been corrupted by an evil god’s power for some reason? Lumian pondered for a few seconds before asking, “Why are they called Death Navigators?”

Philip rubbed his cheeks.

“After surveying the cosmos, the Mutated Bannerfish remain on the surface, forming two lines like an arrowhead that points towards a specific spot in the sea, as if guiding some unknown creature.

“Some pirates, adventurers, and treasure hunters believe this points to valuable items or hidden treasures, so they try to follow the Mutated Bannerfish to see where they lead.

“But none of the ships that attempted this ever returned, and the crew vanished.

“That’s why we call them Death Navigators.”

Philip sighed and continued, “I once heard from sailors that the Death Navigators can control the waves. Judging by what we just saw, this rumor seems very likely, and it’s much worse than I imagined.

“Right, that Mutated Bannerfish must have been relatively powerful even among Death Navigators.

“However, no Death Navigator has ever attacked a human ship before…”

A soft chuckle escaped Lumian’s lips.

“Perhaps they attacked, but no one survived to spread the news.”

Philip was taken aback.

“That’s true. In such a tidal wave, once a ship capsizes or shatters, only those with special abilities would stand a chance.”

He paused and muttered to himself, “Did that troublesome figure provoke the Death Navigators’ attack?”

“It’s possible,” Lumian replied sincerely.

After confirming that the Death Navigators hadn’t returned, Philip turned to the passengers and crew huddled by the window and cabin entrance.

“The danger has passed! The weather has returned to normal!”

The humans, who had cheered earlier, erupted in relieved cries, praising their deities.

Philip looked away and pondered, “Did the Death Navigator ultimately succumb to that unknown threat? I could feel its immense fear.”

“It’s possible,” Lumian replied with the same sincerity.

With this interlude, the Flying Bird increased its speed and arrived at Port Farim, the capital of the Fog Sea Archipelago, before nightfall.

The sun set behind Saint Tick Island, casting a crimson glow over the distant sea, vast forests, and the dormant brown volcano. The sight was magnificent and breathtaking.

Farim, in the native language of the Fog Sea Archipelago, meant “having fragrance and sweetness.” Saint Tick Island was rich in cloves, nutmeg, pepper, and sugarcane. Fruits were mainly bananas and grapes, while the rest of the land was planted with cotton.

Looking at the white-walled, red-roofed buildings lining the coastline, the masts, sails, and smokestacks emitting fog, Lumian chuckled and said, “Emperor Roselle, who named this city back then, probably didn’t expect Farim to become the last bastion of the indigenous language.”

Under generations of cultural genocide, the current Islanders could only speak Intisian. Their native language had been lost long ago.

There might be elders in the primitive tribes living deep within the forest who still understood the indigenous language, but in all the colonial cities and surrounding plantations, one language reigned supreme—Intisian.

Of course, the Fog Sea Archipelago had its own unique dialects, a blend of Intisian and indigenous languages, rarely used by Intisians outside this region.

“Are you disembarking?” Lugano inquired of Lumian.

The Flying Bird wouldn’t be leaving the port until the next afternoon.

“Of course,” Lumian replied with a hint of excitement. “Now that we’re here in Farim, I can’t miss the chance to try their famous Golden Somme! Would you like to lead the way, bringing me and Ludwig around, or would you prefer to stay here and keep an eye on him?”

The Fog Sea Archipelago was known for its superior sugarcane, and the sugar liquor produced from its syrup, called “Golden Somme,” was legendary.

Lugano’s first instinct was to accompany his employer, as he felt safer around Lumian’s capable and decisive presence. However, after a moment of reflection, the Doctor decided it would be wiser to stay on board.

While Lumian was undeniably formidable, his talent for attracting trouble was equally impressive!

Leaving Ludwig with enough food for dinner and two rounds of late-night snacks, Lumian disembarked from the Flying Bird, dressed in a white shirt, a black vest, a dark jacket, and matching pants.

In Trier, it was already early autumn, and the air was crisp with chill. However, the Fog Sea Archipelago seemed to be enjoying the tail end of summer. Though the air was warm, it was quickly dispersed by the refreshing sea breeze.

As Lumian strolled out of the port, he spotted a brown-skinned, wrinkled old woman with black features selling golden straw hats across the street.

These hats were woven from a local plant called Golden Leaves, which was favored by the believers of the Eternal Blazing Sun religion. Wearing one supposedly gave the illusion of having the sun shining directly overhead.

Intrigued by the idea, Lumian purchased a hat for 5 licks and placed it on his head. He then continued his leisurely stroll towards the nearby square.

In the heart of the square stood a Sun Obelisk, surrounded by numerous notices adorned with wanted posters.

Lumian stopped, his hands instinctively slipping into his pockets. Before the sun dipped below the horizon, he scanned the wanted posters and committed the bounties to memory.

“Queen Mystic, one of the maritime kings… Bounty of 100 million verl d’or.

“King of the Five Seas Nast, one of the maritime kings… Bounty of 20 million verl d’or.

“Queen of Stars Cattleya, one of the maritime kings… Bounty of 11 million verl d’or.

“King of Immortality Agalito, one of the maritime kings… Bounty of 4 million verl d’or.

“Queen of Ailment Tracy, one of the maritime kings… Bounty of 3 million verl d’or.

“King of Dusk Bulatov Ivan, one of the maritime kings… Bounty of 2.6 million verl d’or…”

Observing Lumian’s intense scrutiny of the six maritime kings’ wanted posters, an adventurer standing beside him couldn’t resist cracking a joke.

“Looking to hunt the maritime kings, eh?”