Book 2: Chapter 29 (1/2)

“We’re here,” George whispered. He was crouched by a tree, his head barely peeking over the bush in front of himself. A vast yellow shore and blue ocean stretched as far as the eye could see. A dead leviathan lay on the sand, its body half-dismantled. A group of fishmen were hacking away at its body, taking out the bones and organs.

“Are you sure this is the place?” the noble, Evan Lancefell, asked as he squinted ahead. Behind him, a group of adventurers were lying on their bellies, holding their breaths and staying as still as possible.

“There’s no other beach,” George said and frowned. “This is the place.”

“But there’s nothing here? What skeletons? What undead threat?” Evan glanced at George before patting the bag on his waist. Would the fishman really exchange leviathan materials for a prank? Fishmen weren’t like fairies.

“But … they were here…” George stood up and stared at the beach. There weren’t any traces of the combat and struggle that he knew had occurred. “We repelled them? Impossible.” He stepped over the bush and headed towards the fishmen on the shore while shouting, “Hey! I’m back! What happened to the undead?”

The fishmen holding the leviathan materials stopped moving and stared at each other. “Undead?”

“He’s onto us!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll diffuse the situation. Play along.”

One of the fishmen shouted back, “What undead?”

“Oh, it’s crazy ol’ Joe. He’s escaped from his hut again. What did he do this time?”

“We should catch him before he hurts himself like last time.”

George’s face paled as the fishmen charged at him at a speed faster than most fishmen could swim. He made it back to the bush before he was tackled to the ground. As the fishmen proceeded to restrain his limbs, Evan stood up and said, “Stop! What is the meaning of this?”

The fishmen exchanged glances, ignoring the gagged and struggling George. “You are?”

“My name is Evan Lancefell, son of Duke Lancefell, leader of the Shining Stars of Lancefell.” Evan drew his lance from his back. “I’ll have to ask you to unhand my client.”

A red fishman opened his mouth. He spoke with a gravelly voice, “Crazy ol’ Joe’s your client?”

Evan’s brow furrowed. “Crazy ol’ Joe? His name is George.”

The red fishman sighed and clacked his teeth together, making clicking noises. “Poor ol’ Joe. Poor, poor ol’ Joe.” He wiped at his eyes, but Evan didn’t see any tears form on the fishman’s face. “His son was named George, but he died in a terrible, terrible accident out at sea. Joe lost his wife to the same beast a week later. He hasn’t been right in the head ever since.”

The other fishmen nodded in agreement. “It’s true. A month ago, he was planting sea urchins on the beach, trying to grow urchin trees. The month before that, he thought he was the leader of our tribe and made nonsensical rules about wearing pink robes on Fridays. His bouts of insanity are very vivid and real to him. He may seem cohesive when he actually isn’t.”

“I, I see,” Evan said and scratched his head. “Then there’s no undead threat?”

The red fishman blinked twice. “Undead threat? The continent is partially ruled by holy dragons. Why would there ever be undead here?” He sighed. “Is that what Joe told you? Are you adventurers hired by him?”

Evan frowned at the struggling George who was trying to escape the fishmen’s grasp. “Yes. He hired us in return for the leviathan materials.” His gaze landed on the leviathan corpse in the distance. He turned around and said, “You can show yourselves.”

The group of adventurers who were hiding stood up and dusted themselves off. None of them had good expressions on their faces. Evan nodded and faced the group of fishmen. “Shall we have a discussion?”

The red fishman frowned. “Ol’ Joe isn’t capable of thinking straight, but he did offer parts of the leviathan to you. Fishmen are honorable, so we’ll keep his word. Why don’t you all rest here? It looks like you’ve had a long journey. We’ll prepare an unforgettable meal with the leviathan’s flesh.”

“Are you capable of making such a large decision?” Evan asked.