84 Vol 2. pt. 21 Patch 4.0: The First Round (1/2)
”Fen!” Serra calls for help as a particularly powerful fish tugs on her line.
Fenrir goes to hand his rod off to Oleander, but before he can help Serra, Tabitha steps in by placing her hands over Serra's.
Serra goes from looking like the rod is about to fly out of her hands to acting as if the fish isn't even trying to escape.
Yeah, he definitely does not have to have any thoughts about protecting Tabitha as a father would. If anything, she'd be the one protecting him!
”Let me see,” Bonekraka says from behind the two girls.
”We don't need your oversized green arse over here,” Tabitha tells him.
”I doubt fish that strong if two small girls handling it,” he replies with an unimpressed tone.
Seeing him doubt her is enough for Tabitha to tell Serra to hand the rod over.
Bonekraka is almost pulled off his feet the moment he grabs the rod! ”What fucking fish is this?!” he shouts as he braces himself against the side of the ship.
”Even Serra wasn't having that much trouble. Wonder if having a higher fishing skill helps out with that,” Fenrir says.
”Shut up! Take this back you orange brat!” he shouts at Tabitha.
With the smuggest smile that any of them have ever seen, Tabitha takes the rod out of his hands and effortlessly resumes reeling the fish in with Serra.
Bonekraka grumbles and heads below deck.
”I think you hurt his pride a bit, Tabs,” Fenrir says.
”Good! I can't stand punks with inflated egos. Somebody's gotta bring 'em down a notch, and I'll be here to bring yours down whenever it needs dropped!” Tabitha declares.
”Do you think I've got an inflated ego?”
”Not after yesterday.”
”Oof,” Oleander chimes in.
”Yeah, that one hurt a bit,” Fenrir agrees. As much as he feels he should be upset by that remark, seeing Tabitha smile and laugh so heartily causes him to laugh at himself instead.
”She has a point. You usually can't shut up about your old days and how awesome you were and how nobody ever beat you,” Cassiel says.
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She has a point. One of his go-to conversation topics has always been the old days of the Divine Brigade and how he used to lead them. Even so, ”I – I think Tabs already put me in my place,” he says.
”Dogs shouldn't have big egos,” Serra says.
”I think you might be in an abusive relationship, Fenny,” Oleander says while patting Fenrir's back.
A hard tug on Fenrir's fishing pole pulls his attention away from the bullying and back to fishing.
Roughly thirty minutes have passed since the start of the first round. Without a better job to perform, Oleander has been taking any fish that the four have been catching and placing them in whatever barrels and crates that they've got. Only nine fish have been caught thus far. Despite the swarming schools of fish underneath their boats, they seem reluctant to take any bait or lures offered to them.
A feeling that this tournament is more about the player-versus-player aspects than the fishing aspects is growing within Fenrir by the minute.
Looking out over the waters before them, it looks as if hundreds of ships already sank or are in the process of sinking as their crews either jump overboard or go do with their vessels.
One ship grabs Fenrir's attention.
It is one of those longships that arrived with Ull. Fenrir didn't hear about any of the foreign visitors participating in the tournament, but it makes sense that some would since they're already here. What grabs his attention the most is that they're not even fishing.
Those aboard the longship are covered from head to toe in metal armor and armed with axes, spears, and shields. Fenrir watches as they go from ship to ship boarding them, slaughtering any in their way, and then stealing any fish that their victims have caught.
The maximum amount of allowed members are part of their crew as well – twenty. Twenty Viking-esque elves and monster hybrids in full combat attire are decimating other crews without mercy. One cannon shot flies right through the side of their ship, but the tree that is twisted into the shape of a ship quickly regrows its hull.
…
”Yer champs down there are damn impressive,” Blackstache says to Ull as he watches the longship through a spyglass.
”They are, aren't they? I hand selected them to represent me in this tournament. Truthfully, a single one of them would likely be enough to cut down any opposition most of the vessels down there have to offer, but the more the merrier. It would not be very nice of me to only allow one of my men to have all the fun,” Ull explains.
”Your ships are made out of trees. Wouldn't fire burn them to ashes?” Rachel asks, standing behind Blackstache with her arms crossed over her chest and an unimpressed look in her eyes.
”It is a good thing that you are the Lightning Witch and not the Fire Witch, then. Besides, all ships are made out of trees, are they not?” Ull teases, flashing her a smile.
She responds with an annoyed frown.
”But yes, conventional weaponry may not be effective against my fleet, but fire remains the bane of all ships,” Ull continues.
Blackstache excitedly gets out of his seat and says, ”Speakin' o' fire…”
…
A bolt of flame crashes right into the longship's tree-mast! It erupts into a shower of flames that ignites the longship at several locations.
”Looks like they're done,” Fenrir says to the rest of the crew whom has joined in watching the conflict.
The caster who ignited the longship has their head lopped off by one of the axe-wielding boarders.
”Taking the enemy out with him. Wait, what're they doing?” Fenrir asks.
One of Ull's men stands at the front of the longship and holds his hands up above his head. Fenrir can't tell what he's saying, but he looks as if he's shouting something.
It doesn't take long to realize his intent.