Chapter 56: The God of Sea and Life
Three days after a merchant ship set sail from Atillain Harbor, its return threw the entire port into an uproar.
Ships coming back early due to trouble weren't exactly rare, but neither were they commonplace. What made this different—what drew everyone's attention—was the rumor spreading from those who'd witnessed the vessel's condition.
Just three days prior, the ship had been blessed by the local mage tower with speed-enhancing spells and equipped with Atillain's newest magical cannons before departing. Now, it limped back in ruins, and the townsfolk couldn't stop talking about it wherever they gathered.
"They say it got hit the moment they ventured into deeper waters—like the pirates were lying in wait."
"What about the mercenaries? Weren't they with Vortex Boltek, the famous one?"
"Even a top mercenary can't do much if the ship's sinking out from under him."
"This is bad. These pirates are stronger than we thought. That ship was wrecked so badly it could've gone down any second, yet it barely made it to port."
People who'd seen it dock pointed out the massive coral harpoon embedded in the hull and the claw marks where something had scaled the side, fueling the gossip.
For ordinary folk, it was just exciting chatter. But for those tasked with defending against pirates, every scrap of solid info mattered.
The captain of the returning Golden Dolphin gave his terrified account to the knight investigating him.
"The five ships we sailed with were armed to the teeth—way more than necessary, by my reckoning."
Merchants insured against every mishap imaginable, but no one had thought to cover pirate attacks foretold by prophecy. Premiums rose with every new clause, and no insurer had anticipated a god predicting raids. So, when the port lockdown extended their contracts, they had to pay hefty penalties. Captains gritted their teeth, forked over the cash, and armed up.
Pooling funds for the strongest mercenaries they could hire, they set sail with newfound confidence. Hiring the legendary mercenary Vortex Boltek—who'd slain sea monsters the size of ships single-handedly with his spear—and mounting Atillain's finest magical cannons had them brimming with bravado. Eager to make up lost time, they pushed hard.
This setup could even turn the tables on pirates, they'd thought—right before the attack hit.
"We had three or four men in the crow's nest scanning the horizon. Useless."
The captain stared at his feet, voice trembling with fear.
"The pirates came from under the sea. Can you imagine? They surged up from the depths before we could even fire a cannon. It was hand-to-hand from the start."
The pirate ship he described was a nightmare. In waters littered with wrecks from countless sinkings, the hulks had fused over centuries into a colossal mass of barnacles and coral. Teeming with pirates, it birthed tentacles that gripped their hulls. Pirates swarmed up those tentacles, swung from ropes of woven kelp off tilted masts, even swam from half-submerged sections and clambered aboard.
They overran the deck like ants on a corpse. Boltek fought valiantly, true to his fame, but his monster-slaying spear was a mere spoon against a flood of foes.
In that chaos, the captain made the right call: the instant the pirate ship surfaced, he whipped the bow around and fled for port. His vessel had paid the least for mercenaries, trailed at the rear, and dumped cargo for speed—barely escaping. Still, a harpoon from the enemy nearly sank them, and boarders who'd swum up claimed many crew lives.
Terror etched the captain's face as he spoke. Leaving him soaked in cold sweat like he'd fallen overboard, the knights stepped outside and sighed.
"This is trouble. A submersible pirate ship? How do we even find it?"
"Size is the real issue. Even accounting for shock, the captain said its diameter exceeded four full-rigged ships. Packed with pirates? That's a horde."
Meanwhile, at a seaside warehouse, a naval knight examined a harpoon from the pirate ship and pirate corpses, grimacing at the foul stench and grotesque forms.
"These... human?"
As a knight overseeing Atillain's warships, he'd encountered many sea races—but nothing this repulsive.
Mermaids, fishfolk, sirens, harpies—he knew them all. But these bodies resembled none. How to even write the report? As both knight and ship commander, he had to document future foes, but this was uncharted territory. Tactics existed for mermaids or fishfolk; for unknowns, zilch.
Do it well, no complaints. Botch it, face endless grilling. No choice now.
"Record the appearance first."
The first corpse wore human-style pants below, but its torso bristled with crustacean shells and barnacles. One eye was fish-like cylinder, the other human orb. Webbed feet bore razor claws.
The second sprouted tentacles everywhere, suckers on hands and feet, head boneless and jelly-like.
All looked like botched human-to-sea-beast hybrids. The knight felt instinctive revulsion.
"No wonder the gods warned us."
Swallowing disgust, he jumped at a voice beside him.
"Who are you?"
Suhyun, sent by Aurelia to inspect the pirates, greeted him amiably.
"Hello. Suhyun, mage here at the princess's request to examine these pirates."
In the reek of rotting seafood and land flesh, Suhyun smiled casually. The knight replied awkwardly.
"Naval Knight Eruna Pirek of Atillain's Second Fleet, the Blue Swordfish. Know anything about their race?"
Hoping a mage might offer tactical insights, Eruna pressed. Suhyun, sensing a junior officer's plight, looked sheepish.
"They're probably human. Originally, anyway."
"Human?"
Eruna blinked at the inhuman corpses.
He'd heard of web-footed deep-divers or flexible, boneless-like humans—but this?
"Precisely: formerly human. Know the difference between martial arts, magic, and blessings?"
Caught off-guard, Eruna—ever dutiful amid his side task—thought hard.
"Martial arts through the body, magic through the mind, blessings from gods?"
The trio enabling superhuman feats was famed, but distinctions blurry. All seemed impossible without prior knowledge; methods differed, results overlapped.
Example: igniting a sword against fire-weak foes. All three allowed it, differently.
Martial arts: grueling training—like eating scorching food, gripping a flaming blade amid fire, dancing sword forms sunup to sundown. Then, specific breaths and moves wreathe a plain blade in flame.
Magic: infuse mystery of fire and mana—done.
Martial/magic: effort yields intent. Blessings? Pure RNG. Faith chosen; boon random. Devote to fire god for flaming sword? Might get fire immunity, fire-breath, spear-flame instead.
"Why bring that up now?"
Eruna asked Suhyun, who grew grave.
"This is a blessing."
"A blessing?"
Eruna gaped at the monstrosities. Half-formed sea beasts? More curse than gift.
"Gods don't care much about human looks. Ever hear how mishandling livestock young taints it with human scent, so the mother rejects it?"
"Yeah."
"Humans see no visual change, but scent-discriminating beasts sense contamination. Gods? They perceive beyond sight—might not see this as 'changed'."
Eruna clutched his sea god medallion—family faith since childhood, tithed before every sortie. The church suddenly felt alien.
"Don't worry, not all gods. They know the livestock analogy, so registered imperial gods avoid form-altering blessings usually."
"You know gods well for a mage."
"Worked with priests once. Learned plenty."
"So the pirates..."
"Worship unregistered gods, likely. No malice intended."
"No malice?"
Eruna blurted disbelief, then recalled this mage was Aurelia's envoy. "S-sorry."
"No offense. I'd doubt it too. But don't judge gods by human standards."
Suhyun pulled catalysts from his robe, magicking the corpses: blessing manifestation, divinity direction, matching known gods.
"Find anything?"
"Roughly: God of Sea and Life."
"God of Sea and Life bestows this?"
Evocative name—bountiful seas, safe fishing. Yet horrors birthed? Eruna stared skeptically.
"Why not? Grants sea life forms to humans."
"I'd pass. Anyone would."
"Sadly, ignores human aesthetics."
Suhyun extracted divinity samples, took blood/tissue, stored them, and exited.
"Oh, right."
Eruna, forgetting to ask countermeasures, scrambled to note Suhyun's words. Better safe than scolded—move fast.