Haste Hastens the Wedding
Because they'd rushed things, Argin's wedding date was set much sooner than expected, and Eltis began putting him through grueling daily training. At first, it was little more than beatings disguised as practice, but true to his prodigious talent, Argin quickly adapted. In just a few days, he was replicating the vampire royal swordsmanship and their unique techniques, modified for human use.
That matter seemed all but settled. But I had another, far more pressing issue of my own: the Full Fish that Bastet wanted to eat. Since a goddess had expressed a craving, I had to procure one if at all possible. I couldn't help wondering why she didn't fetch it herself—did eating even mean anything to a god? Kutula occasionally accepted human sacrifices and devoured people, but that hardly seemed about the taste. Bastet, though? She definitely ate for flavor. The way she purred and mewled over tuna made that clear.
Still, scouring all my accumulated knowledge turned up nothing on Full Fish. There was only one person to ask in a pinch: Setas.
"Do you know what a Full Fish is?"
"It's a legendary fish."
A fish after all. And since Setas knew of it, it must have existed in his world.
"From your world?"
"Yeah. It's said to have gone extinct ages ago—a phantom species, though I've seen records of it. Supposedly delicious."
"Phantom species?"
"Yeah. That's what they call creatures so rare people question if they even exist. But a few have actually been sighted, and Full Fish is one of them."
I glanced up at Bastet perched on Setas's head. [It's here.] Her eyes conveyed volumes: That's what they say. Even in that world, it was that rare. Does this one even exist here?
She confirmed it did. Then I had no choice—I'd have to catch one.
"Tell me more about Full Fish."
"Well, it's been ages since I read about it, and there wasn't much info to begin with. From what I remember: caught in both freshwater and the ocean, pretty big—maybe just under two meters. Scales with seven rainbow colors. And incredibly tasty. That's why it's called Full Fish: packed with every flavor imaginable."
Every flavor? Didn't that mean it would taste awful too? Bitter, sour, all that?
Way too vague. Even knowing they existed, I'd never heard of anyone catching a fish matching that description. If it wasn't in freshwater here, then the ocean—but this world's seas were vast. I'd flown clones over them for over a year without seeing the end.
"This might take a while, Bastet."
I sought her permission upfront. Not a day or two; it could drag on for years. She flicked her tail indifferently, as if it didn't matter.
As I turned to head out, Setas added, "Oh, right—it only appears during a full moon."
Did that even make sense? A fish that lived in the water, only surfacing under a full moon?
"Not a normal fish, then?"
"No idea. It went extinct centuries before I was born—or maybe humans just can't find them anymore. That's the nature of phantom species."
I redirected most of my clones near the seas. At least I only had to watch during full moons; not too burdensome.
Months passed that way, but I didn't find so much as a scale.
Dibip, the former guard, applied for a new job. He'd already mastered everything from basic schooling. He could handle simple clerical work now. Akasha Territory always suffered from a chronic shortage of office staff, so no need for my direct approval—the underlings handled it.
Once approved, Dibip beamed with joy. His fellow guards, now close comrades, congratulated him sincerely.
Climbing the ladder for his final watchtower shift, Dibip gazed out over Akasha Territory, lost in thought. A drizzle fell, stirring his emotions. He stepped out from the post into the rain, poncho and all. The cold night drops on his face dredged up the past.
He shook his head, banishing old memories, and focused on tomorrow's hopes. Then a spike of pain pierced his mind like an awl.
"Uh... ah!"
The agony choked his words. Clutching his head, Dibip collapsed onto the slick, frigid watchtower floor, tears streaming—not from the pain.
"How'd it come tah this! Not like... not like this!"
His dialect-slurred voice, thick with sorrow, rang out loud despite the struggle. A guard from the nearby tower heard him scream and collapse, shouting in alarm. Dibip blacked out.
Days later, when Dibip awoke, I was there. I'd seen him fall. Sensing something amiss, I'd rushed over—too late. Then I watched his power awaken.
It must have been like what I felt just before my execution, or Howard before turning beastkin. Dibip's soul glowed golden—a sign of something extraordinary.
"You with us?"
"L-Lord... Viscount?"
He bolted upright before I could reassure him. Good—no physical issues.
"Bit early to ask after just waking, but... feel anything new?"
"Not sure, milord."
I'd jumped the gun. Freshly awakened powers don't come with manuals.
"Fair enough. Already cleared an extended leave since you spoke—rest up, and report to me directly if anything happens."
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
I left him bowing and returned to my routine. Awakening didn't mean babysitting. I'd keep watch regardless.
Dibip, never truly ill, waived his leave and dove into his dreamed-of desk job. Nothing grand—just the simplest paperwork at the admin office. But he looked blissful.
Even awakened talents might go unrealized till death. If Dibip stayed happy like this, that was fine by me.
Meanwhile, I hunted Full Fish and refined the records—still no breakthroughs. No frustration, though.
Then I visited the western witches' village. Melania, the great witch and prophet, had summoned me. Whether she sensed my watch or foresaw it, she called when alone, and I appeared as requested.
"Even without you, I wouldn't turn against the witches for no reason."
"I know."
She was dying. No healing power could fix this; she'd simply exhausted her human lifespan. She knew it too.
"Please look after Nivea. That's why I presumptuously called on you, Saint."
"Is Nivea the next great witch?"
Plenty of elder witches with experience. Appointing the still-young Nivea?
Not my business.
"That's part of it, but I mean something else."
"A prophecy?"
"Yes."
Leading the western witches as a young great witch might require my aid.
"Got it. I promise."
The western witches were a formidable group. With resolve, they could swallow a small kingdom. That's why I monitored them—to ensure they didn't stray. A quick assist in tough spots was nothing.
"Thank you."
Melania smiled kindly, breathing raggedly.
"Looks like my time has come."
Her eyes slowly closed. I said nothing. Soon, her breath stopped.
I'd unwittingly witnessed her passing. Praying sincerely for her peace, I absorbed her soul. Beyond her prophetic gift, her wisdom shone brightest. Uniting persecuted witches across the continent into a peaceful haven—that was her legacy. I hoped to glean even a fraction of it.
I returned to the territory at once. Lingering risked false accusations of murder. Contrary to my fears, Melania's preparations and unshakeable trust ensured Nivea smoothly inherited leadership.
Guided by elder witches, Nivea led far better than expected.
Then Argin and Eltis's daughter Violette wed. Rushed before her belly swelled, it lacked the noble turnout of Jayke or Wider's weddings. Argin preferred it that way—fewer nobles clinging to him covertly.
I considered a month-long capital dispatch like Jayke's, but with the baby growing, I granted leave instead and fetched elven prenatal herbs for Violette.
Months later, I finally spotted it: under the full moon at its zenith, a massive fish with rainbow scales leaping from the water.
Not the sea—the lake at the Great Forest's heart. Near Howard's old haunt; I'd explored its depths with him as a soul. No Full Fish then, I swore.
I teleported the instant I saw it leap—but too late. Even the clone that pursued it lost it right before our eyes. Vanished.
This wasn't normal. No beastkin, no creature. Like the phoenix long ago.
After, I asked Howard if he'd seen Full Fish.
"Oh yeah, seen it a few times."
"You have?"
Wasted months—I should've asked him sooner.
"Yup, but never caught it. Way too fast."
Fast didn't cover it. It ceased existing in this world.
Maybe like Emperor Yujin, it crossed dimensions. Better I eat it than hand it to Bastet? At least snag a bite.
Next chance: a month away. No letting it slip.
But tricky. It could dimension-hop at will. Needed a solid plan.
Pondering strategies, a report came from Dibip: he'd figured out his new power.
I'd watched closely but sensed nothing. Time to meet him.
"So, you've got a handle on your ability?"
"Yes, milord."
His face brimmed with uncharacteristic confidence.
"What is it?"
"Better to show than tell. But it's a bit cramped here."
We moved to the mansion's rear training yard—once Jayke and Argin's spot, now abandoned after noise complaints.
"Here goes."
Standing at the yard's center, a familiar aura rose faintly from Dibip.