Chapter Eighteen: The Fishman

Morning.

On a hillside outside the small town.

A solitary figure was crawling, leaping, and doing push-ups while carrying a massive log on his back.

He was undergoing various exercises.

“Your Highness, really not taking a break?” Alaris asked anxiously from nearby.

Kana smiled again and shook his head. “No need to worry, Alaris. I’m not tired yet, so rest assured. You’ve seen my stamina before—it’s quite good, isn’t it?”

“But, but—”

“Trust me, it’s fine.”

But the issue wasn’t simply about stamina. Who trains like this? It seemed like self-inflicted torture. He might not even grow stronger before his body started to suffer various problems.

That was Alaris’s greatest worry.

Continuing this regimen would bring internal issues to the forefront.

What Alaris didn’t know was that these aftereffects simply did not exist for Kana.

Muscle strains? Organ overload? Joint injuries?

What were those? They didn’t exist.

This body was no longer frail.

Though fatigue could still be felt, it was very subtle, constantly lingering at this slight level.

He hadn’t even reached the point where he was gasping for breath.

A body quantified by data doesn’t mean it never tires or exhausts physical strength; it just vastly extends the reserves of stamina.

On his personal attribute status bar, there was no negative status of fatigue.

It wasn’t until noon that Alaris finally stopped trying to intervene.

Clearly, Kana’s body was somewhat different.

Otherwise, at this intensity, it would be beyond willpower; the body would have shut down by itself.

“Is this really okay?” Blake, who had been watching from a distance, couldn’t help but ask.

Next to him, another knight, Lyra, said, “Probably. Maybe it’s just a naturally good constitution—after all, he’s royalty.”

They knew a little about the situation.

At this moment, Kana finished his continuous morning training.

Sitting beside Alaris, he asked, “Alaris, at your stage, is training no longer necessary?”

All morning, he had only seen Alaris warming up slightly and then continuously worrying about him.

Alaris nodded. “Yes. Once you become a full-fledged knight, training doesn’t have much effect anymore.”

“And after that?”

“After that?” Alaris looked puzzled.

“How do you improve your strength then?”

“By fighting, honing skills.”

Hearing this, Kana fell into thought.

He suddenly realized that for all melee classes, before reaching level three, the skills were mostly straightforward without special powers.

Shield bash, cleave, leap strike, charge, and the like.

After level three, clearly special-effect skills appeared—skills with unique abilities.

Bloody slash, stomp, anti-magic shield, and so forth.

That meant pure physical attributes hit a limit at level three; beyond that, special power was needed.

“Then you should seriously consider how to awaken that power within you,” Kana said.

That power being blood magic.

All royal family members possessed it; Alaris was, in fact, the product of her mother’s experiments.

In the game’s storyline, Alaris’s personal plot and the origin story of the bloodline practically hinted at this.

“The count has told me about it, but I might need some more time,” Alaris said, looking at her palm.

She could feel a different sensation inside her body—like she could control it, yet couldn’t.

“No rush. Take your time; we still have a bit of time,” Kana said with a smile, patting her shoulder.

The two of them left and rejoined Blake and the others, heading back to the town.

After a meal and a stroll through the town, Kana headed straight toward the riverbank.

They arrived at a river bend where the water flowed gently.

The river was very wide; the far shore was barely visible.

Here, the river bend felt almost like a lake.

Several small fishing boats were moored by the shore, with nets drying nearby.

A few fishermen were gathered along the riverbank, engaged in some activity.

“Damn it, Old Peter, how did you catch a fishman?” one grumbled.

“I didn’t catch it; the thing ran into the net itself. I thought I’d caught a big fish. These little monsters are so annoying.”

“Better let it go, or those fishmen will start bothering us again. We won’t have peace to fish for months.”

“I lost a small boat recently. Could those fishmen have stolen it?”

“Fishmen don’t need boats, you fool.”

“Then should we just kill it? They wouldn’t know. But if we let it go, what if they say we caught it?”

Upon hearing this, the group seemed to find some logic and began considering the matter.

“What are you doing?” Blake suddenly asked.

The sudden voice startled them.

They looked nervously and saw several knights, then quickly lowered their heads.

Old Peter hurried to explain, “Sirs, we’ve caught a fishman in the net.”

He stepped aside.

Inside the net behind them, a fishman struggled, tugging at the mesh while muttering curses.

The fishman was very short, with stubby limbs and a single head with protruding eyes that looked rather dim-witted.

Its skin was mottled gray with blue speckles.

In the sunlight, its body shone slightly, coated in a slimy membrane.

“Since it’s accidental, just let it go. We have no conflict with the fishmen across the river,” Blake declared.

He had known about the fishmen on the opposite shore since childhood.

They didn’t rely on this river for food, and the fishmen lived on the other side; both sides coexisted peacefully for over ten years.

Moreover, they had overheard what the fishermen intended to do.

“Let it go. There won’t be much trouble. Killing it will only cause unnecessary problems.”

Old Peter nodded hastily. “Yes, we were selfish. You are kind, sir.”

“Stop staring and release it.”

The fishermen quickly opened the net and freed the fishman.

The fishman hopped on the spot, loudly cursing, clearly angry.

After shouting a few phrases, it turned and walked into the water.

A blue-spotted fishman—there were actually fishmen here.

But it made sense—this wasn’t yet a dead zone like in later parts of the story.

Kana recalled that the fishmen living by the novice village coast were from this tribe.

Thinking of something, Kana called out, “Wait!”

But the fishman didn’t understand, not turning back, walking deeper into the river.

“Gulak kwa!”

A strange cry sounded. The fishman seemed to understand and paused, turning its head.

Its large eyes revealed confusion.

“Kwalee gujira!” Kana shouted, waving his arms wildly.

The fishman appeared to grasp something and came back.

Amid the bewildered, confused, and shocked gazes of everyone present,

Man and fishman began to converse in a flurry of gestures and sounds.

“Pft!”

Alaris finally couldn’t hold it in, turning away as her shoulders shook.

After a while of animated gesturing,

Kana stood up and nodded.

“I’ve talked it over with him,” he said, turning to Old Peter. “Would you mind giving us a ride to the other side?”

Old Peter shook his head repeatedly. “It’s my honor. Please follow me, sirs.”

He hurried off to prepare.

Alaris and the others gave Kana and the fishman strange looks as they glanced around nervously.

“What’s wrong?”