“You’ve been waiting out here,” Thea Fell said. “Did something happen?”
She was in human form now, standing in the monastery’s quiet halls as if they belonged to her—which, in practice, they did.
Her maid, Shirley, lowered her eyes respectfully. “Yes. This morning, the Governor sent the Knight-Commander to ask about your divination.”
At the word Governor, a flicker of hatred crossed Thea’s gaze—sharp, ancient. Then it was gone, replaced by something clever and smiling.
“Tell the Knight-Commander I’ve seen what my father wanted to know,” she said lightly. “I’ll return to the estate soon.”
Governor Ponros Fell ruled Storm Island. The last dragon slayer. A name sung in taverns and carved into official stone.
People praised his technique. His courage. The way he’d ended a terror that had haunted the Endless Sea for generations.
But the dragon slayer was not a dragon’s father.
Thea was a young dragon wearing a dead man’s “bastard daughter” like a mask—patiently waiting for the moment she could twist the knife back.
And with a dragon’s talent for lies, she’d climbed until she was Storm Island’s Grand Diviner.
“Anything else?” she asked.
Shirley handed her a sealed letter. “Bishop Frey of the Violet Goldenflower Chapel is requesting a special herb from the monastery. He says it’s to save a young man.”
Thea skimmed it. No name. No details worth writing down.
She didn’t need them. She’d been on the Jellyfish. She knew exactly who Frey was trying to save.
“If it’s to save a life,” she said, and passed the letter back, “send the herb immediately.”
She made an excuse about further divination and retreated into her meditation room, forbidding interruptions.
Not long after, a black cat slipped out from beneath the monastery’s blue roof.
It padded along the top of the high wall, then dropped into the city’s bustle and disappeared.
***
[SYSTEM] Health restored: +30%.
[SYSTEM] Health restored: +35%.
Ethan froze mid-cast, staring at the notifications like they’d grown teeth.
This wasn’t normal.
Fishing in water restored health—that had been true since the day he awakened. But never like this. Never in a surge.
Before he could even process it, his health bar was full.
He pressed a hand to his chest.
No pain. No tenderness. Not even a scar.
He’d tested the rule: the larger the body of water, the faster the recovery. By that logic, the ocean should’ve been the best possible fishing ground.
So why did a small chapel pond heal him faster than the sea?
His eyes drifted to the murals he’d passed on the way here—gentle scenes, hands raised in blessing, vines and books and lanterns.
The Goddess of Wisdom and Life.
Peaceful, merciful… at least on the walls. Gods were great at marketing themselves.
But the result was real: fishing inside her chapel restored not just health, but life—massive amounts of it.
Ethan’s thoughts clicked into place.
Gods had specialties.
And somehow, his talent could tap them.
For one bright, irresponsible second, he wanted to stay here forever. Camp in the chapel. Fish. Live.
Reality slammed back in.
How was he going to explain this to Bishop Frey?
The old man had already requested rare herbs from the monastery. If they arrived and Frey unwrapped the bandages only to find perfectly healed skin… Ethan couldn’t hide that. He couldn’t even make it sound reasonable.
He sighed. “Great. Another lie.”
The pond glittered under the sun. Ethan kept his rod in the water, maintaining the fishing state even though his health couldn’t climb higher.
He still pulled up odd scraps from time to time—water weeds, sand, a snail, and, more importantly, Water Element Essences.
With the sudden calm, he opened his pack and took inventory.
[PANEL] Inventory—Recent Haul
Empty Crystal Vial x2
Herbal Packet x2
Flint (black revolver)—Tier II Relic (Hunter Aspect)
Alchemy Recipe: Common Fortune Elixir
Dreamleaf x10
Toxin Vial x3 (Paralysis / Hallucination / Rapid Rot)
Artifact: Diviner’s Letter Opener
Circular Silver Mirror (suspected Artifact)
A Tier II Relic. Two Artifacts.
The Relic was straightforward: once he had mithril bullets, Flint would be complete and his contract would be done.
Artifacts were never straightforward. They always asked a price. Ethan refused to experiment without the Peering Eye to inspect them properly.
He moved to the three vials taken from the Veiled.
With Poison Identification, it was easy to tell what they were: one numbed the body, one warped the mind, and one made wounds rot fast. All designed to coat a blade and let chemistry finish the kill.
“Charming,” Ethan muttered, and tucked them away.
He returned to the thing that had been haunting him since last night.
The fortune elixir.
Last night’s version had been “extremely rare.” This recipe was for a “common” one—but it was still a recipe. Not a one-time consumable.
If he learned to brew it, he could keep luck on a leash.
He focused on the formula.
Main ingredient: Water Element Essence.
Auxiliary ingredients: Goldthorn leaves x3; a length of wild grapevine with leaves; an empty crystal vial.
The list looked deceptively simple.
The main ingredient wasn’t a problem. Even after paying Thea ten Essences, he still had stock—and fishing kept producing more.
What he lacked was knowledge.
He didn’t know what goldthorn looked like. He wouldn’t recognize wild grapevine from a decorative hedge.
He needed to learn. A lot.
As that thought settled, another prompt flashed into view.
[ITEM] You obtained: Enchanting Scroll—”Peering Eye” Inscription Formula.
Ethan’s breath caught.
The Peering Eye… and not the spell itself, but the way to write it into the world.
A new plan formed—quiet, sharp, and hungry.