Demi-human Girls Completion Manual
Chapter 456 - 22. Struggle

Chapter 456: 22. Struggle

At midday, Valentina took her subordinates and departed the island situated in the Southern Ocean aboard the flagship, setting sail back to the Northern Realm.

According to what she had said before, she had arrived here relying on her own relic, the Moon Princess, and her research on the Grey Bird Species’ tombs. Alagina, although she had found the island thanks to the Ice Prince she carried, it was merely a wonderful coincidence. She stopped only to repair the steam engine on the Iceberg Queen, and incidentally to catch some fish.

In the following days, Fisher, relying on his ability to breathe underwater, caught a lot of fish. He held a large net, motionless in the fishes’ inevitable path, while also listening to Emhardt’s boasting of past stories from above the water. Then, when the fish swam past, he would suddenly explode into action and catch them with the net. This method proved unfailingly successful, yielding a full catch each time.

The surrounding fish had submitted to Fisher, the old hand. Every day they would see him in the water, and every encounter would quickly result in a bunch of their kin being captured by the merciless net in his hands.

"Do you really not know how you were forged by the angels?"

"Rubbish, if no one else told you, would you know how you came from your mother’s womb? Moreover, since I left the Holy Land and until I developed a true consciousness, so many years have elapsed... The Holy Descendants are among the oldest races in this world, without exception. They have lived through many era changes, which is how they acquired an aesthetic and craftsmanship far beyond any other race."

"Even Paimon was deeply conquered by the civilization of the Holy Descendants, otherwise, she wouldn’t obediently study the aesthetics of the Holy Descendants and secretly collect so many of their holy objects..."

Fisher dragged the fishing net slowly towards the coast, listening to Emhardt’s gripes and feeling there was some truth to them, even though the guy’s metaphors were a bit rough, the basic logic was the same.

The loss of the relic creation technique was a fact; many humans in the past were intoxicated with the miraculous effects of relics and wanted to replicate their complete production process, but obviously, they all failed in the end.

What truly puzzled Fisher was why Mu Xi knew how to create relics, and where she learned this skill.

According to Moli’s statement, Mu Xi had already learned to create relics before she left the sea trench to go ashore, even making a hairband to guide the young Moli home.

Emhardt had told him that the Holy Descendants would not share the method of creating relics, and besides, even if they were inclined to teach, it was not certain that one could learn. Even Paimon, that extremely clever Great Demon, failed to learn and had to leave the Holy Land dejectedly.

By Fisher’s estimation, the strength of an adult Whale-man was strong, but not yet at a Mythical Rank. Nevertheless, as the Ocean Emperor, Xuan Can seemed far beyond the typical Mythical Rank. This left Fisher puzzled, as he had too little contact with living creatures of higher ranks, in all, just two, and did not feel confident comparing them.

But Mu Xi could definitely not reach the Mythical Rank, otherwise, he would not have been a match against Blake, who had been implanted with Mu Xi Meat.

Thus, Mu Xi, who was merely of the Extraordinary Rank, could not possibly have learned the skill of relic creation directly from the Angel Species. It was more likely that she learned it from some place after they had disappeared...

Where could that place be?

Fisher undeniably coveted the knowledge of making relics. As a scholar, he had a natural desire to unveil the secrets of long-buried history and skills, second only to his love for ladies.

"Never mind, let’s not talk about the Angel Species anymore. Every time you just praise them, saying how great the Holy Descendants are, my ears are developing calluses, and moreover, I don’t get any useful information..."

"Nonsense! Everything I’ve said is a fact! They are that grand! You humans don’t understand anything, so don’t spout nonsense! No arguing back! If you do, I am still right! Otherwise, I’m going to get angry! You’re making me so anxious!"

Fisher glanced at Emhardt, fuming and turning circles in place in powerless rage, and realized that if he wanted to rile up Emhardt in the fastest way possible, he just had to speak ill of the Angel Species in front of him and express doubts about their aesthetics and craftsmanship; he would definitely be the most agitated.

Ignoring him, Fisher just dragged the large fishing net to the side of the small boat. After a quick glance at the quantity of fish inside, plus the ones caught earlier, he felt it should be sufficient for the upcoming days; although, due to the Ice Prince, they wouldn’t go bad on the Iceberg Queen, taking up too much space was also inappropriate.

"Mr. Fisher, this is our catch from the morning."

"Just put it here, thank you for your hard work."

Fisher took a sip from the water bottle brought down from the Iceberg Queen, glancing at the crew member who had come up behind him, also holding several bags of fish. Although she was from the Sardinia Female Country, she politely averted her eyes from Fisher, not ogling his clothes moistened by seawater or the muscles beneath.

It wasn’t just out of respect for Fisher and Alagina; the most important thing was, for the past few days, Fisher had been very diligent at work and knew a lot. He not only liked to speak himself but also enjoyed inquiring about the life in the Northern Realm and the situation of Feudal Kingdoms... Hmm, it’s just that for some reason, his topics always revolved around the demi-human race.

However, upon learning that Fisher was a scholar who studied the demi-human race, all their doubts were set aside.

In the eyes of these female countrywomen, Fisher’s image was somewhat contradictory; he seemed like someone who was both capable of hard work, an image of a dutiful husband and good father, yet also carried a sense of dominance that differed from the frail males of the Female Country. This caused the long-standing stereotypes in their hearts about males and females from other lands to diminish significantly, and they even thought about trying to find men from other countries.

But it seemed that men from other countries preferred cleaner and more gentle women, like the captain, perhaps?

"Alright, these fish should be enough now, we can go back. Once the engine on the ship is fixed, we can depart..."

"No problem... Wait, Mr. Fisher, the Second Officer is flying this way."

"Second Officer?"

Hearing the crew’s reminder, Fisher turned his head to look up at the sea surface, only to see Ossie with her wings spread out, unknowingly leaving the mast of the Iceberg Queen and flying in this direction.

Fisher had thought she was coming over to ask about the catch or to call them back for lunch. He had been considering how to coax Ossie down from the mast to study her, as she was the Iceberg Queen’s Second Officer and a bit of a social recluse, spending her days aloof on the mast, which made it somewhat difficult to approach her.

"Mr. Fisher..."

"What’s the matter?"

Ossie’s figure landed on the edge of the small boat. Barely catching her breath, her mouth covered by a cloak delivered a soft yet completely clear sentence,

"You... The blonde girl you brought on board, she’s got into a fight with the crew..."

"Got into a fight?"

Fisher raised an eyebrow and it took a full second before the image of Isabella, the youngest princess of the Gedelin Royal Family, crouching vulnerably in the corner of the demon wood ship, came to mind...

And Ossie was saying she got into a fight with the crew of the Sardinia Female Country?

...

...

"What the hell is going on here?!"

Pahetz’s face, usually jolly and smiling, became fierce like a raging tiger when truly angered, and her thundering voice, akin to a roar from the deep forest, made one subconsciously cover their ears and cower.

At this moment, on the deck of the Iceberg Queen, she was furiously berating a crew member. The crew member hung her head slightly but maintained an erect posture, hands clasped behind her back motionless. Hearing Pahetz’s roar, her short hair shook as if it were vibrated by the sound.

"Chief Officer, I..."

The chastised female soldier raised her head slightly, revealing her face with just a hint of color and a small bruise beneath the socket of her eye, with more noticeable scratch marks, though the overall injuries were not too severe, her expression just a bit sheepish.

"Don’t call me Chief Officer! Call me Captain! Stand at attention!"

"Yes, Captain!"

Even though they had left the Sardinia Female Country, the shadow of military discipline still lingered in their hearts. At the sound of Pahetz’s roar, the chastised crew member instantly straightened up.

"What does military discipline say? Have you all forgotten?! How dare you engage in personal combat, and with a guest on board no less! Are you trying to start a mutiny?!"

"Reporting! No, Captain!"

The crew member actually had other words to say in defense but stood still, not moving, and listened to Pahetz’s scolding. A soldier never interrupts while a captain is speaking.

Behind Pahetz, with her right hand wrapped in a bandage, Alagina’s face was cold. She glanced at the cabin below the deck and heard the sound of wings flapping. Turning her head toward the mast overhead, Ossie had returned there and nodded in her direction.

Sure enough, the next second Fisher’s voice came from the side of the deck,

"What’s going on? Ossie told me Isabella had a conflict with your crew?"

Alagina nodded, walking up to Fisher who was climbing onto the deck, and spoke to him,

"Yes, but it’s been stopped by other crew members. My crew member made a mistake and assaulted your partner... I’m sorry."

Fisher didn’t respond right away. He glanced at the crew member being scolded, who had a number of wounds on her face. While being disciplined, her lips lightly pursed, displaying a subtle sense of grievance...

Seeing the crew member’s demeanor, Fisher’s heart suddenly and unavoidably harbored a thought that even he was somewhat reluctant to believe.

It couldn’t be, that it was Isabella who threw the first punch?