In Hintar, winter always came early. Actually, every single season was more like a mild winter, whereas true winter was a snowstorm that lasted for months on end.

For a fishmonger like Akane, though, colder weather meant bigger hauls. A light snowfall had blanketed the riverbanks, which was uncommon when it was this close to winter. Usually, she expected blizzards or hail. 

A long blade hung at the side of her hip, called a Sakana Koroshi. Although it was shaped like a thin, curved buster sword, its true purpose was for cutting down animals rather than humans. As dangerous as it sounded, this was the most basic equipment for all fishmongers in Hintar.

Keeping her hand on its hilt, she slowly approached a lone berserker trout with caution, but also completely confident in herself.

Non-sentient beings often had sharper instincts, and it seemed to be true even for marine life. The fish whipped its body around, somehow sensing her perfectly quiet approach, and roared, baring its deadly set of sharp, serrated teeth.

Using its powerful fins that had sharp appendages sticking out of them, it stuck its claws into the deep snow and used them to propel itself forward, swimming through the snow as if it were no different than water. For its size, it seemed like an impossible speed to attain, but the berserker trout had such an intimidating name for a reason. It lived a life of perpetual combat, fighting other members of its kind over territory in the river, leading to a toned, lean body with battle scars and a surprising strength that often caught less-experienced fishmongers off guard.

Still, for a veteran like Akane, this posed as nothing more than a momentary challenge.

Knee-deep in the snow, she steeled her nerves to stop herself from shivering and drew her blade.

“Fishing technique number five!” she declared. “Thundercrab!”

She leaned her body to the side and slammed the weapon into the trout’s head as she put all of her weight into the strike. It sliced into and shattered the bony plating that protected the trout’s cranium. She rolled into the direction her body was leaning, avoiding her prey’s initial charge.

Although the trout’s rush was deadlier than a charging bull, it was hard for it to change direction mid-attack as the momentum caused it to slide across the snow. Digging its claws into the ground once more, it pivoted and quickly turned around to face Akane. Its bone plating was crumbling apart, revealing its soft flesh that was underneath the armor.

The head was unprotected when the plating was off, but it wasn’t named berserker for no reason. The sheer amount of pain that resulted from its plating being broken was enough to drive it into a rage state, causing it to throw caution to the wind and strike back mercilessly.

Using its claws, it launched itself at Akane, flying over the snowy surface while gnashing its teeth. It bled from its exposed head, leaving bright red marks across the snow. This was the part where an inexperienced fishmonger would panic, but upon analyzing the situation, it was no different than the initial charge.

There was no technique. It was all just animalistic fury, driven by raging hormones and adrenaline in response to agony. 

“Fishing technique number three - Coral Flux!”

Gripping her blade with both hands, she ducked to the side once more, just out of the way of the trout’s attack. She brought her blade forward horizontally as the fish leaped directly into it.

It split the side of the trout’s jaw in half, and cut straight through to its gills. Akane noticed the claw reaching out, and she tore the blade out in a splash of crimson blood. 

“Fishing technique number seven - Full Flounder!”

She resheathed her blade. The claw was approaching at a rapid rate, and it was enough to make most people freeze up in fear. That fear was the sense of impending death that caused the body to become paralyzed. 

Still, Akane’s hands moved smoothly, in tune with the rhythm of battle. 

A flash of steel, glinting in the sunlight for a mere moment.

The edge of her blade bit into the claw, and she twisted her body out of its reach. She dashed at an almost supernatural speed across the snow, carving her blade straight through the rest of the trout. 

She flourished her blade, flicking the blood and fat off of its edge, and sheathed it once more. It was a masterful cut, executed with such speed that the trout hadn’t even realized it was dead.

Roaring, the trout turned around once more and was immediately silenced as a spray of blood erupted from its enormous wound that sliced across its entire body. 

She let go of the breath she had been holding and smiled at her catch. Using the long sleeve of her coat, she wiped the steaming sweat off of her forehead.

Still, it was nothing more than a day's work.

The sound of slow clapping rang out behind her, and she whipped her body around to find a familiar face.

“Wonderful, wonderful!” the man exclaimed. 

Perhaps a face she was too familiar with. His hoarse voice grated on her ears and made her wince.

“Tomio,” said Akane. “It's...a pleasure to see you.”

“Let’s not be too sarcastic here. I almost believe half of the stupidity that you spout. How did you get so talented at fishing?”

“I worked hard and practiced.”

He walked up to the dead trout and laid a hand on its thin scales. “So you wouldn’t have happened to have any secret, then?”

She crossed her arms. “Of course not. Maybe you’ll find a way to contribute to society one day.”

He completely ignored her, inspecting the clean cut through the fish. “At this rate, you’ll probably clear out your debt within the next twenty years or so. Assuming you don’t suddenly die of abnormal circumstances.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

He licked his lips, running his gaze up and down her body. “I must admit, you...are very beautiful at times. Maybe one day you would show your heart to me.”

Akane flicked her wrist, motioning for him to leave. “If you’re not going to tell me what you’re here for, then fuck off.”

Waving his hands in front of him, he cackled, then heaved a great sigh. “Alright, alright. So, I’m here today to ask you if you would humbly accept my invitation to the capitol.”

She immediately grew suspicious. “What for?”

“It’s nothing sinister. You see, the Showdown Tournament is coming up again, and it would be my honor to enter your name in the list.”

Her rejection was immediate. “No. I fight fish, not humans.”

“I recommend you hear me out. If you participate for me, I will wipe all of your debt out. I’ll even cover all travel expenses. All I need is for you to step into the arena.”

“What’s the catch? Do I need to win?”

“Pfft, no. All you need to do is pass the preliminaries. The money I’ll make from betting with you in the game is going to be incredible. You’ve got potential. Real potential. Maybe you don’t see it, but I do.”

She turned around to glance at the dead trout. Then, she stretched out her hand.

“Fine.”

“I’m glad you’ve considered it logically.”

Tomio gripped her hand in his, and they shook on the deal.

 

...

 

Seni lazily stared up at the bright moon in the sky as he laid down. Although winter was approaching and the chill wind blew hard through the rustling grass and leaves, at this moment he existed in an everlasting world of tranquility. The stars shined in the sky like jewels reflecting in the light. He stretched his hand out at the great beyond, above the clouds he knew-

“Hey! Seni! Quick, I think something- what are you doing?” Min shouted.

He rapidly retracted his outstretched hand. “Sorry, I was having an anime protagonist moment. You know, when you have to stretch your arm out to the sky and contemplate your existence?”

“That’s only supposed to happen when you’re talking to another person and both of you are laying on your backs. Then, you stretch out your hand and close it in a fist as you make a determined declaration. But, more importantly, something weird is happening to my chest!”

Seni sat up. “Seeing as you’re still alive, it can’t possibly be that bad. Take off your shirt, let me see.”

“You don’t suppose we should get Liuan?”

“I’m the herbalist here.”

Min pulled his shirt off to reveal a perfect six-pack of abs. His body was toned and lean, without the excess of fat Seni was used to.

“Holy shit,” Seni muttered. “Is this the power of immortality? You used to have a small beer belly.”

His eyes traveled up Min’s body, and focused on his chest, illuminated by the moonlight. A shiny liquid was smeared all over his pecs, and as Seni turned to look at the shirt, it was also stained with the liquid.

“You took me out of my anime moment for this?” Seni complained. “I’m not your mother.”

“Okay, but what the absolute fuck is this stuff? It just came out of nowhere!”

“Huh? What, is it your first time lactating?”

“Ca...can you repeat that?”

Seni laid back down on the soft grass. “No, seriously. Have you never lactated before? Like, when milk comes out of your nips?”

“Dude, guys don’t lactate. Only women have that.”

“Really? It happens to me all the time. My late husband also lactated, but somewhat less frequently.”

Min held his head in his hands. “Is...is this some kind of immortal thing I’m not aware of!? Do all men lactate!?”

Ainsworth crawled out of the tent, visibly exhausted. He rubbed his eyes and faced the two who were keeping watch.

“What in the world are you two yelling about?” he groaned.

“Ainsworth, do men lactate?” Min asked, without hesitation.

“...No? I don’t think so? I mean, it’s never happened to me.”

“Well, it turns out I just did. And Seni says it’s normal.”

“Huh? No, it’s not. Guys don’t lactate!”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” Seni cried. “You’re telling me human men don’t lactate?”

“Do immortal men lactate?”

“Yeah. Women do it at a somewhat higher rate, but all the guys do it too. Like, what’s the point of nipples if you can’t lactate?”

Min wiped his chest with his shirt. “Now that I think about it, that’s a good point.”

Ainsworth stared down at his own chest. “In all my life, I never thought about this, but I can’t unthink it now. Why do I have nips?”

“I know! What was the point of it? But I’ve come to the realization of something more important.”

Both Ainsworth and Seni turned towards him, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“If Seni can lactate, then that means we can do breast milk play,” Min stated. “I can see it now. Chapter sixty-nine, we’re in a love hotel or something, I look thirty years younger after going full-fledged immortal, and while Seni gives me a lap pillow, I go like, ‘I want five liters of your breast milk!’ and then he scolds me and says, ‘Ara, what a spoiled child you are. Here!’ and, uh…”

“Dude, that would sound pretty good if it weren’t for the fact that my bust size was less than an A-cup,” Seni added. “Let’s not deny that stuff only works best when there’s a big breasted onee-san in the picture or a MILF. Milkers, perhaps.”

“Titties, if I may.”

“Honkers, even,” Ainsworth added.

“Sugoi dekai’s!” Seni shouted into the sky.

“Badonkers!” Min yelled.

“What the fuck are you idiots doing!?” Liuan roared. “Do you want us to get found and murdered!? Go to sleep, and keep watch quietly!”

 

...

 

Akane’s sword bit into the wood of the training dummy. She had replaced her usual fishing instrument with a shorter, lighter weapon meant for hacking and slashing human opponents. Although, as much as she whaled on the dummy, she didn’t feel as if she were improving.

Naturally, nobody was going to fight to the death in the upcoming tournament; that would be a waste of good warriors. As such, the sword she had been equipped with was quite dull. Nicks and scratches appeared along the blade, and if she wanted to kill someone with it, she was better off using the blunt side as a club. 

“So, how’s it coming along?” 

She turned towards the sound of the voice. The personal trainer that Tomio had assigned to her, Kunio, was well past his prime and had a wrinkled face, frail body, and a long gray beard. Sometimes, she feared that the strong winter wind would knock him over, but he always kept his balance.

“Awful,” she said. “The people I’m going to be fighting in the tournament are warriors. I mean, actual warriors. Do you think I stand a chance against prodigies who’ve been training with weapons since they were children? Besides, you can’t possibly expect me to get used to a light weapon when I’ve been using a heavy two-handed one my whole life.”

Kunio didn’t reply and only stroked his beard as he watched her flail against the dummy.

“You haven’t taught me a single thing.”

“Mm.”

“I could use some tips right now.”

“Have you considered using a heavier weapon? We have more. Spears, halberds, warhammers, battleaxes, horse-killers, bardiches…although I guess a horse-killer wouldn’t be all that great against humans.”

She angrily threw her sword on the ground. The tip pierced deep into the snow. “Why didn’t you tell me that before!?”

“It was you who picked up that sword first. I wasn’t the one who chose it for you.”

He led her out of the training field and into a dusty shed. She sneezed as the dust flew into her face, and rubbed her face clean.

It was a full armory. An armory of dull, ineffective weapons, but it was better than a single flimsy sword to practice with.

Something caught her eye.

“Wait, wait. What in the world is that?” she asked, pointing at a curved weapon.

“Eh? Do it again, these old eyes are a tad unreliable sometimes,” Kunio replied.

“That one.”

He shuffled over and gingerly picked it out of the pile of dusty weapons and blew on it to clean off the blade. 

It was shaped like a massive sickle, with a long handle and a crescent-shaped blade that looked large enough to rip through a man in one clean swipe.

“A war scythe,” he mumbled. “Fitting for a rogue. Meant to kill shield users. Although I guess in this condition, it won’t be doing much killing.”

Unlike a farming scythe, the long handle was curved backward, and the blade, which was sharpened on both sides, jutted out in front. 

“You see how the base of the blade is set much further back because of the curved handle? It’s so you can keep your balance. If your enemy has a shield, you’re supposed to use the blade to reach behind the shield and stab him. It’s got enough power to punch through armor, that’s for sure. Still, you’d probably struggle with any regular fighter, since you can’t exactly stab and you have to maintain your distance,” Kunio explained. 

“No, this weapon is perfect!” Akane exclaimed. “I mean, think about it. This entire story arc is just one big clusterfuck of anime references, so if I took an anime bullshit weapon into the tournament, it would be perfect. And I don’t exactly see a dragonslayer greatsword double my size in here, so...”

“This scythe resembles nothing like the weapon you used for fishing. You know that, right?”

“Look, I’ll figure it out somehow. Maybe I’ll spin it around like a wheel and stab anyone that gets too close.”

The old man stroked his beard. “Hmm...actually, that does sound pretty anime-bullshitty, I’ll give you that.”

She gripped the scythe in her hands. It felt much more foreign than her trusty sakana koroshi, but also far deadlier. The blade was thick, with a powerful tip, almost like a mining pickaxe meant for the battlefield.

Already, she could picture it. The sharp blade whipping around her body as she spun it in her hands, eviscerating all who stepped too close in one clean slash...