Chapter 117: THIRD POV.
"Your highness, there’s absolutely nothing to worry about. This is just a simple, friendly competition between friends to pass the time," Flounder said, his voice instantly softening as he looked down at the little girl.
He dropped to one knee so he was at her eye level, trying his best to reassure the princess and wipe the worried look off her small face. He gave her a warm, practiced smile that he usually reserved only for her.
"Oh, so you’re friends now, are you?" Rudwig gave Flounder a heavy look that clearly said he didn’t believe a single word coming out of the boy’s mouth.
He knew Flounder hated the first mate’s guts, and this was nothing more than a dangerous display of pride.
Flounder simply ignored the old man entirely, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.
Instead, he reached out his hand and gently patted the princess on her soft head, smoothing down a few wild strands of her silver hair.
"Just sit back and watch me win this one for you, alright? I know how much you miss the taste of home," Flounder said, his voice full of total confidence.
"Alright, big brother Flounder. I’ll be cheering for you from the railing," Rebecca giggled, her worries melting away as she enjoyed the familiar intimacy.
She gave him a small nod, her eyes shining with trust as she watched him stand back up and grab his fishing gear.
******
Rudwig soon gave the command, his voice echoing across the open water as he signaled the crew to begin the descent.
Both Jacob and Flounder headed down into separate small wooden boats, stepping carefully onto the narrow seats while holding their heavy wooden fishing rods.
Dinklehimer and a few other of the freed captives then began lowering them into the water using the ropes attached to the sides.
The ropes groaned under the weight, slowly dropping the two small crafts until they smacked gently against the surface of the rolling blue waves.
Priscilla had already given the order beforehand for them to raise the large canvas sails and drop the heavy iron anchor so as not to leave the area.
The massive battleship slowed to a complete stop, sitting firmly in the middle of the Blueberry Sea like a giant wooden island.
The water here was a deep, beautiful blue, and the midday sun was shining brightly, creating a clear view for everyone watching from above.
Once on the water, Flounder didn’t waste a single second.
He stood up straight in his small rowboat, balancing his feet against the rocking motion of the waves.
With swift ease, he whipped his wooden rod forward.
Flounders line drew a beautiful arc, his fishing hook sailing through the air before diving into the water with a clean, tiny splash.
Sinking deep into the sea below.
Meanwhile, Jacob on the other hand did nothing of the sort.
He didn’t even bother to pick up his fishing rod, placing it aside.
To everyone’s suprise, he simply leaned on his back, stretching his long legs out across the wooden seats of his small craft.
He locked his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and lounging in the hot sun without a single care in the world.
He looked like a man on a relaxing vacation rather than someone in the middle of a serious wager.
"What on earth is he doing?" one of the freed captives muttered from the high balcony, leaning over the wooden railing to get a better look.
"Shouldn’t he be casting his line as well? The clock is ticking!" another sailor shouted, scratching his head in pure confusion.
Murmurs quickly broke out on the battleship as they all began wondering what was going on with the first mate.
The crowd of onlookers whispered among themselves, some pointing fingers at Jacob’s lazy figure while others laughed, thinking he had already given up before the game had even started.
Priscilla simply stared down in absolute silence from her spot.
Even she herself didn’t understand what he was trying to do.
She knew Jacob was strange and had secret abilities, but watching him sunbathe while his opponent was actively hunting made her white ears twitch with a mix of annoyance and confusion.
In the end, she simply crossed her arms tightly, waiting to see if her first mate was actually going to make a fool out of her.
******
Down on the water, the two small boats had drifted a short distance away from each other to avoid tangling their areas.
"Has he given up already?" Flounder frowned deeply, staring at Jacob’s resting body for a long moment.
He let out a quick snort, before shifting his focus back to his own floating line.
Since Jacob didn’t look like he’d win anytime soon, He felt a sudden wave of deep satisfaction washing through his chest.
’Whatever he’s planning, it doesn’t matter because I’m going to win this easily,’ Flounder said to himself, his mind filled with a massive amount of confidence.
He didn’t care if Jacob was lazy or if he was trying to play some kind of mental game to make him lose focus.
’After so many years with her highness, I’ve developed a special fishing method to better catch green-finned tuna,’ Flounder finally revealed the internal reason for his immense confidence.
He knew something that regular sailors didn’t know about these waters.
He didn’t hesitate to put his special technique into motion right then and there.
By technique, it involved moving the wooden rod and the long line around in a very specific, rhythmic way.
You see, after so many years of living within the palace and traveling along the coastal regions with the royal family, he’d learned a hidden secret about these rare creatures.
He knew that green-finned tuna simply couldn’t resist a certain type of small sea creature that lived near the coral reefs.
And said sea creature tended to move around in a very specific, jerky way in the water, giving off unique vibrations and signals through the water waves that the green-finned tuna themselves picked up on with their sensitive sides.
By mimicking said movements with his simple fishing line, he could theoretically trick the fish into thinking a tasty snack was swimming right in front of them, luring in the green-finned tuna even if they weren’t originally hungry.
It sounded incredibly easy when you thought about it, but in actuality, being able to mimic said signals with nothing but old memory and a standard fishing line was much harder than one thought.
It required a perfect amount of strength, an exact timing, and a deep understanding of how the water moved around the bait.
One wrong jerk of the wrist, and the fish would realize it was a trap and swim away instantly.
Flounder’s arm was already starting to ache from the repetitive movement, but he kept going, his eyes locked onto the blue depths below.
And so, the competition continued under the hot midday sun.
Flounder was sweating through his shirt, trying his absolute best to lure in any green-finned tuna using his secret royal technique, while Jacob on the other hand, was completely enjoying his tan in the sun, occasionally shifting his body to get a better angle for the light.
Like that, time rapidly went by on the open sea. Seconds turned into long minutes, and minutes turned into tens of minutes.
The crowd on the battleship was growing a bit restless, the initial excitement fading into a quiet murmur as the sun continued to beat down on the wooden decks.
Dinklehimer checked his brass pocket watch every now and then, his face serious.
When it was rapidly approaching the thirty-minute mark of the competition, the quiet atmosphere on the water suddenly shattered.
Dangle! Dangle!
Flounder’s long fishing line suddenly began to bend greatly, the thick wooden rod bowing down toward the water in a sharp, heavy curve.
The rope line went completely straight, pulling hard against the side of the small rowboat and causing the craft to tilt slightly.
"I got one!" Flounder shouted at the top of his lungs.
Not even seeing what was actually on the other end of the line yet, he proclaimed his victory loudly, seemingly filled with absolute confidence.
The young man rapidly began to reel in the catch, using both of his hands to grip the spinning wooden wheel on his rod.
His muscles bulged under his skin, and his teeth were clenched tight as he fought against the heavy strength of the creature below.
The fish was fighting hard, darting back and forth under the boat, but Flounder was too experienced to let it break the line.
He used his weight to balance the boat, turning the handle with a steady, powerful rhythm.
Those on the battleship’s high balcony watched on with anticipating gazes, leaning far over the rails. Rudwig was holding his breath, his face full of tension, while little Rebecca was clapping her tiny hands together in excitement.
Even the three maids and captives were cheering, shouting words of encouragement down to the young guard.