Weasley looked at Shami with admiration.
Even though you’re quite skilled, the appearance of the Nightlight Fish has sealed the victory. No other fish could compare.
Let’s end the competition here.
At this moment, Shami forcefully pulled the rod, and he reeled in a golden axe.
"Oh, I caught a Golden Axe. No wonder it felt so heavy. It probably weighs twenty to thirty pounds, and in terms of market value, it’s worth at least 500 to 600 gold coins."
"Wait a minute, catching something other than fish with bait doesn’t count!"
Weasley’s shocked voice hadn’t even fallen when Shami’s rod got another bite.
Thanks to the hard work of the red Fishman in the lake, Shami’s hook kept getting movement.
"Oh, another catch. Oh, it’s not a fish; it’s a pair of black silk panties."
"Why is there such a thing at the bottom of the lake?"
"Oh, another catch. Oh, not a fish, it’s actually a bag of packed garbage..."
"This is no longer fishing, right? Is there really a living Lake God in here?"
"Oh, another fish. Hmm? It’s not a fish. It’s actually a note. —Hello everyone, I’m a dark-skinned exchange student from Kanri Kingdom, and I’ve heard the girls in Fata are great. I really like Fata; Fata is my home."
"Kanri is that really impoverished place, right? Calling it a kingdom is more like calling it a backward village, but how could he enter Fata? Our Fata has never allowed black people to learn mag—Oops..."
Weasley stopped mid-sentence and quickly shut his mouth.
Turns out this was fishing of another meaning!
"Ah, this fish is so heavy."
Shami began to pull the rod again, seemingly pulling up something very heavy.
With Shami’s effort, a bizarre, intimidating fish-like creature with sharp spikes on its back bit onto Shami’s hook and came ashore.
—It was the red Fishman who, not knowing what else to catch in the lake, decided to show up himself.
Once onshore, the red Fishman swiftly ran into the forest.
"Oh, I didn’t expect to catch a lake monster."
Shami said calmly with a simple "oh."
"Don’t say such things so calmly! Everything you’ve caught is extraordinary!"
Weasley widened his eyes in excitement and stood up, wanting to follow, but noticed Shami on the shore calmly watching him.
Weasley paused for a moment, realizing his behavior was improper and quickly regained composure, coughed, and sat down slowly.
Apologies, the last time my emotions fluctuated so much was when I took Magical Girl Saili as a student.
Since the red Fishman has run off, there’s no point in continuing. It’ll certainly just be more empty attempts. Follow current novels on Novᴇl_Fire(.)net
Shami wisely stopped and placed the fishing rod beside him, simultaneously putting the fish he caught back into the lake, keeping the Golden Axe for himself.
Weasley watched Shami’s actions silently.
"Sir, here’s your fishing rod back. It really was a good fishing session."
Shami respectfully handed the items back to Weasley.
Feeling sorry for Weasley in his heart.
There’s no way two against one can lose.
This was a competition between the Demon Lord, the Fishman Race, against Fata’s Mages. From the start, the outcome was inevitable.
But, could it be this old man has been stunned? Now sitting staring at me.
Shami, being stared at by Weasley, moved a bit away.
"Yes, yeah... Why can you catch so many strange things...?"
Weasley looked at the black-haired boy with a complex expression, unable to underestimate him, questioning him.
Shami remained silent for a moment.
Of course, he couldn’t talk about having help.
So he vaguely came up with a reason.
"Why not? Fishing itself is about expecting the unknown and uncertainty. If you know what you’ll catch each time, there wouldn’t be any fun."
Shami pretended to be profound and laughed.
His words might sound casual, but Weasley was deeply resonated and shaken.
Magic, when he embarked on this path, was supported by this belief.
Now, the black-haired boy’s words made him regain his past memories.
Magic and fishing have something in common.
Today, Weasley witnessed another realm of fishing.
As a Great Mage, Weasley originally thought fishing was just a simple activity.
But now, you could say the black-haired boy in front of him gave him a harsh lesson, making this arrogant fishing mage realize fishing isn’t as straightforward.
In front of him, the boy had gone beyond simply catching fish; he was fishing for endless possibilities.
Bonefish, Golden Axe, black silk panties, garbage, notes, lake monster...
Under the black-haired boy’s hook, countless possibilities were hidden.
Yet for him, what he caught was always just fish.
The black-haired boy always had a calm expression while fishing, and his heart remained unshaken no matter what he caught, as if he had seen the end of the world.
In comparison, the excited state he was in just moments ago, was embarrassing for an old mage, acting like a child.
Weasley shook his head lightly in shame.
Perhaps, the person who could catch anything might be the true fishing master.
And possibly, he was the one who could provide more insight into fishing.
"Young man, what is your name?"