Chapter 692.1: Many Thanks For The Ancestor’s Gift? |
Beneath the surging waves, a mass of blue Mutant Humans covered in fish scales roared along with the ocean currents. Seen from afar, they looked like a rolling blue mudslide flowing beneath the sea’s surface.
They used shrill howls to intimidate any mutants that dared approach, carving a path forward with their harpoons. Hugging the coastline, they swept westward, then turned south.
Guided by the will of their ancestors, they had drifted for a full week. Along the way, they paused to rest only a few times. When hunger struck, they snatched sea fish, shellfish, or seaweed to stave it off. Wherever they passed, the waters were left murky and ravaged. They were like a swarm of underwater locusts.
Yet even with their bellies growling, their morale never waned. The lust for battle burning in their pupils only grew stronger.
This brief hunger was merely to make room for the feast to come. Soon, under the blessing of their ancestors, they would eat their fill and revel in the cries and wails of their prey.
As they were about to reach their destination, their leader suddenly straightened its back, kicking against the current to halt its forward momentum.
“Ka!”
The blue skinned Mutant Humans behind it scattered. More than a thousand of them planted themselves on the jagged seabed, like a forest of ghostly seaweed swaying in the dark.
“Ship!” It opened its mouth and let out a piercing shriek, lifting its head to stare ahead before glancing at the coastline to its right hesitantly.
It puffed out its chest and sucked in a deep breath of icy seawater, a string of dense bubbles rolling from its gills.
As if catching a scent, a bloodthirsty gleam gradually lit its eyes.
“Humans!”
“Livestock!”
“So many!”
In an instant, it wasn’t just one, thousands of murky pupils reflected the same murderous hunger.
As though sensing the boiling desire for slaughter coursing through their blood, it threw back its head and let out a shrill, grating scream.
“SINK THEM!”
That hoarse shriek was like the blare of a war horn. What answered it were cheers and screeches like shells being crushed.
“Ka, ka!”
More than a thousand blue skinned Mutant Humans surged forward again, faster than before, like horses tearing away from their reins.
Those carrying torpedoes broke from the group first, slamming the barrel-thick warheads into the seabed and yanking out the fuses.
A trail of bubbles drifted upward as the blue skinned Mutant Human who carried it clapped its hands over its ears and kicked away from the primed torpedo.
With a dull “glug,” a thick column of white bubbles shot diagonally toward the surface, propelling the massive torpedo straight into the leading cargo ship.
These civilian vessels had no professional underwater sonar. The people aboard sensed nothing of the attack from below and took the hit with no preparation.
The shockwave stalled the ship’s forward motion. As the milky bubbles dispersed, a breach appeared along one side of the bow, and several unlucky humans tumbled into the sea.
Watching the cargo ship slowly list, the blue skinned Mutant Humans erupted into excited shrieks, banging their weapons against turtle-shell shields or nearby rocks, like savages clattering knives and forks while waiting for a feast.
Just as they hoped, as the ship tilted further, more and more crewmen leapt into the water like dumplings dropped into a pot.
Their sheer numbers utterly exceeded the Mutant Humans’ expectations.
Normally, sinking a ship yielded at most 20 or 30 prey. Now, from just one cargo ship, over 100 of them fell into the sea, and the number kept rising.
The Mutant Humans stared as though gazing upon paradise, murky eyes glowing green.
Praise the ancestors!
With no time to give thanks, their leader spat out bubbles and let out an excited howl, charging forward with its harpoon raised.
“Kill!”
Under its lead, the Mutant Humans lurking on the seabed kicked off hard, brandishing their weapons as they rushed the drenched figures floundering in the water,
They were like wolves plunging into a flock of sheep!
“Kill!”
The soldiers from the Xilande Empire choking on seawater hadn’t even realized what was happening when harpoons and bolts pierced their chests one after another.
The sea surface turned red with blood. It was a horrifying and brutal sight.
Screams and wails rose and fell with the waves, like hell on earth.
In just a few breaths, nearly 100 men were killed! The few who survived had no idea what was happening and could only dog-paddle frantically toward shore.
Clearly, for soldiers stepping outside the Poro Province for the first time, the blue skinned monsters were far too ahead of the meta.
The same went for the Mutant Humans gorging themselves.
The humans felt like they came pre-seasoned, their flavor oddly distinct from anything they had eaten before.
But it didn’t matter.
After starving for a week, they cared little for the difference. All they wanted now was to indulge in this banquet of death and slaughter!
The soldiers of the Xilande Empire who hadn’t yet jumped ship could finally see what was swimming in the water, terror stamped across their faces. Those blue skins looked eerily like the jackets worn by shelter dwellers.
Neither quite human nor quite fish, they wielded harpoons, clubs, even fishing nets, shrieking and laughing as they reaped one life after another from the sea.
In mere moments, corpses floated everywhere. Every wave slapping against the hull was smeared with shocking crimson.
More terrifying still, the monsters didn’t seem content with simply executing their foes.
They would sometimes haul a drowning soldier up from the water, only to shove him back under before he could breathe, tormenting the prey until he was exhausted, barely alive, no longer struggling, only then would they slit his throat and feast on flesh and blood.
Hearing the screams from the water, the soldiers crowding the rail who hadn’t yet jumped went pale, eyes filled with terror and helpless despair.
Some screamed desperately to those overboard, trying to haul them back onto the sinking ship. Others raised rifles and fired into the churning waves or hurled grenades into the sea.
But unfortunately, all of it was futile. It was utterly useless…
Just as Mojave was panicking, the corner of his eye caught sight of Dilrang and several of his guards dragging a small inflatable raft out of the hold.
While the Mutant Humans were still feasting in the water, too busy to bother with them, they tossed the raft overboard without a word and paddled with all their strength toward shore.
Seeing a chance to live, Mojave rushed into the hold as well and, sure enough, found several spare rubber rafts and small wooden boats tucked into a corner.
Knowing he wouldn’t be strong enough to paddle out alone, he didn’t drag them out himself. Instead, inspiration struck, he ran back to the deck and shouted at those who hadn’t jumped because they couldn’t swim.
“There are lifeboats in the hold!”
“Get them out!”
Hearing his call, the men rushed in a panic to grab those lifelines. In the chaos, Mojave slipped onto one and finally escaped before the cargo ship sank completely.
The sea was in utter turmoil, punctuated by dying screams and desperate struggles.
Watching rafts, and even random tubs, pass overhead, the soldiers in the water stretched out their hands in despair, trying to grab anything.
But there were only a dozen or so boats, most already packed full, nowhere near enough for the nearly 1,000 men in the water.
Some soft-hearted souls, seeing familiar faces, couldn’t bring themselves to strike down their comrades. They allowed them to cling to the sides as long as they didn’t climb on board.
Others, more ruthless, ignored all brotherhood. As their dash to shore was slowed, they lashed out with rifle butts, bayonets, even boots, desperate to shake off the burden and reach land alive.
Witnessing this living hell, Mojave trembled with fear, curling up in the raft, terrified they might throw him overboard to make room for others.
Yet to his surprise, those fierce men didn’t do that.
Perhaps because he had spent these days standing beside important figures, those low-ranking Wolffolk soldiers “loved the crow that roosted with the phoenix,” instinctively treating this kidnapped outsider as some kind of dignitary.
In any case, thanks to their disregard, he escaped the blood-soaked waters without mishap and ran aground with the raft on the shore.
Using every ounce of strength, he crawled out, stumbled forward a dozen meters, then rolled onto his back on the muddy beach, gulping fresh air, his mud-smeared face still pale with shock.
Then he heard a familiar voice nearby and turned his head.
A soaking-wet man was limping ashore, leaning on an Eviscerator rifle, a horrifying wound across his shoulder.
It was Singer, Captain Achim’s guard and one of the first to obey the commander’s order to abandon ship.
He was alive!
A flicker of surprise crossed Mojave’s face.
And when he heard Singer’s first words upon reaching shore, his jaw nearly dropped. “… Damn it, we got played by those blue gophers!” Singer spat a mouthful of bloody saliva into the sand, cursing through clenched teeth.
Those dishonorable bastards!
Who would have thought the blue gophers only looked honest on the surface? In reality, they were cunning and treacherous, having seen through the Xilande Empire’s plan long ago!
But maybe that was fine…
If those blue demons’ forces were tied up at sea, the shore defenses had to be thin, and land battle was precisely where the Xilande Empire excelled.
As long as he could regroup the troops who made it ashore, even a couple of companies of soldiers would be enough to complete the mission and take French Fry Harbor!
Seeing that unhinged man coming toward him, Mojave quickly shut his eyes and played dead. Less than two seconds later, he was yanked up by the collar. “Get up! I know you’re not dead!”
Mojave trembled as he opened his eyes, still dazed, only to see a face twisted like a demon’s. “S-sir…”
Singer glared at him with a savage grin, grinding out the words through his teeth. “Take me to the New Alliance camp, now!”
Mojave gaped, looking from the soldiers sprawled on the beach like dead dogs, then back at the man clutching his collar. He was about to ask, “Are you out of your damn mind?” But his mouth opened too wide and dislocated, leaving him unable to speak.
Luckily, he didn’t need to.
Less than two seconds after Singer finished speaking, a sharp explosion echoed from the distant forest.
It was the sound of a Ripper rifle!
At the same instant, gunfire like a torrential downpour erupted across the beach and forest. A fierce firefight ignited in an instant!
Singer immediately let go, throwing Mojave back onto the sand as he racked his rifle and bellowed at the soldiers struggling to their feet on the beach.
“Contacted, contacted!”
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