Chapter 55: Chapter 55: One Against Eighteen
Seeing the message, all the Survivors were stunned.
The Survivors on the ship lookouts immediately raised their binoculars.
But out on the vast sea, the nineteen ships were all gathered together, making it impossible to tell which one had the monster on it.
Some captains gave orders right away to steer away from nearby ships, while also sending pictures of their own ships into the regional channel.
The Survivors moved their ships quickly.
Ships that were once less than a mile apart suddenly turned and headed in opposite directions. No one wanted to stay close, afraid their allies would get suspicious or draw unwanted fire.
Just as all the ships started moving, one ship instantly caught Raphael’s attention.
She picked up her binoculars and carefully studied the vessel. It looked old and worn, with no one in sight on the deck.
Seeing that instantly gave Raphael the chills.
She took a photo of the ship and sent it to the regional channel to compare with the others.
Suddenly, Toti shouted, "It doesn’t match any of the other captains’ photos! That’s the one!"
The moment he finished speaking, the ship seemed to notice the strange behavior around it and suddenly moved.
Thick clouds of red fog poured out from the hold, quickly forming a dense swarm of Falcon-shaped Mist Phantoms that darted out in all directions.
In less than a blink, the sky was completely filled with Falcon-shaped Mist Phantoms, easily over a thousand of them.
They circled wildly at first, but quickly split into eighteen groups and swooped down toward the eighteen ships.
Facing a life-or-death crisis, the Survivors all grabbed their weapons and rushed onto the decks.
Before the Falcon Mist Phantoms could even land, the Survivors racked their bolts and pulled the triggers.
In an instant, gunfire erupted everywhere, with bullets flying into the sky.
But the bullets passed right through the Mist Phantoms, only splashing a cloud of red fog, doing them no harm at all.
Seeing this, the Survivors’ faces all turned serious.
Just then, Raphael’s voice cut in: "Follow the plan. Pair up ships to surround that monster. Everyone, throw water!"
The words were barely out when Toti raised his voice and boarded the bow of the deep-sea fishing vessel. "You bastard! Taste the sea water!"
As soon as he spoke, Toti lifted the hose at his feet. A huge stream of seawater was pumped up and sprayed high into the air.
Unlike fresh water, the seawater was so red it looked black, almost like blood, and a bit thick.
The Falcon Mist Phantoms flew straight into the spraying water. Like butter hitting hot water, their bodies, originally two or three meters wide, shrank instantly.
By the time they passed through the water curtain and landed on the deck, their wingspans were less than a meter.
This new size didn’t feel so threatening to the Survivors, and they all let out a sigh of relief.
The Falcon Mist Phantoms never expected the Survivors ahead to be so clever. Almost every ship had water spray gear ready.
Even on ships without spray systems, the Survivors each carried two or three buckets and kept dumping seawater on the Mist Phantoms.
Raphael stayed inside the cabin the whole time, watching what was happening on every ship’s deck.
After seeing that the seawater really weakened the Falcon Mist Phantoms, she finally breathed a sigh of relief. "Good thing Celula and Monchhichi gave us the intel, or we’d be wiped out this time."
Hearing this, Raphael looked up again and broadcast a command to all ships: "Keep spraying water. Survivors with psychic weapons, get ready to take them out."
The moment Raphael’s voice faded, the Survivors on every deck stepped back to clear a path.
Some Survivors raised handguns loaded with psychic rounds. Others drew long blades meant to cut through spectral entities. A few even unrolled ancient scrolls and started chanting the incantations written on them.
Soon, bursts of glowing energy struck the Falcon-shaped Mist Phantoms.
Since the seawater had already shrunk them and weakened their defenses, a single hit from a psychic weapon took them out instantly.
That was just the first round of fighting. Most of the weakened Mist Phantoms were wiped out right then and there.
The ones that hadn’t made it to the deck yet regrouped in the air, screeching wildly. Their cries were filled with rage and hate, laced with a desperate, suicidal madness.
Back on the decks, the Survivors’ confidence came flooding back. They braced against the incoming attacks and started shouting.
"Not so tough after all. They’ve already lost nearly ten percent of their numbers in one round."
"Haha! I told you the two squads that got wiped out before were just weak. These things only dodge physical damage because they’re spirits. With our psychic weapons, they can’t touch us."
"We should thank Captain Raphael for pushing us to spend our points on anti-spirit gear."
"Yeah, once you have gear made to kill spirits, they’re just dead meat."
Inside the cabin of the fishing boat, Raphael watched the chat feed scroll by and let out a quiet sigh.
It was all thanks to the intel Celula and Monchhichi gave her that she could handle the first wave so smoothly.
But the moment she remembered that they’d only barely survived the Boss’s minions, her stomach dropped.
She didn’t let herself get cocky. Instead, she grabbed the radio and warned every captain: "Stay sharp. The boss isn’t even here yet. We’re just fighting its minions."
"All ships, hold your positions and lock down your defenses. We need to whittle their numbers down to a safe level before anything else."
After that, the Survivors used the seawater and their psychic weapons to hold the line against the Mist Phantoms.
They kept maneuvering their ships while picking off the enemies one by one.
Finally, every ship locked into place, forming a tight ring around the monster’s vessel in the middle of the water.
By now, the original thousand-plus Mist Phantoms had been cut in half, dropping to less than five hundred.
The Survivors were taking just as heavy losses, too.
On nearly every deck, two or three Survivors lay motionless.
There were no obvious wounds on them, but their minds were gone. They wouldn’t wake up again.
Toti stood at the bow, watching three of his own crewmen drop to the corruption of the Mist Phantoms, and let out a furious roar: "You bastards! Those animals! They only know how to fight dirty! Everyone, hold your breath! Do not let a single drop of that red fog get inside you!"
The exact same thing happened on almost every ship.
During the last fight, even though the Falcon-shaped Mist Phantoms were weakened by seawater and targeted by psychic weapons, that didn’t mean they had no way to fight back.
Once they landed on the deck, they would lunge straight at the Survivors. If a Survivor didn’t kill them in time, the Mist Phantoms would burrow into their nostrils, eyes, and ear canals.
At that point, the Survivors’ souls would be constantly eaten away, their Sanity would plummet, and their minds would completely shatter.
Some Survivors with weaker wills would even go crazy on the spot, attacking their comrades blindly, only dropping dead once their souls were completely destroyed.
After seeing this, the Survivors who had felt so confident about the battle suddenly shut their mouths at the same time.
Their faces turned grim. They gripped their weapons tight, mentally preparing to die in this night’s battle.
Noticing the morale slipping, Raphael grabbed her radio right away and gave a pep talk: "Don’t let your comrades die for nothing. We are getting out of these waters alive. We’ve already taken down half the enemies in the sky. Do you really lack the guts to wipe them all out?"
Hearing Raphael’s words, the Survivors’ fighting spirit instantly shot back up.
"Right! We can’t let them die in vain!"
"Fight with everything we’ve got! Kill those monsters!"
...
In an instant, shouts and roars echoed across the entire sea.
But just as all the Survivors were pumped up and ready to clash with the remaining Mist Phantoms, the old ship that had been sitting quietly in the dead center of the sea suddenly shook.
Right after, a tall, fully crimson Eldritch Entity covered in writhing tentacles walked out of the hold. It was the Mist Phantom King, back to its peak condition.
It stood on the deck, scanning the surrounding ships with a look full of pure contempt.
Aaaah!
With a deafening screech, the tentacles on the King’s head shot out wildly. A massive wave of crimson fog poured from them, shaping themselves into brand new Falcon-shaped Mist Phantoms.
They shot toward the nearby ships, once again crushing the Survivors with sheer weight.
Raphael looked up at her crewmate on the crow’s nest and yelled, "Count them! How many did it just spawn?"
The crewmate held his binoculars with shaking hands and counted it out slowly and clearly, "At least two thousand."
"What?" Raphael gasped, her arms hanging limp at her sides.
All the Survivors were already running low on stamina. Their weapons were either worn out or empty, and they weren’t in fighting shape anymore.
Meanwhile, the Mist Phantoms in the sky had just gotten a massive refill. As the odds shifted so fast, the scales of this battle had completely tipped in favor of the Mist Phantom King.
Raphael knew right then that surviving the night was going to be a tough fight. She clenched her teeth and sent another order to all ships: "Everyone, lock down your positions! Hold the line against these monsters at all costs!"
