Chapter 1037: Chapter 578: Hamlet’s People
The Fishmen’s raw strength is slightly stronger than the Heretics, but their recovery ability is much worse.
However, in front of Lance, both the Heretics and Fishmen fall with a single strike. Whether they have recovery ability makes no difference.
Lance, as if he had slaughtered fish at Runfa for ten years, was ruthless, landing critical hits with every strike.
With no need to worry about others, Lance’s combat power was fully unleashed, and the Legendary Weapon in his hand was like a ferocious Giant Wolf tearing the enemies to shreds.
Annihilation!
Destruction!
Eradication!
Extermination!
Mad slaughter!
The Fishmen continuously rushing from the water seemed to willingly walk onto the processing assembly line, with Lance serving the Void their meals.
He had no idea how many he had killed, nor how much time had passed, until no more Fishmen emerged from the water did Lance stop his mechanical swings of the Long Knife.
The bodies were casually sacrificed by Lance, otherwise, there wouldn’t be any space left in this small area.
Yet, the overwhelming stench of fish rose around him, the Fishmen’s fresh blood nearly dyeing the surrounding waters red, refusing to dissipate.
At last, Lance had some time to collect his thoughts.
As expected, this region was teeming with Fishmen, and shortly after he fell into the water, he caught the attention of these creatures.
The monsters displayed a crazed and cruel attitude toward the invading humans; Lance knew he could not afford to tangle with them in the water. He quickly swam beneath the surface, diving into the Bay at top speed.
Naturally, during this process, he endured the attacks of the Fishmen’s sharp teeth and claws. Like the one that bit his leg; had he not been quick, he might have hesitated, even with his confidence if dragged into deep water.
But now, standing on solid ground, no matter what emerged from the sea, he feared none.
Just like earlier, it would be another massacre.
The outside light couldn’t shine through, only as the torch Lance held was lit did some hope penetrate the dim Bay.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, Lance could finally take a good look at the "Abyssal Maw," a seemingly gateway to the ocean abyss.
Venturing slightly inward, everywhere his eyes landed were irregular, pitted surfaces. One never knew what lay beneath the pools; stepping into one could mean a small puddle or an endless Abyss leading to the ocean.
On the rocks, marine life like barnacles, sea snails, and shellfish clung to surfaces, their sharp edges seemingly blades awaiting to taste blood. A brush against them could tear away flesh.
Above, the rocks subjected to countless years of wave erosion had become strangely shaped, varied in height without order, yet they offered a feeling far safer than the Beast Lair, which seemed always poised to collapse.
Entering here felt to Lance like stepping into an obscured, damp environment where even the torchlight revealed a thin haze of sea mist, blocking sight.
Lance initially thought the salty taste in his mouth was normal as he just emerged from the water, but soon sensed something off.
This salty taste did not fade over time; upon close examination, he realized it originated from his breath, evident of how salty and damp the Bay’s air truly was.
Indeed, after a brief moment, Lance felt a thin layer of salt frost form on his skin; this place was unfit for humans, filled with corrosive forces, metal armor entering might soon rust into rotten iron.
With seawater, he simply cleaned off the filth sticking to him. It was then he realized earlier Lance had pushed back the Fishmen wearing merely shorts, manifesting godlike operations.
After changing into a set of clothes, Lance raised the torch wishing to delve deeper into the Bay to uncover its secrets.
Those Fishmen dared steal from him, now Lance would unearth their secrets, seeing who really stood firm!
Yet the enemy reacted faster than he imagined; perhaps the fierce battle earlier surely had disturbed the hidden Fishmen inside.
Though none survived, their shouts had conveyed the message to their peers, and soon, movements echoed from within.
Shrouded by mist, concealing sight, no one knew what might emerge from the complex tunnels the next second.
But Lance felt not a shred of fear; on the contrary, these Fishmen’s movements confirmed his suspicions.
This was the Fishmen’s nest, and now...
"Here I fucking come!"
......
As Lance charged forth, Hamlet’s operations did not cease; once a system forms, its gears keep turning regardless.
For instance, Vick completed Ovando’s task, returning for brief rest.
But his battle skill was his livelihood; he dared not relax even slightly, during breaks he still engaged in simple training to maintain his physical form.
Recently, he compiled some intelligence about Bastia, its disparity with places like Ovando was immense.
The Earl’s control over the Lord was powerful, the military’s combat strength was far from the trash city defense force of Ovando, besides, there was the Eagle Flock lurking in the shadows.
Furthermore, there was no conflict or significant refugees; order remained upheld.
Under such conditions, intelligence work in Bastia was destined to prove challenging, exposure before the military meant slim chances of survival.
The ensuing mission assuredly carried peril, acknowledging his remarkable contribution in Ovando. The Lord bestowed Holy Blood, sharing strength, heralding a new stage for him.
