153: Chapter 153 Night Raid on the Fleet, Bloodstained Deck (2)

The sound of water in the fog rang out again.

It was denser than before—it wasn't just the sound of fish schools churning the water; this time, there was also the friction of scales rubbing against scales and the thumping sound of webbed feet kicking against the wooden planks on the outside of the hull.

The second wave had come up—the Fish Demons climbing over from both sides of the hull were nearly twice as many as the first wave.

The shields at every position on the deck were struck simultaneously—the sound of the impact rolled from the bow to the stern, like a hammer striking all the way along the deck.

Xue Mingyuan, positioned at the waist of the Third Squad, faced a Fish Demon.

The Fish Demon vaulted over the side of the hull—it stepped on the top of the gunwale, used the leverage to lunge forward half a zhang, and crashed directly into the tip of the sword Xue Mingyuan held before his chest.

The sword tip pierced below the Fish Demon's collarbone—it didn't go in deep, only less than two inches.

The Fish Demon did not retreat—it was used to continuing to bite after being wounded while in the water.

It opened its mouth—two rows of jagged teeth bit towards Xue Mingyuan's throat.

Xue Mingyuan pushed the sword forward—while simultaneously tilting his head to the right.

The Fish Demon's teeth grazed past his left ear—the tips of the teeth sliced a gash into his earlobe, and blood began to seep out from the edge of the ear.

He pulled the sword out of the Fish Demon's collarbone—as he withdrew the blade, he flicked his wrist upward, twisting the tip half a circle in the hollow of the Fish Demon's collarbone.

The Fish Demon's body arched on the deck—then slid off the side of the hull.

As it slid down, its webbed feet caught on the hull—scraping off a dark green scale the size of a thumbprint.

Xue Mingyuan leaned against his shield, panting.

His left ear was dripping blood—the blood droplets mixed with the fog-water on the deck.

His sword was still trembling—but the fish blood on the tip was fresh.

The Third Squad's position held.

But the outer perimeter of the Fourth Squad on the left flank was torn open further—two Fish Demons vaulted in through that gap simultaneously, splitting left and right to cut into the center of the formation.

The person standing in that position fell to the ground—his shinbone had been snapped by the Fish Demon's bite, and his lower leg was angled outward nearly forty degrees from below the knee.

He did not scream.

He was smashing the Fish Demon's head with his shield—the edge of the shield struck the Fish Demon's gill cover, cracking it open, and grayish-green gill fluid leaked out from the fissure.

Lu Hu moved.

He rushed from the bow into the Fourth Squad—his horizontal path cut through the gap between two small circular formations.

He stepped into the middle of the gap—his left foot stepped on the edge of the shield of the left formation, his right foot stepped into the drainage channel of the right formation, and his body turned sideways to pass perfectly between the two men.

The blade slashed from top to bottom—the target was the back of the first Fish Demon's neck.

The back of the neck was the place where the Fish Demon's scales were thinnest—the scales here changed from large to small, from hard to soft.

The blade sliced through the scales and into the spine—the vertebrae emitted an extremely crisp snapping sound under the blade.

The Fish Demon's body became paralyzed from the waist down—its two legs were still kicking, but its upper body could no longer move.

The second Fish Demon turned its head—as it turned, the fish-bone blade in its mouth had changed direction, shifting from a cut toward the center of the formation to a stab at Lu Hu's waist.

Lu Hu did not dodge—he stepped forward, letting the bone blade slide past his waist, while simultaneously turning his blade horizontally—the edge sliced into the Fish Demon's throat and cut horizontally half a circle toward its ears.

A semicircular gash tore open on the Fish Demon's neck—the gash tore from the Adam's apple to both sides, reaching the gill covers.

The Fish Demon's mouth was still opening—but it could no longer bite.

The slaughter on the deck lasted for nearly half an hour.

Within that half hour, three waves of Fish Demons came—each wave was larger than the previous one, and each wave vaulted over the ship at different locations.

The second wave vaulted from the sides—the third wave climbed up from the stern, and there were also some from the bow.

The formation of the Sin Battalion nearly broke during the third wave—three men at the outermost position of the Sixth Squad were bitten on their legs and arms by Fish Demons simultaneously, and the shields of that position sank nearly half a foot.

Two more Fish Demons vaulted in through the gap where the shields had sunk—after vaulting in, the Fish Demons didn't bite anyone, but charged straight toward the center of the formation.

Their target was Commander Cai, standing at the eye of the formation.

Commander Cai pulled his pipe from his belt—the pipe was not a weapon, but he smashed the bowl end of the pipe against the eye socket of the Fish Demon charging at the front.

The pipe bowl shattered the Fish Demon's orbital bone—the brass bowl smashed in nearly an inch deep.

The Fish Demon clutched its eye and retreated to the side—retreating to the outside of the shields.

The second Fish Demon bypassed him—but halfway through, it was struck in the waist by the shoulder of the Old Veteran with the scar on his cheekbone, who had rushed over from the side.

The Old Veteran had no weapon—his bone blade had already snapped, so he used his shoulder to ram it.

The Fish Demon was knocked sideways three feet—three feet was just enough to move it to the side of Xue Mingyuan of the Third Squad.

Xue Mingyuan thrust his sword in—piercing into the Fish Demon's waist and abdomen, running it through.

The formation did not break.

Lu Changyuan did not draw his sword from beginning to end.

He stood at the bow—his hand resting on the gunwale, his eyes tracking the edges of every squad's formation in the fog.

He saw someone on the outermost edge of the Fifth Squad's formation retreating—for every half inch they retreated, he memorized a name in his heart.

A veteran in the Fourth Squad who had served for three years took an active step forward when the Fish Demons vaulted up—for every step forward, he also memorized a name in his heart.

The number of people whose names he could call out grew.

In the second half of the night—the sea fog began to thin.

The Fish Demon's offensive stopped.

Fish Demon corpses were piled haphazardly on the deck—some were counting, others were dragging bitten comrades toward the inner side of the deck.

Some were kneeling beside the corpses—the kneeling people placed their hands on the chests of the corpses, saying nothing.

The fog-water on the deck turned grayish-red after mixing with blood—a grayish-red film of water spread from the bow to the stern, and trampled shield marks and footprints overlapped on the bloody water from bow to stern.

The sea wind shifted from the east to the west—the wind force increased, blowing the residual fishy stench on the deck toward the stern.

The horizon did not brighten.

But moonlight shone through the thin mist—the moonlight spread over the sea surface, where dozens of white-bellied Fish Demon corpses were floating.

The fleet reorganized in the fog—the tops of the masts of the seven ships emerged from the mist.

Commander Cai finished counting the number of people—he handed a blood-soaked piece of wood to Lu Changyuan.

Numbers were carved on the wooden piece—not numbers, but tally marks scratched out with a blade tip.

Arranged in rows of tally marks, with a space every ten marks.

Lu Changyuan took the wooden piece.

He did not look down.

A low roar came from the fog.

That low roar was deeper than the sounds of all the previous Fish Demons—it came from the deep sea direction on the left side of the hull, the sound traveling underwater for three breaths before breaking through the surface.

Everyone on the deck stopped—those counting corpses froze with their hands in mid-air, and those dragging wounded soldiers paused on the deck.

The lingering echo of the low roar reverberated in the fog—the wall of fog was shaken by the sound wave, pressing back toward the ship.

Then the bottom of the ship was struck—this impact was not the force of a school of fish brushing against the hull.

The entire ship tilted nearly five degrees to the right—those who were unsteady on the deck slid to the right, and cargo crates slid three feet from the left side of the deck to the right.

The cargo crates crashed into the right gunwale—shattering the wooden board on the gunwale that had been half-cracked by the fish-bone blades.