156: Chapter 156 Slaying the Demon General, Arriving at the Front Lines (3)

Lu Changyuan saw that old wound.

The spot he saw was an irregular oval below the wound caused by the Sword Intent—after the thin scab had been shattered by the Sword Intent, the color of the soft flesh underneath was completely different from the color of the surrounding hard scales.

The color of the soft flesh was pale—the newly grown granulation tissue was light pink under the moonlight, and there was still undrained transparent pus on its surface.

On the deck—on the sea—under the mixed light of moonlight and fog—in the middle of a patch of dark green scales—that mass of light pink soft flesh looked like a bullseye.

He thrust his sword in.

The direction of the thrust was not straight—the tip of the sword cut in from the lower edge of the Sword Intent wound, slanting downward at an angle of about thirty degrees.

The sword tip passed through the subcutaneous fat—through the muscle fibers torn by teeth—through the protruding lump outside the wall of the neck's blood vessel—and pierced into the major blood vessel.

He twisted his wrist. A horizontal cut.

The blade rotated ninety degrees horizontally inside the blood vessel. After rotating ninety degrees, the blade sliced open the other side of the vessel wall—connecting the tear stretched open by the tooth marks with the tear made by the sword tip.

Nearly one-third of the major neck blood vessel was severed—the dark green blood did not just gush out, it sprayed.

The blood sprayed onto the blade—dripping down along the spine of the sword, down to the hilt—and onto Lu Changyuan's fingers.

The blood was cold—the Yao Beast's blood temperature was much lower than a human's, and against his fingers, it felt like cloth soaked in ice water.

The Yao Beast's body stiffened. Its four rows of teeth locked up the moment its mouth opened—the muscles of its upper and lower jaws spasmed halfway and suddenly lost control, its chin dropping nearly two inches.

Its vertical pupils dilated—the gray-green irises expanded from two vertical lines into two ovals.

It took a step forward—this step was not an attack, but the result of the body's momentum carrying it forward after its forelimbs lost control.

Then its forelimbs bent—the distance between its knees and the deck was less than half a foot, and the scales on its knees scraped a deep gouge into the deck.

Its body tilted to the left—the direction of the fall was exactly towards the ship's railing.

As the Yao Beast fell, it pressed against the railing. Two rows of wooden planks on the railing were crushed by its weight—splinters splashed into the sea from the fracture, and the spray kicked up from the sea surface—flipping over the railing and slamming onto the deck.

The people on the deck—everyone standing in their formation positions—all watched as the Yao Beast's head slid down nearly three feet from the outer edge of the railing and then stopped.

The Yao Beast's body was draped over the broken railing—half its body inside the ship, half hanging outside. Seawater poured onto the deck from beneath its suspended body—the incoming seawater washed away some of the fish blood on the deck.

The silence on the deck lasted for about a breath. Then, a muffled sound erupted.

The muffled sound was not loud—it was a single breath squeezed out simultaneously from the chests of over two hundred people.

When the breath the new recruits had been holding in their chests rushed out from their throats, it carried a trembling sound that was neither crying nor shouting—but they raised the short spears still shaking in their hands. The spear tips raised in unison by half a foot under the moonlight.

The Old Veteran did not raise his spear—the one with the old scar on his cheekbone stood there, his shoulders dropping, the tension in his knees completely gone.

He pulled his shield out of the drainage groove—the bottom edge of the shield, which had been stuck for nearly half an hour, brought out a piece of wood pulp swollen by blood when pulled from the groove. He looked down at the wood pulp—then leaned the shield against his leg. His leg was still there—and so was the shield.

He wiped the fish blood off his face with his sleeve—after wiping, the old scar on his face was revealed again, stretching from his eyebrow to his chin under the moonlight.

Commander Cai wiped the fish blood off his face—wiping from his forehead down across the bridge of his nose, the calluses on his palms scraping clean lines of skin on his cheeks.

He looked back behind him. The formation was still there. None of the shields in the small circular formations had scattered. The people crouching inside were still panting—some were vomiting—Xue Mingyuan, crouching in the middle of the Third Squad, was wiping his sword with his sleeve.

His sword-wiping motion was the first time he had done so—wiping from the spine towards the tip, pausing when he reached the tip, and then rubbing the fish blood off the tip onto his sleeve. His left ear was still dripping blood, though he hadn't noticed it himself.

After looking back, Commander Cai roared at the top of his lungs. What he roared was "Do not break formation." These three words struck the deck three times—each word landing as heavily as the sound of the first footstep.

After the people on the field heard "Do not break formation"—the formation did not break. The shields were raised again. Those still sobbing wiped their tears on their sleeves—then stepped their feet back into the drainage grooves. Someone bent down to pick up a short spear from the ground—the handle of the short spear was slick from being soaked in fish blood, so he wiped the handle on his trousers twice and gripped it firmly.

Lu Changyuan pulled his sword out of the Yao Beast's neck. As the blade was pulled out, it brought with it a burst of dark green blood mist—the blood mist sprayed onto the armor on his chest, and the Array Pattern on the armor plates dimmed after being soaked by the blood.

He flicked the sword on the deck—the blood on the blade sprayed out in a diagonal line, landing on the deck. The Geng Metal Sword Intent had already dissipated. The faint golden threads of light remaining on the blade flashed one last time under the moonlight—and extinguished.

His right arm felt numb from wrist to shoulder—his Meridians were swollen from the residual vibrations of the Geng Metal Sword Intent. He clenched and unclenched his hand that wasn't holding the sword. After recovering for about half a cup of tea's time, the swelling sensation in his right arm subsided by more than half.

The remaining dozen or so fish Yao Beasts jumped into the sea from both sides of the railing—their jumping motion was faster than their motion when climbing up. Their webbed feet kicked off the railing, and they disappeared into the water. Several dark green dorsal fins broke the surface of the sea as they retreated towards deeper water—the direction of their retreat was towards the Dragon Burial Trench.

After the Yao Beast leader died, the remaining small fish Yao Beasts had no intention of boarding the ship again—they were vassals, and vassals do not fight back for a dead leader. A few fish Yao Beasts began biting each other underwater—fighting over the trace of diluted beast blood in the underwater carnage.

Lu Changyuan sheathed his sword. He bent down and used his left hand to pick up a wooden plank that had been crushed by the Yao Beast earlier—the Array Pattern on the plank was still there, but the array pulse had been crushed. He flipped the plank over—on the back of the plank was an iron plate used for patching the railing, which had been bent but not broken. He placed the plank on a cargo box at the edge of the deck—as he set it down, the residual fish blood on the plank dripped down from the patterns.

"Drag the Yao Beast corpse to the center of the deck." His voice had recovered—his right arm was still swollen, but he no longer had to suppress the tremor in his voice when he spoke. "Scales, teeth, bones—register everything."