This was absolutely not an opponent he could handle!
A deep, piercing wolf howl surged around him alongside a fierce wind that made his skin sting. The suffocating pressure left Yorkshaw almost incapable of calm thought, and only his instinct to survive allowed him to think such a thing.
For adventurers, there were many times when they did not even need to fight face-to-face. Merely judging the other party's performance in battle was enough to recognize the gap in strength between them.
If he could not even make out the enemy's specific movements, seeing only blurred afterimages...
If the crew behind him had already been utterly defeated while he had only just reacted...
Yorkshaw felt there was no longer any need to continue this battle.
If he offered up everything he had, trampled his so-called dignity beneath his feet, gave up all resistance, and knelt to beg for mercy, perhaps he could still cling to life. Otherwise, only a meaningless death awaited him.
Unfortunately, perhaps the pressure exerted by that Black-haired Adventurer was simply too great, leaving him unable to think at all. Just as Yorkshaw decided to throw down his sword and surrender...
His two teammates, whose Profession Levels were only Level 1, charged at the Black-haired Adventurer who had leaped onto the deck under his despairing gaze. One was a muscular, powerfully built green-skinned Half-Orc wielding a one-handed axe, while the other was a nimble Wanderer dual-wielding Short Swords. Having fought together for years, they possessed considerable coordination and combat experience.
Even without exchanging words, the two displayed exceptional teamwork at this critical moment.
The two figures came from the left and right, forming a pincer attack.
The Half-Orc was in front, while the Wanderer lagged slightly behind.
The former would draw the enemy's attention and restrain him