Guerrilla Fighting

So slippery!

The mast's surface had been coated with a layer of tung oil to prevent rot. Combined with its straight, smooth shaft, Arro had to use every ounce of strength in his body just to keep himself steady.

The pirates were charging over, and some of them raised various short weapons again, preparing to throw them.

He could not afford to delay. The muscles in his legs immediately tensed.

Whoosh!

Without pausing for even a moment, Arro shot upward, swiftly climbing higher.

Looking at the platform two meters away from the mast, Arro gauged his height.

Close enough!

Having reached his conclusion, Arro exerted himself with all four limbs and sprang away from the mast. His body traced an arc through the air before landing safely atop the platform.

"How is that possible...?"

These pirates understood the mast's slickness better than anyone. Precisely because they understood it, they were shocked by what Arro had just done.

"Could it be... this mast wasn't sanded smooth or oiled?"

A short, skinny pirate murmured as he reached out to touch the mast. He had once been the lookout aboard the pirate ship, which was why he found it even harder to believe anyone could do such a thing.

Smack!

The short, skinny pirate was sent flying by a slap. The one who struck him was a tall Minor Leader, who glared viciously around him and roared:

"What are you all standing around for?! Forget that little rat! Once we've dealt with these little darlings around us, we can take our time playing with him!"

"Now, all of you, get moving!"

There had not been many pirates who had climbed aboard to begin with, and with several more having gone after Arro, the remaining pirates were no match for the encirclement of dozens of students. They were retreating step by step, and the landing point was on the verge of being lost.

But after these towering pirates joined the battle, the situation fell into a stalemate once more.

If no more pirates joined later, the students might soon claim victory through their advantage in numbers.

Unfortunately...

Having climbed onto the platform, Arro gripped his Knight's Longsword and warily watched his surroundings. At the same time, he seized the time to circulate the Knight's Breathing Technique, breathing rapidly and continuously to recover his strength as quickly as possible.

The mast's slickness had exceeded Arro's expectations. Though he had seemed at ease just now, he had actually used every bit of his strength and had only barely succeeded.

A short burst of exertion was also a form of overdraft, and it would also bring exhaustion. Those with better endurance merely recovered faster.

Arro wiped the blood and grease from his palms, then roughly cleared the bloodstains from his face. Only then did he tighten his grip on the Knight's Longsword, crouch down, and crawl to the edge of the platform.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Arro looked at the situation below.

Because he had spent years harvesting Experience Points, Arro had ample experience fighting one against many. And precisely because of that, he knew even better how difficult fighting one against many could be.

These pirates were not those Young Men whose abilities he knew like the back of his hand. The weapons in their hands were not blunt training weapons, and Arro was not wearing leather armor.

Compared to fighting the Young Men, these pirates had another, even more critical difference.

If he truly clashed head-on with these pirates—Arro might not have the upper hand!

Why were boxing matches divided into weight classes?

Arro's strength had reached six points, which was indeed not low. But in a real clash, these adults could stabilize their center of gravity through sheer body weight, while Arro might be sent flying simply because he was too light!

No matter how great Arro's strength was, it could not change the fact that his body weighed only this much. Even ordinary adults could easily pick him up, let alone these seasoned pirates.

Being knocked flying in battle—its consequences went without saying.

He could not confront them head-on!

Thud—!

The two ships finally drew close. The pirates who had long been impatient aboard the pirate ship swarmed over along the hooked wooden Siege Ladder with howls, rapidly squeezing the students' defensive line.

"I'm injured! Let me go to the back!"

"Hold them off! We can't retreat! Thrust! Thrust together!"

"They're throwing knives! Don't just stand there in the back—fight back!"

"What are you doing?! Why did you throw away your spear?!"

"The people in front said to fight back!"

"We can't beat them!"

"I surrender! Don't kill—ah!"

Compared to these pirates who lived with their lives balanced on knife edges year-round, the students were far too immature in every respect. Only because the Siege Ladder was limited in width, while the pirates who boarded were a chaotic mess and could not spread out, did the situation manage to remain deadlocked for a brief while.

Anyone who understood even a little about battle could see it—the students were finished!

Their fighting spirit was fading, and their formation was gradually falling into disarray.

He could not wait any longer!

If there was no opportunity, he would create one!

After adjusting his position on the platform, Arro gripped the wooden wall and silently slid down. While the pirates' attention was drawn to the students, he fixed his gaze on the Minor Leader who had remained hidden in the rear, bent low, and quietly dashed out.

Some weaknesses in battle could also become advantages elsewhere.

A light body made for faint footsteps.

At the height of a ten-odd-year-old, he could easily be concealed by the accumulated clutter on the deck.

And with Master Level Cat Form Fist—Dash, Arro could roughly determine the pirates' positions without even poking his head out.

"Go! Get up there, all of you! Press them all the way!"

"Kill them and take their potions! We can all become knights!"

The Minor Leader kicked and shoved his men, constantly urging them on, unaware that—death was closing in!

Advanced Skill—Thrust!

Screech!

The sharp Knight's Longsword pierced through the Minor Leader's neck!

"Cough, cough, cough..."

The Minor Leader's eyes widened as streams of blood bubbled from his mouth. This meant his arterial blood vessel had been severed. Blocked by the longsword, the arterial blood could only flow into his windpipe and spray from his mouth.

Swish!

Arro withdrew his sword, and bright-red blood sprayed out with it.

The Minor Leader pressed one hand over his wound, but blood still streamed endlessly through the gaps between his fingers.

His footsteps faltered, and he staggered back several steps. One hand pointed at Arro while his mouth opened and closed repeatedly, pumping out mouthfuls of blood, yet he could not make a single sound.

The pirates charging up behind soon noticed what had happened.

The pirates felt no sorrow whatsoever. Each of them stared at Arro as though they had spotted some heaven-shaking treasure!

"The Boatswain!"

"The Boatswain is dead!"

"Useless trash! You actually let a child ambush you!"

Thump!

The Minor Leader collapsed weakly to the ground, one finger still pointing tightly at Arro. The hatred in his eyes gradually lost its light.

Following his gaze, the surrounding pirates broke into an uproar. Yet after hesitating for only a moment, they eagerly charged toward Arro again.

"Wonderful! Kill him, and I'll be the Boatswain!"

"Kill him!"

"Move aside, he's mine!"

Arro turned and ran.

He had no desire to be surrounded and attacked.

The pirates chased after him with all their might, pulling some of the frontline fighters away and easing the pressure on the students, granting them a brief chance to catch their breath.

Following the route he had prepared long ago, Arro climbed over a platform of clutter, deliberately slowing down to keep the pirates hooked behind him.

"Haha, he's mine!"

The instant a pirate poked his head out, a flash of light greeted him.

Swish!