The players' first encounter with the fishmen in the border war zone was simple and swift. Put simply, the furious fishmen charged in like lightning, then scattered like a lightning whirlwind after a brief clash.
Several thousand hotheaded fishmen hadn't lasted five minutes against the players' ferocious assault, which came with plenty of shouting. The players wiped out more than half of them in one go, while the rest were stunned and fled with their tails between their legs, howling.
It was just like those men who promised, "I'm totally going to do you today," only to finish in three minutes and run away in disgrace amid their partner's mocking laughter: "Can't you do any better, you runt?"
The mermaid sisters escorting them were all dumbfounded.
In their imaginations, no matter how good you Transians were at fighting, you'd still have to struggle for a while against the fierce Dagon fishmen before victory was decided, right? But before they even had a chance to hurl lightning in support, they saw a group of players charge in, yelling like mad, and cut down a row of fishmen in a single pass.
The archers in the rear fired a volley from the war platforms, and the fishmen's already pitiful morale collapsed.
Hey!
This was underwater!
You land-dwellers weren't supposed to be familiar with naval warfare, were you?
What was going on here?!
Even worse, after winning the fight, these people acted as though nothing had happened. They complained that the fishmen were way too weak while calmly pulling out their weapons and chopping off the Dagon fishmen's black fins. Their technique was so practiced that they looked just like the White Devils who scalped people in another world.
And the ones left behind to cut off the fishmen's fins were all relatively