When those cannon-fodder Fishmen charged, Liu Zhi, standing atop the city wall, couldn't help but light up. He had raised Fishmen before, after all, so he knew how Fishman troops worked.
He'd always thought he had a pretty wild imagination, but compared with the various tribes of the Fishman Empire, his ideas were still rather tame.
These Fishmen, on the other hand, had no great inheritance to draw upon. They had reached this level and become the Fishman Empire's cannon fodder through changes forged with their lives on the battlefield.
If they really wanted to increase their speed, there were plenty of things they could do.
Liu Zhi saw some Fishmen actually gliding across the water.
Among that wave of Fishmen was one who was clearly a wind mage. With his support, all the Fishmen around him became considerably faster.
But that very boost in speed left the other Fishmen completely bewildered.
The Fishmen ranks, which had been orderly just moments before, quickly fell into disarray.
At that point, Liu Zhi could see what they had intended from the start. Like the layers of a mille-feuille, they were forming attack waves of five thousand Fishmen each, with perhaps a dozen meters between every wave.
That way, as soon as the first wave finished attacking, the second could immediately take its place.
Thirty attack waves in all would surge against the city walls like the tide, one after another.
Once the ten or so waves at the rear had arrived, the Fishmen at the front would be able to withdraw, rest, replenish their numbers, and prepare to join the later attacks.
That way, the Fishmen could keep their cannon fodder in the fight without interruption, maintaining a constant assault.
That was probably the best-case scenario for the Fishmen's plan.
But now,