"What kind of monster is that?"
On the deck of the Dauntless, Felix stared blankly at the eight tentacles soaring into the sky in the distance like pillars holding up the world. He trembled uncontrollably, and the indescribable terror nearly made him unable to hold the longsword in his hand.
The other sailors fared even worse. Seeing that the Silver Dragon could do nothing to the undersea monster for the moment, they muttered despairingly, "It's over, we're definitely going to be buried at sea today," and "I don't want to be eaten by fishmen, I don't want to be eaten by fishmen"—words that spread panic like a plague.
Some had even been frightened into wetting themselves on the spot, unable to move.
In certain strictly disciplined city-states, these men would likely have been cut down on the spot by supervising officers for "sowing chaos in the ranks."
But they were not, after all, soldiers of a city-state, and Elisa could not bring herself to restore discipline through such extreme means.
At that moment, the Sahuagin and dire shark riders who had not been affected by the icy dragon breath charged in.
The first wave of dire sharks leapt from the sea, their savage jaws gaping as they slammed straight toward the ship's side.
This was one of their customary tactics for dealing with human vessels.
Most dire sharks weighed over six tons. Add the sharkmen on their backs wielding tridents, and together they likely weighed as much as a steam locomotive.
Ordinary wooden structures could only end with a hole blasted straight through them under such overwhelming force.
Countless Sahuagin behind them watched the pouncing dire sharks with fanatical eyes, waiting only for the dire shark riders to break open the hull so they could follow inside, slaughter the humans,