What were you supposed to do when your fleet's flagship was boarded?
Charge over and kill every last one of the bastards, of course... Enemies had actually delivered themselves to their doorstep during this dull, tedious voyage. There was no way they could pass up something this good!
Not Playing If I'm Not Having Fun immediately drew the Arming Sword at his waist and threw himself into the fighting, only to find himself in one of the toughest battles he had faced since entering the game.
The enemies boarding from the Magic Ship not only possessed superb individual combat skills, far beyond those of ordinary sailors, but also fought with a terrifying, suffocating degree of coordination.
They operated in groups of three, forming compact battle formations that combined offense and defense, as though they shared a single brain. One charged at the front, another covered the flank, and the third stood ready to fill any gap or handle anything unexpected.
Even more troublesome for Not Playing If I'm Not Having Fun were the strange water magic effects imbued in their equipment.
Every time his longsword struck an enemy's weapon or armor, it felt as though he were cutting into a tough, slippery gel. Not only was it difficult to put any force behind his blows, but a thin layer of ice instantly formed on his blade, slowing his movements.
The enemy attacks carried a penetrating, sinister chill. Even when he parried them, that cold seemed to seep through his sword into his bones, numbing his arm.
One enemy's battle-axe struck the deck, and slick ice immediately spread around the point of impact, nearly sending the sailors trying to approach sprawling.
Fuck, how am I supposed to fight this!? Not Playing If I'm Not Having Fun cursed inwardly, rolling awkwardly sideways