The first wave of impact came without warning.
"Boom--"
There was a dull loud noise from the bottom of the ship, and the entire battleship shook violently. The sailors on the deck were caught off guard and fell to the ground one after another.
The barrels rolled down, the ropes snapped, and the pulleys on the mast rattled.
"What's going on?!" Dawg Russ grabbed the side of the boat and steadied himself, his expression suddenly changed.
Before the words were spoken, a second impact followed - "Boom!" - this time with greater force. The ship tilted to one side, seawater surged onto the deck from both sides of the ship, and cold water poured into the sailors' boots.
"Bottom of the ship! Something is hitting the bottom of the ship!" The sailor in the bottom of the ship rushed to the deck, his face full of horror, and his voice changed his tone, "There are many - many things - they are hitting -"
Dawg Russ rushed to the side of the ship in three steps and then stuck his head out to look down.
Thick fog covered the sea and nothing could be seen.
But he could hear - intensive banging sounds coming from the bottom of the ship, one after another, as if someone was hitting the coffin board with a giant hammer.
The planks were groaning, the keel was shaking, and the whole ship seemed to be being chewed in the mouth of an invisible giant beast.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The crashing sound became denser and heavier. Not only the flagship, but also the surrounding ships also heard the same muffled sound and trembling.
In the fog, the screams of the sailors, the cracking of the ship's planks, and the plop of heavy objects falling into the water were intertwined, like a chaotic doomsday movement.
Dawg Russ raised his head suddenly and looked at the top of the mast filled with mist - there was nothing there.
There was no Redd, no King Ghidorah, only a white thick fog that completely covered the sky.
"Your Highness..." He gritted his teeth and squeezed out two words from between his teeth. Then he pulled out the sword from his waist and shouted at the sailors who were in a mess on the deck, "Hold on!"
Crossbowman! Get to the side of the ship! No matter what is below, if you dare to come up, shoot it for me!"
Before he finished speaking, there was a fine rustling sound coming from the side of the ship - like countless nails scratching on the wooden board.
Then, a hand rested on the side of the boat.
The hand was covered with dark blue scales, the fingertips were sharp claws, and the fingers were connected with translucent web membranes.
It rested on the wet wooden board, and its five fingers slowly tightened, making a tooth-piercing scratching sound.
Immediately afterwards, the second, third, fourth... densely packed scale claws stretched out from both sides of the ship's side and clasped the side of the ship, like countless hands stretching out from the abyss.
A face poked out of the fog.
Seven parts are like humans and three parts are like fish.
The amber vertical pupils glowed coldly in the dim light, the cheek slit on the side of his neck opened and closed, and the corners of his mouth were grinned, revealing a mouthful of fine, sharp teeth.
It grinned at the sailors on the deck - if that could be called a smile - and then jumped onto the deck, covered in the salty water.
The moment the murloc jumped onto the deck, Dawg Lars could see its full view.
The dark blue scales extend from the neck to the tail vertebrae, glowing coldly and wetly under the dim light of the lantern.
Its body is lean but strong, and every muscle is clearly visible under the scales, as if it is tightly wrapped in soaked leather.
A row of short fin spines stood up on its back, trembling slightly as it breathed.
Those amber vertical pupils swept across the sailors on the deck, with the coldness and calmness of a predator looking at its prey.
It opened its mouth and let out a sharp neigh, as if to announce that the hunt had officially begun.
"Cum!"
Dawg Russ's voice was like a string that was stretched to the limit and suddenly broke.
The three crossbowmen pulled the triggers almost instinctively, and three crossbow arrows shot out of the air. Two of them pierced the fishman's chest, and one grazed its shoulder, chipping off a few scales.
Dark blue blood gushed out from the wound, darker and thicker than human blood, and fell on the deck like pools of ink stains.
The fishman lowered his head and glanced at the crossbow arrows on his chest, a trace of confusion flashed in his amber eyes - as if he didn't quite understand how these small wooden sticks could pierce his scales.
Then it reached out and pulled out the arrow cleanly, taking a small piece of flesh with it.
It didn't even make a sound.
Dawg Lars's pupils suddenly contracted.
"Keep cumming! Don't let it come--"
Before he finished speaking, intensive climbing sounds came from both sides of the ship.
One after another, scaly claws rested on the edge of the boat, and one after another half-human, half-fish faces poked out of the fog.
They surged onto the deck like a tide, their movements swift and ferocious, bringing with them a suffocating sense of oppression unique to the deep sea.
"Ahhhh--" Before a sailor could even raise his spear, he was knocked to the ground by the rushing murloc.
The fishman's sharp claws held his shoulders, and the mouth full of fangs came close to his face, and a strong fishy smell came out from the gap between his cheeks.
The sailor's eyes widened in horror, he let out a desperate howl in his throat, and raised the dagger in his hand to stab at random.
The blade pierced the fishman's side, and dark blue blood sprayed all over his face.
The fishman looked down at the knife stuck in his body, then slowly turned his head, staring at the sailor with his amber eyes, and let out a low roar.
The next moment, the fangs bit through his throat.
Blood spurted out, forming small streams on the deck, dripping down the gaps between the wooden boards, and falling into the dark sea below, attracting more murlocs to bite and fight frantically.
Dawg Russ watched this scene with his own eyes, his face turned pale.
He has been fighting at sea for twenty years, and has seen storms, pirates, and sea monsters that can capsize battleships, but he has never seen anything like this - not a beast, not a human, but some kind of nightmare in between that should not exist in any logbook.
"Formation! Formation!" he roared, grabbing the flag bearer beside him who was still in a daze, "The shield bearer is in front, the spear is behind! Back to back, don't be left alone!"
The well-trained soldiers finally recovered from their initial panic.
The shield-bearer raised his round shield to form a semi-arc shield wall in front; the spear-bearer poked out the tip of his spear from the gaps in the shield, forming a row of dense thorn bushes.
When the formation was barely formed, the second group of murlocs had already rolled over the side of the ship and surrounded them from the other side.
Fighting breaks out simultaneously in every corner of the deck.
Sparks burst out as the sword struck the scales, the fish-men's sharp claws tore through the flesh and leather, dark blue and red blood mixed together, drawing chaotic and cruel graffiti on the deck.
An old sailor wielded a two-handed giant axe, splitting the head of a fish-man with one axe, but was immediately knocked down from the side by another one.
He struggled to get up, half of his face had been chewed up, exposing his white cheekbones, but he still held up the ax and roared at the next murloc until he was knocked down by three or four murlocs at the same time and disappeared under the pile of dark blue figures.