Those fish-men swimming in the water hit the light beam and were instantly wiped out; those who tried to dive into the deep sea to escape were also wiped out one by one by the light beam penetrating the water.
The three heads have a clear division of labor and cooperate seamlessly.
The fishmen on the deck finally realized that the hunter and the prey in this hunt had been reversed.
They began to retreat.
The dark blue figures let go of the prey under their claws, turned over the side of the ship, and jumped into the sea.
But the sea is no longer their refuge - King Ghidorah's Gravity Beams are traveling underwater, taking away dozens of lives with each sweep.
The sea water is boiling, steam is rising, and the entire sea is trembling under the dragon's wrath.
Dawg Lars leaned against the side of the ship, breathing heavily. Half of his face was cut open by the fishman's sharp claws, and blood dripped down his chin.
But his eyes were fixed on the golden figure in the sky. There was no fear in his eyes, only an almost fanatical admiration.
He opened his mouth to say something, but found that he couldn't make a sound - his throat had been hoarse from the fight just now.
But he doesn't need to speak.
He only needs to watch and watch how his Dragon King can turn the entire battle around with one person.
King Ghidorah's last attack was the most spectacular.
The three faucet heads were raised at the same time, Gravity Beams accumulated power in the throat for three breaths, and then shot out at the same time - not a sweep, not a burst.
Instead, three golden light pillars condensed to the extreme, like three spears thrust from the sky, simultaneously penetrated into the sea area behind the fleet where the fishmen were densest.
The sea water was evaporated in that moment.
A sunken seabed was exposed, with shells and corals scattered on the white sandy bottom, as well as dozens of murlocs struggling in the mud.
They raised their heads, their amber eyes reflected the three burning dragon heads in the sky, and they neighed in despair.
Then, the seawater poured back in and swallowed them up again.
But King Ghidorah did not attack again.
Its three heads rotated slowly, and its six golden eyes scanned the entire sea area - there were dark blue wreckage floating on the sea surface, and the fish-man's blood dyed the sea water into a strange indigo color.
The once surging fish-men groups were now in disarray, and the survivors were desperately trying to escape into the deep sea, disappearing into the shadows of the sea.
The thick fog is dissipating.
That layer of strange, unnatural white fog was like a curtain that had lost its support, being torn into pieces by the strong wind set off by King Ghidorah, and wisps of it dissipated in the sunlight.
The sky was revealed again, a huge gap was torn open in the clouds, and golden sunlight poured down.
It shines on the devastated fleet, on the corpses scattered on the deck, and on the sailors who are covered in blood but still standing.
Dawg Russ slowly knelt down.
Not because of etiquette, not because of fear, but because his legs really couldn't hold on anymore.
He looked at the blood still flowing on the deck - dark blue and red mixed together, and he couldn't tell which ones belonged to the enemy and which ones belonged to his own people.
He heard groans, cries, prayers from the surrounding ships, and the crackle of the burning wood.
He raised his head and looked at the golden giant beast that was slowly descending in the sky.
King Ghidorah's wings spread out, blocking the sun overhead and casting a huge shadow on the deck.
The three heads lowered their heads, and their six golden eyes scanned the mess on the deck with an almost indifferent look.
Redd jumped off the dragon's back, and his boots landed on the deck with a dull sound.
He looked around, scanning the broken hulls, fallen masts, and corpses one by one, and finally landed on Dawg Russ.
"What are the casualties?"
Dawg Lars's lips trembled, and he wanted to say "The general is incompetent" and "The general has failed His Highness", but when the words came to his lips, they turned into a hoarse, almost inaudible. "Your Highness... you are here."
Redd looked at him and said nothing.
Dawg Lars lowered his head deeply, his forehead almost touching the pool of dark blue and red blood on the deck.
"The last general... the last general..."
His voice was choked.
Redd stretched out his hand and patted his shoulder. The force was not heavy, but it made Dawg Russ freeze up.
"Get up." Redd's voice was calm, but it carried an irresistible power, "It's not time to cry yet."
He turned around and looked at the dissipating dark blue blood stains on the sea, his eyes narrowed slightly.
"These fishmen didn't come by themselves." His voice was very soft, as if he was talking to himself or announcing to everyone, "There are people behind them."
He raised his head and looked in the direction of Lys - the sea area illuminated by the sun again. At this moment, the waves were sparkling and calm as a mirror, as if the fierce battle just now had never happened.
"When the account arrives at Lys, let's settle it together."
King Ghidorah's three heads raised up at the same time, letting out a low roar that shook the world.
The sound passed through the sea, through the clouds, and spread to the distance - to Lys, to the closed city-state, to those hiding behind the city wall, and to the shadows in black robes behind them.
It's saying: I'm coming.
When that golden light lit up deep in the thick fog, Nissa was on a reef far away.
She stood on the highest point of the reef, her bare feet stepping on the black rocks covered with barnacles and moss, letting the sea breeze blow her long dark blue hair into the air.
The long hair almost reaches her waist, with a few silvery white lines interspersed in the hair - that is the mark of her bloodline as a fish-man sacrifice, and it will emit a faint fluorescence under the moonlight.
Her pupils are completely different from ordinary fishmen.
It's not a turbid amber, but an almost transparent ice blue, like the purest crystal in the deep sea.
At this moment, those ice-blue eyes were crossing the sea several miles away, staring intently at the expanding golden light deep in the thick fog.
Even from such a long distance, the light was still so dazzling that she had to squint her eyes slightly.
"Boom--"
The sound hadn't come yet, but she had already felt it.
Not through the ears, but through the sea beneath my feet.
The seawater transmitted vibrations to the rocks, and the rocks transmitted tremors to the soles of her feet. It felt like the entire ocean was trembling and fearful.
Then, the wails came.
It was a feeling she couldn't describe in any words.
Hundreds of tribesmen struggled, rolled, and melted in the water - their pain, fear, and despair surged down layer by layer along the seawater, like an icy undercurrent, seeping from the soles of her feet to her heart.
Nissa closed her eyes.
She felt the death of the first tribe member. It was a young male whose scales had not yet fully grown and his dorsal fin was still soft. He had only participated in a group hunt for the first time three months ago.