The Fishn’s raw strength is slightly stronger than the Heretics, but their recovery ability is much worse.
However, in front of Lance, both the Heretics and Fishn fall with a single strike. Whether they have recovery ability makes no difference.
Lance, as if he had slaughtered fish at Runfa for ten years, was ruthless, landing critical hits with every strike.
With no need to worry about others, Lance’s combat power was fully unleashed, and the Legendary Weapon in his hand was like a ferocious Giant Wolf tearing the enemies to shreds.
Annihilation!
Destruction!
Eradication!
Extermination!
Mad slaughter!
The Fishn continuously rushing from the water seed to willingly walk onto the processing assembly line, with Lance serving the Void their als.
He had no idea how many he had killed, nor how much ti had passed, until no more Fishn erged from the water did Lance stop his chanical swings of the Long Knife.
The bodies were casually sacrificed by Lance, otherwise, there wouldn’t be any space left in this small area.
Yet, the overwhelming stench of fish rose around him, the Fishn’s fresh blood nearly dyeing the surrounding waters red, refusing to dissipate.
At last, Lance had so ti to collect his thoughts.
As expected, this region was teeming with Fishn, and shortly after he fell into the water, he caught the attention of these creatures.
The monsters displayed a crazed and cruel attitude toward the invading humans; Lance knew he could not afford to tangle with them in the water. He quickly swam beneath the surface, diving into the Bay at top speed.
Naturally, during this process, he endured the attacks of the Fishn’s sharp teeth and claws. Like the one that bit his leg; had he not been quick, he might have hesitated, even with his confidence if dragged into deep water.
But now, standing on solid ground, no matter what erged from the sea, he feared none.
Just like earlier, it would be another massacre.
The outside light couldn’t shine through, only as the torch Lance held was lit did so hope penetrate the dim Bay.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, Lance could finally take a good look at the "Abyssal Maw," a seemingly gateway to the ocean abyss.
Venturing slightly inward, everywhere his eyes landed were irregular, pitted surfaces. One never knew what lay beneath the pools; stepping into one could an a small puddle or an endless Abyss leading to the ocean.
On the rocks, marine life like barnacles, sea snails, and shellfish clung to surfaces, their sharp edges seemingly blades awaiting to taste blood. A brush against them could tear away flesh.
Above, the rocks subjected to countless years of wave erosion had beco strangely shaped, varied in height without order, yet they offered a feeling far safer than the Beast Lair, which seed always poised to collapse.
Entering here felt to Lance like stepping into an obscured, damp environnt where even the torchlight revealed a thin haze of sea mist, blocking sight.
Lance initially thought the salty taste in his mouth was normal as he just erged from the water, but soon sensed sothing off.
This salty taste did not fade over ti; upon close examination, he realized it originated from his breath, evident of how salty and damp the Bay’s air truly was.
Indeed, after a brief mont, Lance felt a thin layer of salt frost form on his skin; this place was unfit for humans, filled with corrosive forces, tal armor entering might soon rust into rotten iron.
With seawater, he simply cleaned off the filth sticking to him. It was then he realized earlier Lance had pushed back the Fishn wearing rely shorts, manifesting godlike operations.
After changing into a set of clothes, Lance raised the torch wishing to delve deeper into the Bay to uncover its secrets.
Those Fishn dared steal from him, now Lance would unearth their secrets, seeing who really stood firm!
Yet the enemy reacted faster than he imagined; perhaps the fierce battle earlier surely had disturbed the hidden Fishn inside.
Though none survived, their shouts had conveyed the ssage to their peers, and soon, movents echoed from within.
Shrouded by mist, concealing sight, no one knew what might erge from the complex tunnels the next second.
But Lance felt not a shred of fear; on the contrary, these Fishn’s movents confird his suspicions.
This was the Fishn’s nest, and now...
"Here I fucking co!"
......
As Lance charged forth, Hamlet’s operations did not cease; once a system forms, its gears keep turning regardless.
For instance, Vick completed Ovando’s task, returning for brief rest.
But his battle skill was his livelihood; he dared not relax even slightly, during breaks he still engaged in simple training to maintain his physical form.
Recently, he compiled so intelligence about Bastia, its disparity with places like Ovando was imnse.
The Earl’s control over the Lord was powerful, the military’s combat strength was far from the trash city defense force of Ovando, besides, there was the Eagle Flock lurking in the shadows.
Furthermore, there was no conflict or significant refugees; order remained upheld.
Under such conditions, intelligence work in Bastia was destined to prove challenging, exposure before the military ant slim chances of survival.
The ensuing mission assuredly carried peril, acknowledging his remarkable contribution in Ovando. The Lord bestowed Holy Blood, sharing strength, heralding a new stage for him.
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