"Ram them to death!"
"WHOO! Faster, faster!"
"Kill!"
At first, the pirates didn’t care. These were all n who lived with their heads tied to their belts; insanity and slaughter were their constant companions. They considered this petty trick insignificant, even clamoring madly to crash into the enemy ship, issuing crazed shouts.
However, as the distance between the two ships rapidly closed, death lood ever closer, and those n no longer seed so insane.
After all, should the ships collide, it would an the destruction of their ship and all hands lost; even the best swimr would be dragged into the maelstrom of the sinking vessel.
The once boisterous n began to quiet down; so of the more impatient ones started to back away, shouting warnings.
"Dodge quickly!"
"We’re going to hit!"
"..."
"Damn it! Lunatics." The captain at the bow couldn’t help but step back and curse, then turned and yelled at the helmsman, "Full starboard rudder, avoid them!"
The helmsman, more eager than anyone to dodge, imdiately threw the rudder hard over upon hearing the command. The sudden maneuver caused the entire ship to lurch violently, and many who lost their footing tumbled over.
Luckily, they all lived on ships; though the pirates were thrown about, none were pitched into the sea.
Still, the incident was a severe blow to their morale, and these pirates had completely lost their earlier swagger, now looking sowhat deflated.
Unfortunately for them, their sorry state was clearly witnessed by their opponents.
"See that? When fighting pirates, the most important thing is not to lose in morale," Wilson said, standing at the bow, a mocking expression on his face as he watched the pirate ship swerve to avoid them; he hadn’t moved an inch. "These n haven’t had professional training and lack organization; they’re entirely driven by greedy madness. They might manage to bully ordinary people if the wind is at their backs. But as soon as soone surpasses them in spirit, these brutes are just rabble, collapsing at the slightest touch."
Standing beside him were Reynard and Dismas, neither of whom showed any fear. After all, they had faced plenty of major situations before, and these pirates were nothing to them.
"Dare to set their sights on Hamlet, I’ll slit their throats," Dismas said with a fierce look, drawing his musket to load it.
Lance was strict with the control of Extraordinary Equipnt because he knew most of it ca with various problems. If used well, it could enhance the team’s strength, but it could also easily lead to trouble.
Therefore, under normal circumstances, the equipnt was to be returned after a mission. Obviously, facing a few pirates didn’t warrant using the Banshee Hand Axe.
Reynard remained silent, standing on deck leaning on his sword, looking like an empty suit of armor stationed there.
But only their enemies knew the terrifying power concealed beneath that armor.
Alas, those pirates didn’t realize it yet; they only knew they had just made utter fools of themselves.
"Throw the grappling hooks! Cast the boarding lines! Kill them! Everything they have is ours!" the pirate captain bellowed. As long as they killed all their enemies, no one would know of their disgraceful display.
Not all pirates could join Redbeard’s crew; if you hadn’t taken a few lives, you’d be too embarrassed to even show your face among them. These pirates never lacked the courage to kill.
Just as the two ships were about to pass each other, dozens of hooked ropes were thrown across, catching firmly on the bulwarks. With the motion of the ships, the ropes instantly pulled taut, creaking loudly but holding fast, biting deep into the wood.
Now ca the pirates’ signature tactic. They scurried across the makeshift rope bridges. anwhile, pirates who had been waiting high up on the sails leaped, swinging across on ropes and letting out wild, bizarre yells.
BANG! A gunshot rang out. The pirate in mid-air plumted, crashing dead onto the deck.
Dismas calmly reloaded, not forgetting to scoff, "Taste the bite of a shell, you fool!"
But a single shot couldn’t halt the pirates’ frenzied onslaught; they kept pouring over the side. And at that mont, Wilson drew his weapon and bellowed.
"Prepare to et the enemy!"
The soldiers, who had been waiting eagerly, burst forth. They had been concealing their strength, but there was no longer any need.
The weapons in the hands of the climbing pirates were a motley collection, a mishmash of all sorts of items. However, no long or heavy lee weapons were visible; they mainly carried cutlasses and axes.
As for armor, it was nonexistent. They wore only ragged hemp clothes, apparently unwashed for ages and looking more like scavenged scraps.
On the battlefield, victory isn’t decided by equipnt alone, but more importantly, by heart.
The pirates were startled to find the deck suddenly crowded with well-equipped enemies. But when they saw the soldiers’ young faces, marked with anxiety and hesitation, the pirates’ flagging morale surged. Savage grins spread across their faces as they brandished their weapons and charged, shouting.
"Damn, they’re just greenhorns."
"Brothers, attack!"
HAHAHA!
To be honest, Wilson had guessed correctly: sending them into battle after only a month of training ant many recruits were indeed timid. This was an unavoidable issue.
Lance had similarly baptized his recruits with blood, forging them into a proper army during their initial campaign against bandits.
Now, the sa test lay before these new recruits. If they could pass it, they would beco true mbers of the Hamlet Navy.
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