Goblin Heavy Dependence

Chapter 407 Beheading
"Boo! Hah! Hah!"

Sharp arrows transformed into a thin curtain of rain, falling from the sky and splintering wood chips, which then embedded themselves into the deck surface.

Under Captain "Oilhand" Byrne's orders, they stopped and quickly approached the pirate ship that was approaching the cargo ship not far ahead, making the pirates realize their hostility.

He knew perfectly well that in this vast sea where there was no law and no order, surrendering meant certain death.

No matter how cooperative they were, even handing over the safe hidden in the captain's cabin, these bloodthirsty and ferocious hyenas would never let anyone leave, lest they cause future trouble.

When a ship is far slower than its opponent, only by putting up a complete resistance and demonstrating one's determination to fight can one possibly force the opponent to retreat and gain a chance to survive.

Therefore, the moment the pirate ship was spotted approaching, Captain Gregory of the Black Gull, a dark-skinned, extremely experienced middle-aged man, decisively ordered his sailors to fight back.

The sailors, now in position and positioned at the high point of the stern, used their superior height to draw their crossbows, aim, and fire, unleashing a torrent of arrows at the pirate ship that was closing in at an alarming rate.

The Black Gull has been sailing for many years and has several veteran crew members on board.

But since they were doing this kind of work where they risked their lives, each voyage felt like a second chance at survival. They indulged themselves even more than adventurers, and few of them used their spare time to hone their skills.

This resulted in the vast majority of the arrows being shot being very inaccurate.

Many of them didn't even reach the opposite deck; they were nailed directly to the hull or even fell into the sea.

After a round, the only one to cause injury, grazing the calf of one of the pirates, was none other than "Colin," a trainee sailor who had just boarded the ship. Before leaving his hometown with Xia Nan, he had been an apprentice to a hunter in the village for a while. He had some talent and practiced hard, so his shooting skills were quite good.

Some of the less experienced sailors were alarmed by this, their bodies trembling and they could barely hold their weapons.

The veterans, though equally nervous, kept their hands busy, telling the younger men around them to stay calm and not panic, while simultaneously nocking arrows and drawing their bows again to direct the second round of shooting.

After all, they weren't professional adventurers. Maintaining accuracy on a ship rocking in the wind and waves was almost entirely a matter of luck and chance.

The first few rounds of shooting yielded little result, which is perfectly normal; just treat it as getting used to the feel of the action.

When the pirate ship gets close enough and the pirates stand on the deck attempting to board, that's when they have their real chance to strike.

"Ding!"

The crisp sound of hard objects colliding bursts through the air.

With a sharp, cold glint, the arrow was easily deflected by the scimitar.

With a slight flick of his wrist, the broken arrow was flung by the blade onto the deck beside him.

He heard the agonizing screams of an unfortunate crewman whose arm had been pierced by an arrow. "Oilhand" Byrne stared intently at the cargo ship ahead, his face contorted with savagery and bloodlust.

These damned, ridiculous, overconfident maggots dared to provoke him... At this moment, Bourne had already sentenced the entire crew of the Black Gull to death.

He even planned to keep the captain in charge of the opposing ship after the battle and torture him severely to vent his anger.

Of course, at the same time, as an experienced adventurer and pirate who had worked part-time for many years, he couldn't possibly let his rationality be destroyed so easily.

Although more sailors can be recruited after returning, the mission has not yet officially started, and excessive losses should be avoided as much as possible.

He didn't want to take a ship full of wounded soldiers to the island for a mission.

"Grass snails!"

He stared at the cargo ship that was gradually approaching ahead, without turning his head, and suddenly shouted loudly.

Having worked together for many years, their level of understanding goes without saying.

Almost the instant Byrne finished speaking, an unusual sea breeze suddenly rose from the void.
It was not colorless or formless; this gale seemed to be driven by the purest natural magical particles, flashing with a magical glow like phosphorescent powder as it howled.

In an instant, it enveloped the sky above the pirate ship, transforming into a blurry, transparent wall in the air.

While it didn't completely block the sharp arrows that tore through the air and fell from above, it greatly reduced their kinetic energy.

Even the wooden deck couldn't be nailed through, and it crashed and clattered to the ground at everyone's feet.

Behind him, Grass Snail gripped her staff tightly with both hands, her lips moving, and the magical light flashing in her eyes even melted the boundary between her pupils and the whites of her eyes.

He didn't know the name of the spell, and deep down he didn't even think it was a spell.

It can only be considered a technique for using magical particles.

Born into a primitive tribe in a remote sea area, he had only been proficient in the common language for a few years. Even though he had learned some knowledge about spellcasting with the help of Captain Byrne, in actual combat, he still relied on his own affinity with nature to perform extremely primitive spellcasting.

By crudely and simply pouring his mental energy into a basic spell model, he could create a whirlwind to defend against flying objects.

If it were an ordinary novice mage, this method of casting spells would probably drain their mental energy in an instant, causing them to faint.

However, at present, the grass snail was already exceptionally talented, and then his mental strength reserves grew rapidly during his painful growth experience, which unexpectedly led him to form a unique way of casting spells that "great power can produce miracles".

If things continue to develop like this, and one day he has the opportunity to receive a long-term, systematic arcane education, coupled with his years of combat experience at sea, he might actually achieve considerable success in the path of magic.

Unfortunately……

hum-

The gale barrier above the pirate ship was disrupted for a moment, then returned to normal the next second.

Grass Snail tried her best to maintain the spell, her brows furrowed.

He vaguely sensed that at the moment he cast the spell, a chilling killing intent, almost tangible, emanated from the deck of the cargo ship opposite.

Like a deep shadow that always lingers and swims underwater in the spiritual world, it smells some kind of blood and reveals its fins on the surface of the sea.

A sense of unease suddenly arose in my heart.

At that moment, he even considered whether to lift the spell and use his own and his crew's lives as leverage to force Bourne to retreat.

However, the painful experience of being tortured as a demon by his clan in his childhood, and the twisted personality that gradually formed after being rescued from hell by Bourne through a combination of coercion and persuasion, made him hesitate again.

"Brother Bourne is a level 4 professional, and he is basically unmatched at sea at the same level."

"Our team's members are superior to the guards on the opposing ship in every aspect, both in terms of numbers and professional level."

He comforted himself in his heart.

"We've made it through all these years."

"It should be alright, right..."

"..."

The role of the spellcaster is fully demonstrated at this moment.

The pirate ship, which should have been significantly weakened by the barrage of long-range arrows as it approached, suffered no casualties except for two unlucky sailors.

The distance between the two ships had been brought to an almost extreme.

Bourne could even see the young sailor on the opposite deck, holding a longbow, his face trembling violently with fear, and the dark-skinned middle-aged man's arm gripping a short sword, the veins bulging beneath his skin as he exerted force.

His lips twisted, and a cruel, bloodthirsty smile unconsciously appeared on his face.

"Hook and line! Ladder!"

With his roar, a dozen or so ropes with iron hooks were hurled out by the pirates who were already prepared at the edge of the deck. They drew cold arcs in the air and firmly gripped the hull, mast, and railings of the cargo ship opposite.

The pirates, their muscles bulging, pulled hard on the ropes. *Screech*

A sickening sound of wood cracking suddenly rang out, and the two ships were violently pulled closer.

collision!

The ship rocked violently, and the squeaking and rubbing of the wooden planks was deafening.

At the same time, the heavy gangplank embedded with iron nails was pushed through the gap between the ship's sides and slammed onto the opposite deck with a "bang".

"Brothers, charge with me!!"

Bourne roared and, with a burst of power from his legs, was the first to leap onto the springboard.

As the captain of the "Flying Fish Oil Barrel," and the strongest captain on the entire ship, he took the lead without hesitation in the brutal and bloody boarding battle.

This was the most dangerous position, and Bourne knew it all too well.

On the other hand, his incredibly rich experience as a pirate, and the ships that had either sunk to the depths of the ocean or been exchanged for glittering gold on the black market, gave him unparalleled confidence in himself.

"Om..."

A bluish light emanated from the surface of the scimitar in his hand, flickering erratically in the morning light, as if it were about to leap off the blade at any moment.

The "Azure Blade Warrior" class's signature combat skill upon reaching level 3 is "Leaping Slash".

This is a rare ranged combat skill among melee fighter classes.

It has long been honed to perfection, extending its attack range to five meters.

Behind him came the excited shouts of his brothers on the ship. Bourne gripped his scimitar tightly in his right hand, his muscles bulging with blood.

At this moment, he could even imagine in his mind the wonderful scene of the next second when he swung his sword, disemboweling the first few sailors with spears on the enemy ship, and leading his brothers to jump onto the cargo ship's deck for a bloody battle.

But just the next instant, a sudden, chilling wolf howl abruptly interrupted his thoughts.

"Wolf?"

"How could a creature like a wolf possibly exist at sea?"

Bourne was puzzled, but his gaze seemed to be drawn by a sudden, intense presence, and he subconsciously looked in the direction from which the wolf howl came.

hum-

【Night Mother's Gaze】Takes Effect.

My thoughts froze for a moment.

The excitement that had been building up because of the upcoming battle vanished in an instant, as if plunged into an ice cellar.

All thoughts and fighting spirit were instantly wiped out.

In that instant, it was as if his entire world consisted only of that deep, twisted thing pacing on the deck ahead.

Its mane, blacker than the dead of night, moved without wind; its dark wolf eyes were like a still, deep pool in a dense forest, and its blackish-gray canine teeth seemed to devour even the sunlight...

An indescribable, terrifying chill ran down my spine, and a nameless fear rose in my heart.

It was as if some non-existent natural enemy made Bourne instinctively want to throw away his scimitar and turn to run away.

But after all, he was an adventurer who had already made a name for himself in the area, so how could his willpower be so weak?

With just a slight lapse in concentration, he immediately overcame his fear and regained consciousness.

"What the hell!?"

He couldn't help but wonder.

Strangely, when he looked back at the spot, the enormous wolf with its jet-black mane had vanished without a trace.

"Ok?"

Chi la——

A fierce gust of wind surged from behind, the crew's excited shouts abruptly ceased, and the all-too-familiar sound of flesh being torn apart made the experienced captain realize something.

The scimitar in his hand, whose azure light had long since dissipated, unconsciously loosened its grip, twisted his body, and turned to look back.

Pupils suddenly contracted!

A moment of distraction...

It was just a fleeting moment of distraction.

The two sailors who had been closely following behind him were now nothing more than a large, unrecognizable mass of broken limbs and flesh riddled with holes.

The crowd thronging in front of the diving board was suddenly blasted away, clearing a path paved with blood and chunks of flesh.

Even a rogue teammate on the ship, whose professional level was as high as lv2, lost his left arm as if he had been accidentally caught in the crossfire and was lying on the deck next to him screaming in pain.

My gaze followed the trail of blood backward.

It eventually came to rest in the very center of the deck.

"Tick."

Warm, viscous, scarlet blood gushed and dripped, seeping into the gaps between the decks.

There were no screams, nor any resistance whatsoever.

Grass Snail, the only mage in the "Flying Fish Oil Barrel" adventurer team, remained standing in the same spot.

Standing under the protection of everyone, in the safest rear.

The silk robe swayed gently in the sea breeze, revealing a pair of exquisite but slightly worn leather boots beneath the hem. These boots belonged to the wealthy merchant whom Bourne had met on his first voyage, and had been personally removed from the corpse's feet by Bourne.
His pale hands still gripped the staff tightly, the grip extending from the back of his hands to the depths of his sleeves. The scars from his childhood twitched slightly as the muscles beneath his skin swelled.

But further up, along the arms, chest...

That face, which had matured through six years of piracy, shedding its original naivety and ignorance, and gradually growing more mature amidst endless killing and plunder, had vanished from its neck.

Only streams of glaring blood remained, gushing out intermittently like a fountain from the severed flesh and bones.

The extremely sharp blade, combined with the [Fang Hunt] enhancement, has an exaggerated speed that far exceeds the reaction ability of ordinary people.

Not a single drop of blood stained the surface of the [Emberfall] straight sword.

The head, whose face still retained the focused expression it had when casting spells in life, was now being held up like a lantern by five long, strong fingers, which were grasping its hair.

It was set against the backdrop of the wails and fear echoing in the air.

His dark eyes were calm and unwavering as he looked past the crowd and stared at the frozen face of Bourne on the diving board ahead, where a lingering sinister grin remained.

Xia Nan loosened his left hand.

Let the head fall to the ground.

(End of this chapter)