Chapter 87_87643, dinner is quite tasteless.

Morriel had little interest in dried fish, corned beef, and cured chicken feet, and she wouldn't have much to do at the table if it weren't for the fact that the Wine Queen did have some decent wine stored on it. Forty-seven naturally ate nothing, though he could chew and swallow even if he were given a live cow - and then spit it out.

"Of course, no problem!" Simon forked a thin slice of beef, "That's where I'm going, and the poor Fantasy is supposed to be there...... Speaking of which, I haven't been back to the beautiful Pearl Islands for a while -- praise the gods, praise the Pearl Islands! It is a distribution center for free sailors, and the only way to connect the north and south seas!"

Simon put down his fork, so the first mate, second and third mate, who were accompanying him at the table, had to stop eating, and it was rude for the captain to eat by himself while he spoke.

"However, honorable mage, could you please tell me if the Argus Empire has really collapsed completely?" Simon asked tentatively, "The situation there is so chaotic now, and Argus has always been more strict with us free sea travelers in the past, so that now he can't even get any accurate information......

Morriel took a sip of red wine. It seems that Simon thinks of her as Argus's exile mage, but she has no intention of denying it: "As far as I know, it hasn't gotten completely out of control. Is Your Excellency the Captain interested in trading with the present Argus?"

"Haha......" Simon smiled and looked at Forty-Seven beside Moriel, "It's not about trade." I don't have to hide from you what I do, as long as it's profitable, I'll sell anything, even if it's not very visible...... Argus's construction machines have always been a rare and sought-after item on the black market, and who doesn't want to have one who obeys orders and never betrays. And bodyguards and killers who are not afraid of danger and death?"

Forty-Seven put the fork in his mouth, and when he took it out, it was already completely deformed, and the twisting iron bar was already completely deformed, and this action caused Simon to immediately divert his gaze.

"Captain Simon, I have some questions. Morrill duly changed the subject: "I've never traveled at sea before, and I've heard some stories about shark-like attacks on fleets, but it's actually my first time experiencing it. Judging from the traces left behind by the Fantasy and the results I got from using the spells, the Fantasy was attacked by surprise and had no precautions in advance...... Is this a common thing? I mean, shark-men would be so light to assault a not-so-small ship like the Fantasy. Don't leave a single mouth alive?"

"In fact, if you're attacked by a shark-man, that's usually the case. We can't fight against the Shark Fishmen, who are the overlords of the sea, have a very strong sense of territory, and especially hate the land species that enter their territory, treating us as food, and even worse, the Shark Fishmen usually regard the entire ocean as their territory! Because you don't have anywhere to run in the sea. With the exception of a handful of particularly tough sea creatures, there is little to stand up to against the shark-like fishmen who hunt in groups...... However, usually the worst-case scenario is relatively rare, because although the range of shark fish and people is very varied, there is still a pattern to follow, and we will try to avoid them and not provoke them. With that, Simon looked at his first mate, the male sea elf.

Compared to their land counterparts, sea elves can be said to be much more ordinary in appearance. It can even be said to be ugly. Except for a pair of pointed ears that looked like an elf, the first mate was slightly rickety, his face was narrow, his skin and thin aquatic weed-like hair were bright green, and his face was covered with pimples the size of dark cyan rice grains, and a pair of blue eyes were surprisingly small. It seems that a pair of soybeans are inlaid on both sides of the flat nose, from the sides of the slender neck to the gills, there are slightly opening and closing cracks, which are the gills of the sea elf, there are faint traces of water stains between the breaths, and his hands are wet on the table, and the membrane between the fingers makes his hands look like frogs' feet. Not to mention that this sea sub-elf race is not to mention compared with the beautiful and noble night elves, even from the general aesthetics of human beings, it is enough to be sorry for the title of elf.

"Huh...... The females in the sea elves are actually very beautiful, even among the male sea elves. I'm also inferior in this way. The first mate of the sea elf named Luo Er obviously did not have the domineering attitude of ordinary elves, but he seemed very easy-going when he spoke: "As the same marine race, we sea elves have always been the mortal enemies of the shark-fish-people, and in the long battle with them, we have gradually mastered the method of detecting the movements of the shark-fish-people in the sea, even if we are a few miles away, we can smell the stench of these evil creatures...... So although it is difficult for us to win the head-to-head battle with the Shark Fishman in the sea, it is not so easy for the Shark Fishman to catch us. Generally speaking. As long as your human ships are going to sea, even if they are powerful. Large fleets equipped with a large number of soldiers and even mages will also try to bring sea elves as much as possible, first, we are familiar with the hydrology and celestial phenomena of the sea, and secondly, to avoid recklessly breaking into the sea area where sharks and fishmen are active. ”

He rubbed his chin barely, "But this attack is a bit strange. As far as I know, the Fantasy has been heavily employed by a sea elf sailor for a long time, and I have met him twice. If, as you said, they were attacked without any warning, weren't the sea elves on the ship? This is basically impossible, the old guy in charge of the Fantasy has been so timid in recent years that he is afraid of capsizing in the ditch...... I've measured the temperature of the water, and we're sailing with a colder current, so it's not an area where sharks like to move......"

Morrill listened quietly. So...... Unusual voyages, unusual attacks. It's a little bit less simple.

There was a "snap", and a crack cracked in the solid table. Forty-seven drilled the wooden table with the fork that he turned into a spiral awl, and suddenly exerted too much force. Faced with Moriel's vicious gaze, he stood up nonchalantly and walked out.

Looking at Forty-Seven who had left the captain's room, Simon's fingers twitched slightly: "Honorable Mage, your retinue is such a terrible thing!"

"Captain Simon, I've advised you to say as little as possible about 'stuff'. Morriel poured another glass, and she had drunk a lot of wine tonight: "Otherwise, if you say it in front of him." I'm afraid I'll experience what it means to be scary. ”

The stern of the Queen of Red Wine stretched out several thick cables, and the other end of the cable was connected to the bow of the Fantasy, whether it was a pirate or a merchant, this kind of empty drifting ship would of course immediately take it for itself if it saw it, no matter who his original owner was, what you see is what you get, this is the logic of profit driven by the ground, and it is reasonable

Target. Benefit...... Suddenly, Forty-Seven remembered the merchant Freys, who always used the word for it, and the paladin who always took truth for truth. They must have returned to the north a long time ago, and I don't know what kind of fun they will have when they encounter this situation.

"Why don't you just send someone over and get that ship up and running, it'll be faster. ”

A sailor on duty, who was half-crouching at the stern of the ship and laboriously dragging the rope, looked around, and when he saw that there was no one else, he was sure that the tall guest in armor was asking himself: "Oh, honorable guest, this is a ship that has been sacked by the fishmen, and perhaps there are lingering ghosts on it...... Who would dare to go up for the night!"

Forty-seven's red eyes officially turned to the sailor, a thin, thin young man with a dirty turban wrapped around his head. His naked upper body was scarred and horizontal, ribs were hanging under his skin, and his stomach kept bulging and shrinking with his breathing, as if he was breathing not with his chest, but with his abdomen.

"My name is Forty-Seven, your name?"

He didn't expect the guest to speak to him so politely, and the young man was stunned for a long time before he remembered to answer: "I, I am a slave on the ship, I have no name, but you can call me twenty-six." That's my number, honored guest...... Your name is Forty-Seven, are you also a slave?"

"Slave?" Forty-Seven leaned over to look at the stupid boy, and the slave sailor Twenty-Six found that the guest's face shone with a cold metallic luster, and a pair of eyes were blood-red, and the inside seemed to be boiling and exploding, as if it was an eternally burning lava world. He was so frightened that he sat down on the deck at once, and then immediately got up and knelt down and kowtowed: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, honorable guest, please forgive me......"

Without waiting for a whipping or a harsher punishment, the slave sailor had the courage to look up, the strange guest was gone.

Morrill struggled to find Forty-Seven, who was sitting motionless on the bow of the Fantasy, as if it were another sculpture next to the griffon's bow.

"What are you doing?" said Morrill as he stood on the stern of the Wine Queen and looked at Forty-Seven, though it was calm now. But Morrill was still not sure if Forty-Seven would be able to hear her: "Hey, do you hear me?"

Forty-seven looked at the female mage across from her, and suddenly hooked his finger at her.

Slave, that's an interesting word. In fact, to be precise, he is not even a slave, but just a tool, a tool for charging into battle on the battlefield of space where the artillery is flying, and engaged in killing and destroying. This seemingly frustrating identity has not actually aroused Forty-Seven's disgust, and it is even more nonsense to feel angry, humiliated, sad, and even bitter about his fate and take revenge - to say that he will lose control. Then it must be impossible to distinguish who to kill and who not to kill. In fact, there are not a few mechanical soldiers who were shot down by their own people because of the failure of the identity confirmation code. But today the reckless slave sailor still aroused a little thought in his mind.

Judging from the seaman's scrawny physique, there was no way for him to become a slave, but he was different. Even if he was once a slave, he was enough to easily get rid of this status...... To be sure, even Moriel can't control herself. The encounter in the mage tower is actually more of an option, a very natural and simple choice, the gun needs to be used to kill, just like when you lose contact with the base, you search all bands to find a new synthetic electronic voice to inform you what target you want to attack next, if the white-haired mage didn't die at the beginning, then you will choose him.

But that's just the beginning. In this world, more often than not, you need to judge for yourself. What to do, what not to do, who to kill, who not to kill...... That's why he tried to talk to Singh at the end, but the old bastard didn't give face. When you are no longer watching, you are in the cartoon. Then a question worth pondering arises: When faced with a person, can there be other richer choices? Just like if Superman took off the red underwear he was wearing, changed his clothes and secretly screwed off Lex's head, wouldn't it be a lot less troublesome? It's really strange, why is Superman so dead-eyed? Just like ...... That's right, like a paladin. Oops, it seems like I'm back to the simple way of thinking of ruining or not. Think differently, think differently......

Am I already questioning the behavioral goals that I was created to implant in the center?

Forty-seven was taken aback by the idea. Hell it, that's not a good sign. According to unreliable sources, thinking about why I am here? What is the meaning of me saving zài? What is the meaning of the universe? This kind of question has completely broken a super intelligent brain, such a stupid idea should only be used by low-level human beings in a daze when they are bored, and a mechanical warrior like himself should act quickly, have a clear purpose, only fire, and do not ask questions.

Morrill had reached the middle of the thick cable that connected the two ships. On the rough sea. The boats were swaying with the waves, not to mention the rope that connected the two boats, but Morriel was not only calm, but also swayed with the momentum as if he were stuck to the rope and became a part of it, quite light.

"If you don't become a mage one day, you can go to the circus and find a job. It wasn't until Morriel stepped onto the bow of the Fantasy and stepped onto the solid deck that Forty-Seven spoke.

I'll just think you're complimenting me, and she's much gentler than usual like her landlord: "What are you doing here?"

"I'm thinking. ”

"Oh? I'd rather believe you're dozing off. ”

"Can I take that you think I don't have a brain?"

"You don't have a brain. This does not need to be considered. Morrill simply sat down beside Forty-Seven, "But I don't think you're thoughtless...... It wasn't that way a long time ago. So I'd rather you choose to think more at some point, rather than smash everything you see like an orc. ”

"It's difficult, and it's never been my job to make a battle plan. ”

"You're weird today......"

"Really?"

"The night breeze is cool, it's the first time I've spent the night at sea......" Morriel stood up, shrunk back, and turned to walk from the cable to the Queen of Red Wine: "You can think slowly here." I'll have to go back and prepare a few spells that are better suited for traveling at sea. ”

For the next few days, the Queen of Wine rode the waves along the established route. Morrill spends most of his time in the cabin, flipping through the spellbooks Kiscain had given him—and now, the demons of the three mages of Argus

It's all hers, and there's so much new to learn.

"Honorable guest, please do not do this, it may attract very ferocious sea creatures!" said Twenty-Six, the sailor, who was trembling and hiding aside, admonishing Forty-Seven, who was sitting by the side of the boat in the mist, did not know where he had obtained the rod and line, and it was all metal. Even a pulley with a pull string, the bait is an unlucky seabird, floating and sinking among the waves.

Forty-seven glanced at him, and twenty-six shuddered violently.

"In ancient times, there was a guy named Ren Gongzi who used a big hook and a thick rope and put fifty cows as bait to catch a fish nine miles long, and the waves that shook when fishing were as high as mountains, and the sound spread a thousand miles away. Let the whole country eat and never want to eat fish and meat again, do you think I am inferior to him? Hurry up! Pour blood into the sea!"

"I'm ......" Twenty-Six rolled his little eyes. I was so choked that I couldn't say anything. Is this Ren Gongzi a god? Surely he is a god. He did not dare to slack off, so he picked up the iron bucket and scattered all the fish and blood into the sea.

"Don't worry, kid. Ren Gongzi has been fishing this fish for a year, and I don't have that much time...... Hell, how did the fog get so big all of a sudden?"

Forty-seven and twenty-six aside, Captain Simon and First Officer Rohr were now standing in the door of Morriel's room worriedly.

"Honorable mage......" First Officer Rohr was drenched, as if he had just come up from the sea, "I'm afraid we need your help." ”

Morriel followed them to the deck, and found that the mist that had been hanging over the sea for days had become very thick - and even the Fantasy was fainting from time to time. Three lights were hung on the Wine Queen, but they were better than nothing, and they didn't do much, and the lookout who was climbing on the mast waved helplessly at Captain Simon on the deck. Signal doesn't see anything at all.

"I'm a little worried. Simon's face was heavy: "According to Rohr's calculations, the fog at this time is too abnormal, and it has reached the point of affecting navigation." We are already approaching the Pearl Islands, and if we do not solve this problem, we may accidentally have a solid kiss with the dense reefs on the outskirts of the islands, which would be too bad, and this ship is - forget it, not to mention. ”

"That's right. Rohr frowned at the skin on his brow bone: "I kind of doubt that we have deviated from the familiar course. Because I feel that the waters here are very unfamiliar...... You can't find a sense of familiarity in the sea. ”

"What do you want me to do?" Morrill asked, looking at the shifting mist.

Simon rubbed his hands: "Although I'm really embarrassed to say it, those of us who have been begging for a living at sea all year round don't know the way, but respected mage, I have to ask you to help us confirm the route, or judge our location, this damn fog, even the compass seems to have been out of order!"

Morriel didn't say anything and began to prepare to cast the spell. Forty-Seven continued to fish, but had already set his sights on this side. Simon and Rohr cautiously stepped away. Avoid disturbing the mage, and avoid being mistaken for malicious intentions by the construct.

It didn't take long for Morriel to return to normal, turning his head to look at Rohr.

"First mate Rohr, you said that the sea elves can predict the movements of the shark-turned fish-man?"

"That's right, we can tell where the shark-fish people are—what's wrong?"

Morrill motioned for Forty-Seven to come.

"Captain Simon, I think it's time to get ready for battle, I have a hunch that I've seen a shark turn into a fishman!"

Rohr was shocked: "This is impossible! I didn't feel any trace of them when I was in the sea!"

"What do you see? They attack us?" Simon did not question the possibilities in Moriel's words as Rohr did, and his philosophy was always to prepare for the best and prepare for the worst.

"I don't know, the premonition can only be a little fragmented picture forever. I can't infer too much—"

The Queen of Red Wine slammed and tilted, making everyone except Forty-Seven unsteady on their feet, and before it could return to its normal state, another collision was followed by the Fantasy hitting the Queen of Red Wine's buttocks.

Hit the rocks?

"!" Simon cursed. Finally, he showed a more captain-like trait: "Pigs, what are you doing in a daze! Go to the bilge to check the damage! Get your weapons ready!"

"Oh my god, what is this?" Captain Simon leaned out from the edge of the ship, holding his torch and looking down at a large area of shadows hidden in the fog, "Is this the thing that broke my Wine Queen?

It was like a large piece of floating garbage made up of different ship wrecks, and it was quite large. Kelp and algae weave these inexplicable things together, not only the top of the Red Wine Queen is slightly tilted, but the wooden thorns on the top have caused quite serious damage to the hull, and even hit several holes.

The sailors also lay on the side of the ship, wondering in horror what it was, was it really just drifting in the ocean? Never before had they seen such a large ...... Suddenly there was a loud shout. It scared everyone.

Recently, the sailors jumped nervously, and the many iron rings worn on the ears, noses, mouths, etc., clanged. After reacting, he slapped the slave twenty-six with his backhand: "***, what's the ghost called!

Twenty-six was beaten up, but he still pointed his finger underneath, and his face was frightened: "People ......"

Morriel stretched out his hand with a solemn face, and a fierce wind blew downward. The strong air currents created by the "wind-making technique" temporarily dispersed the fog and allowed people to see more clearly.

People indeed. At least two arms and three feet were exposed on the surface of the floating garbage, while the rest were firmly trapped in the depths - the limbs were already soaked and swollen.

"Oh no!" Rohr suddenly shouted as well, "This is a nest of the Shark Fishman!"

A sharp cracking sound pierced the mist. Then came a third cry overhead—the screams of despair when death came.

The lookout was firmly nailed to his post with a long fork, and blood flowed down the mast.

More projected spear forks followed. The sound of popping and popping was also heard from all directions, getting louder and denser, as if thousands of frogs were swimming together.

"Throw the oil on fire!" Simon didn't think about it. Touching his waist, he threw out a bottle of brown liquid in each hand: "Release the rocket!"

The sailors were startled by Moriel's snacks, although they were poorly dressed and had different weapons, and they were all a rabble, but they were actually quite well-trained.

Almost as the oil bottle smashed on the water nest and shattered,

The oilclothed rocket also hit there, and immediately a raging fire burst into flames, revealing the hideous figure.

Most of them are green all over, and the smallest ones are more than a dozen feet if you count the tails. Dotted with a chaotic array of spots and streaks, bone spurs on the back of the head that stretched to the tail, two black eyes the size of Moriel's fist, a mouth that almost halved their heads in half, bayonet-like teeth, and webbed limbs disproportionately thick compared to their streamlined bodies, trampled on the water on the nest, ignoring the spreading fire and pounced on it menacingly.

There are only three arrows in battle. Moreover, these fish-men were simply mutated giant frogs, rushing to the side of the boat in three jumps and two jumps, and unless they were shot in the eye, they could not affect their movements at all, and some of the arrows that missed a little bit actually grazed their wet and slippery skin.

The shark-man who had been climbing the edge of the boat was holding on to the railing of the boat with both hands, and jumped up to give the disgusting sea elf in front of him a head-on kick on the ballista, and as a result, the shark-man who was facing the ballista was immediately carried away by the huge spear and arrow that shot out.

But that's just a few. More Selenosmen quickly boarded the Wine Queen, wielding spears, forks, nets, and even simply attacking the sailors with their sharp claws and teeth.

Simon's rapier pierced through the left eye of a sechranoid fishman. The right eye pierced, this kind of "eye-piercing" sword skill immediately made the three-hundred-pound murderous fishman whimper, a smuggling captain has this kind of ability, it is really hidden.

However, the others were not so good at martial arts, and under the onslaught of the shark-like fishmen, the sailors quickly suffered casualties - both in strength and speed. None of them can compare with this marine predator, and more shark-like fish-people are flocking, far more in number than sailors alone.

Now it's up to that mage. Simon thought as he broke free from the sandwich between the two fishmen and stayed back-to-back with Rohr.

Morrill did not sit idly by.

After the Selenta-man attacked, Morriel raised his hands to gather his strength. Crackling lightning quickly took shape between her slender hands, and between the ten fingers facing each other, there was a dancing electric fire like a snake.

Morriel waited, then raised his hand, and a dazzling flash of lightning jumped out of her palm, swept across the deck, and struck a shark-man who had just jumped onto the ship. The terrible electric shock immediately caused it to twitch and scorch, and in an instant it turned black—and that was not all, for the lightning leaped out as if it were alive, splitting into two strands and striking the other two fishmen, and then turning into four thinner bolts of lightning scattered in all directions.

The timing was perfect, and the lightning bolts swept through almost all parts of the ship that had been taken over by the shark-like fishmen, and they didn't affect the sailors at all, which was a miracle for a chain of lightning that was not divided between friend and foe.

In an instant, morale was boosted.

Forty-seven stood by Morriel's side and stood by. I don't know where the fishing rod went: "I can't see it, you're also full of spicy!"

Morrill glanced at Forty-Seven. Ignoring this vulgar compliment, the fireworks-like array of magical missiles immediately pounced on the injured but not dead shark fish, and with only these two blows, people who don't know may think that she is a plastic mage.

"Kill these disgusting fish!" shouted Simon, taking advantage of the opportunity to lead the sailors in a counterattack, and for a moment they had the upper hand - until a massive sea monster-like shark-like fishman leaped onto deck.

Its skin is different from the gray-black of ordinary fishmen, and there are no hard bone spurs on its body, and a pair of black eyes on its head that are almost no different from sharks are dull and dull, revealing an indifferent and cold aura of death, and the most special thing is that this fish-man has two pairs of thick and long arms, holding four huge weapons, waving like a windmill, sweeping away an obstacle in front of it, and unstoppably rushing towards Moriel, who caused serious casualties to the fish-people.

Shark Fishman Chief!

Five missiles hit the Fish-Man Chieftain, who did not react.

"Over to you. Morriel raised an eyebrow.

The rusty axe slashed down with a fishy wind, and was then easily blocked by Forty-Seven's wrist. Before the other three hands could attack, the fish-man chief howled like a skinned frog. Forty-Seven let go of his hand, one of its arms hanging limply, broken bones piercing through the skin.

The fish-man chieftain's neck opened and closed violently, as if to rob every bit of moisture in the air to gather strength. Two greatswords and a mace slashed at Forty-Seven at the same time, trying to stop his enemies, but Forty-Seven's indestructible body meant that he didn't have to dodge the scrap metal rusted by the sea. All three weapons were broken, and Forty-Seven had already raised his hand to grab the fish-man's massive jaw, pulled it down, and slammed it into it with his knees raised his knees at the same time—Morriel, who was watching the battle, could be sure that at that moment forty-seven's knee armor had grown terrible spikes.

The entire jaw of the Fishman Chief was shattered by this blow. The fangs that didn't crumble were all embedded in the flesh, and slimy blood gushed out from the cracks of the rotten flesh, as if they had been slammed by a dozen strong men with a big mallet.

But the Shark-Man Chief isn't dead yet. Its strong vitality sustained it still twitching on the ground, flailing its claws wildly, trying to fight back, until Forty-Seven's fist tore its pointed head apart.

After losing the leader, although there are still many of the remaining shark-fish-people, they have fled, either burrowing into the nest or jumping into the sea, and all of them disappear after a while, which is quite a bit of a defeat - repelling the shark-fish crowd, such a feat is rare at sea.

As the shark-man leaves, the garbage-like nest begins to crumble, and Simon is not interested in confirming if it was their troublemaker in the sea, as the Queen of Wine has begun to enter the water and cracks.

"Quick!get the goods to the Fantasy!!!

Now no one cares about fish-man attacks and ghosts on board. Simon stood on the Fantasy as it gradually left the Fishman's lair and looked at the sinking Red Wine Queen, his face very ugly, but he still squeezed out a grateful smile at Moriel as he approached: "Thank you so much." If it weren't for you, you would really be the belly of those stinky fish this time. Luo Er made such a strict mistake...... The crew was quite unhappy, and hell, I had to wonder if he was still suitable for the position of first mate. ”

Was it really Rohr's mistake? Morriel thought as he looked at the still foggy sea. Forty-Seven is fishing again