Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 548: Chapter 331: Fishman Calamity (Part 2)

Another kind is called directional Magic Explosion Bullet: After fixing it on the rock and igniting it, it will cause that spot to collapse immediately.

Louis nodded, but didn’t overlook the details: “Will the tide wash away these Magic Explosion Bullets?”

Hillco’s gaze became serious: “We put floating mud blocks in shells with anchor hooks, after tossing them in, first hook the anchor into rock crevices or wreckage, then tighten it with a short rope, so the tide can’t move it.

The outer layer of the directional Magic Explosion Bullet is wrapped with a splash-proof pack, inside there is a small timer fuse and a slow-burning core, giving you enough time to retreat.

Simply put, stabilize the items first, then leave.

He explained very thoroughly, and not only Louis nodded, but Eliot beside him also nodded repeatedly.

Louis turned his gaze to Eliot: “Eliot, take thirty men, infiltrate the Fishman’s lair, use these two kinds of Magic Explosion Bullets to eliminate these Fishmen, can you do it?”

Eliot looked at the two items in Hillco’s hands and said firmly: “It can be done, sir.”

Then he began to think about the details of his tactics and spoke them out: “With a hundred Knights, it’s more than enough.

The first team will scout and pave the way; the second team carries floating mud blocks and directional Magic Explosion Bullets for setup and securing; the third team provides cover and emergency retreat support.

Everyone carries floating mud blocks and three directional bullets, along with ropes, anchor hooks, and diving gear.

Time should be chosen when the fish population is thinnest, the first team reconnoiters near the shore to confirm safety, the second team simultaneously dives in from both sides to deploy and secure, the third team covers from the outside.

If there is a counterattack within the cave, the third team uses fire tubes and signal bullets to attract attention, ensuring the retreat path is open. The sticky mud must solidify within the scheduled time, directional bullets are operated by experienced Knights, never let the recruits operate alone.

Louis interrupted: “What if the return flow blocks the path or small boats are hindered from landing?”

Eliot responded immediately: “There are three safeguards: tidal windows, firepower on shore and smoke screens for cover, and emergency explosive closure of side walls as a last resort for buying retreat time. Of course, that’s the last resort.”

“Casualties?” Louis pursued an answer.

“Target is zero casualties, but preparing for the worst case. Injured are to be brought back to the near-shore medical station by small boats immediately; if trapped, teams cover and prioritize rescue with firepower from shore.”

Louis closed his notebook, gazing at the horizon, calmly commanded: “First do two rounds of drills nearby: test the deployment and securing onshore, complete retreat drill. Once everything meets standards, launch the attack as planned.

Remember, the attack must be clean and neat, the retreat even cleaner and neater, make sure everyone returns safely.”

Eliot nodded, his voice steady: “Please rest assured, sir.”

……

Phosphorescence flickers on the wet walls of the cave, reflecting grotesque faces.

This is the Fishmen’s nighttime feast, resembling some kind of ritual gathering.

Several strong adults strike each other with bone spears, as if testing strength, occasionally drawing blood.

Beside them, someone strings freshly torn sea beast innards into a chain, handing it to others to sniff, as if exchanging compliments.

The more mature ones smash captured shells into pieces, singing brief sneering laughter to some rhythm.

For them, such chaos is both entertainment and a way to maintain group order.

Right in the center of the feast, on a stone seat, the Fishman leader sits alone, head tilted back gazing at the stone wall, as if contemplating something.

A group of humans suddenly appeared on the shore, erecting wooden stakes and piling up a wooden enclosure, treating the beach they had long controlled as their backyard.

He once tried to raid them, attempting to regain control.

But several attacks failed, even the largest one was ambushed and slaughtered by humans, forcing them to leave behind almost half of the warriors.

Yet this didn’t make him feel despondent, only angry.

He’s determined to block these shore invaders one by one, no longer allowing them to place claws in the shallows.

Of course, the previous failures have made him aware that he can’t charge as recklessly as before, cunning strategies must be used.

If direct confrontation doesn’t work, lure them into deeper areas with trickery, then finish them all.

The corners of his mouth slightly upward, calculating how the next attack should be more hidden and deadlier.

Of course, he doesn’t know, at this moment on the other side of Sunken Wave Reef, a group of silhouettes are slowly but orderly moving.

……

Rocks are soaked, seaweed sways, like a silent warning.

The Red Tide Knights dressed in black shallow garments, infiltrated amongst reefs and sea mist in multiple rows, every motion striving for silence.

Eliot stands on a small boat, his swimming skills are not strong, but for this operation, he still came to the frontline as the commander.

He wears a gray cloak, ready with various signal bullets for emergency.

“Forty-five minutes after the tide ebbs, flow speed enters a calm phase.” A Knight knowledgeable about waters reports softly nearby.

Eliot exhales a breath filled with chill, orders in a low voice: “First team, go.”

Upon the command, tiny ripples appear on the water’s surface.

The first team slips into the nocturnal sea like fish, all chosen meticulously from Red Tide, Knights skilled in water.

Their diving suits cling to their skin, Magic Explosion Bullets pressed into specialized backpacks, floating mud blocks tied at the waist, anchor hooks wound between finger bones, heading towards various points of Sunken Wave Reef.

The task is to uncover the terrain of this reef and the location of the Fishmen.

“Gurgle… Gurgle…”

Three stealth Knights slowly swim to the crack’s edge, the leader places a hand on the companion’s shoulder, signaling to pause.

Then they quietly approach the cave wall, cautiously extending their upper bodies.

“Seen it.”

They have never seen the Fishmen’s revelry up close like this before.

The cave arches, centrally there is a sunken stone tray, packed with torn sea beast remnants.

Dozens of Fishmen, some marking each other with bone spears, some swing their arms tossing fish bone pins towards the top rock, some even snatch a string of slimy innards, biting each other.

The scene is bloody and bizarre, blood mist gradually spreading underwater.

The Red Tide Knights remain motionless watching this scene.

Even a single bubble could trigger a frantic riot among these creatures.

Silent eye contact.

The leader slowly raises his hand, gesturing: “Retreat.”

The other two nod, without any hesitation, swiftly retract back.

Turning and diving into the shadows, not disturbing the water behind them at all, leaving silently as if never been.

Returning to the near shore, swiftly climbing back onto the commander’s boat.

The leader sketches symbols with water on a stone slab: “Target confirmed, most Fishmen gathered inside cave for feast, patrol sparse.”

Eliot takes the stone slab, feeling pleased.

He orders quietly: “Second team, down.”

Second team’s silhouettes quietly leap into the sea, dividing left and right paths, diving towards Fishman lair from both wings of Sunken Wave Reef.

They move like silent shadows, cruising close to the rock wall, progressing very orderly and quietly.

Two-man groups, one grips the thrower shell, the other protects the side flank, blocking possible drifting currents.

Floating mud blocks wrapped in oilcloth, shells twined with slip-proof layers and waterproof short ropes, hooks’ tips gleaming faintly.

Knight reaches the rock groove, deftly pushes the shell into the recess, swiftly drawing out the rope, anchor hooks drive deep into the rock wall, rope is pulled, tied, folded securely.

The protector retrieves a directional Magic Explosion Bullet from a waterproof bag, embeds it into the run-off side wall recess.

Fuse coils around the rock mouth, slow-burning core inserted into reserved mouth, finally the safety pin clicks shut.

From the first floating mud block deployment to the final directional bullet securement completion, a full ten minutes, without any error.

At the twenty-fifth minute, under the third team’s protection and reception, all deployers have quietly retreated to the assembly points, no one missing, clean and neat actions, after all, they’ve practiced over ten times.

Eliot crouches on the small boat, clutching a pocket watch in one hand, eyes fixed on the waves.

He counts silently in his heart: “…Twenty-six… Twenty-seven…”