Genshin Impact: I Am a Slime

The atmosphere on the deck suddenly plummeted to freezing point, as if frozen by invisible frost.

Beidou looked at Ningguang, Zhongli, and the Traveler who had suddenly fallen silent beside him, tilted his head in confusion, and broke the silence in a carefree manner.

"Hey, you guys, why are you all suddenly so quiet? Have you all become mute?"

She was indeed the one kept in the dark. Everyone knew Famas's true identity, except for Beidou, who was unaware of the red-haired boy's true identity.

In her eyes, the only strange boy standing out in the ranks of the Fools of Pantalone was a young man whose attire and demeanor were completely out of place with the cold, gloomy soldiers around him.

Ningguang's crimson eyes turned to Zhongli, carrying a silent question.

However, Zhongli merely turned slightly to the side, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon, his hands behind his back, his expression calm and serene, as if he had not received Ningguang's almost tangible gaze at all.

He perfectly played the role of an outsider who knew nothing about the matter, completely deflecting Ningguang's silent question.

The silent stalemate lasted for a moment. A complex light flashed in Ningguang's eyes, which eventually turned into a barely audible sigh. She withdrew her gaze and turned to Captain Beidou, the only one who was still out of the loop and looking around in confusion.

"Captain Beidou".

Ningguang's voice regained its usual coolness and decisiveness, carrying an unquestionable tone that cut off all hesitation.

"There's no need to wait any longer, order the attack."

"Tsk, so mysterious..."

Beidou pursed her lips and muttered a complaint under her breath. She was clearly puzzled by Ningguang's silent decision, but as the ruler of the Death Star, her inherent decisiveness instantly overwhelmed her doubts.

Without the slightest hesitation, Beidou raised his right arm, his five fingers together, and deftly made an attack gesture that all the crew members knew by heart, pointing towards the lookout tower at the top of the mast.

Xu Liushi, on the lookout tower, was already on high alert, his eyes instantly catching the captain's hand signal below.

Without hesitation, he leaned forward and yanked the control lever of the specially made high-intensity signal light fixed to the railing with both hands.

In an instant, three blinding, short, purple-white flashes containing lightning elements tore through the night sky, followed by a dazzling beam of light that lasted for several seconds, piercing the deep night sky.

This is the highest-level immediate attack signal for the Southern Cross fleet.

This silent command, swifter than any shout, instantly pierced the sea's mist and darkness, projecting the captain's will onto the bridges of the Southern Cross fleet, which stood ready like iron wings around the Death Star.

The observer on the attached bridge quickly confirmed the signal, and then the blue and red lights turned on, sweeping across the sea to lock onto the target, responding to the flagship's orders, and also illuminating the cold muzzles of the guns by the portholes of each ship.

In an instant, all the ships, like a pack of wolves that had heard the horn of their prey, billowed their huge sails to their fullest extent, turned their bows in unison, and formed a sharp arrow formation with the Death Star as the arrowhead, cutting through the waves and charging headlong toward the Yermak fleet at an astonishing speed.

On both sides of the ship, the cold, deadly ballistae began to hum, and blinding elemental light gathered at the muzzle.

The heavy basalt cannon's breech was quickly opened, and the loader forcefully pushed in the specially made rock element shells, the muzzle emitting a dull thud, ready to fire.

Meanwhile, on the towering lookout tower of the Yermak, the Fools' sailors caught a glimpse of the ferocious Southern Cross Fleet cutting through the waves and hurtling straight toward them in terror.

"Quickly! Signal, identify yourselves! Request to speak!"

The first mate and sailors of the Yermak roared orders to the soldiers on the lookout tower.

The flag bearer on the lookout tower, his hands trembling yet moving with incredible speed, manipulated the signal lights, sending out a series of specific ice-blue flashes that represented the official identity of the Winter Kingdom and a request for communication. The lights flickered rapidly in the night sky, like a desperate cry.

But all they received in response was deathly darkness.

The Southern Cross Fleet not only failed to respond to any identification or communication signals, but its engine roar became even more deafening, its sails billowed like a full moon, and its speed suddenly increased.

The massive fleet, like a swarm of sharks that have caught the scent of blood, charged forward with even greater ferocity, carrying the force to crush everything in its path.

The lookout sailor's face drained of color instantly, and cold sweat soaked his back.

An ominous premonition gripped his throat like a cold iron clamp, but he continued to repeat the peace signal over and over in vain, his fingers turning white from the effort, as if the flickering light was his last lifeline.

In stark contrast to the panic spreading on the lookout tower were two calm and collected figures on the deck.

Pantalone even leisurely adjusted his monocle, the Mora still twirling nimbly between his fingers, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

To him, this meticulously replicated fragment of body was nothing more than data that could be replaced at any time in the plan. Even if it were to vanish into thin air in this sea area at this moment, it would only be the loss of an expensive peripheral device. His main body, far away in winter, wouldn't even frown.

FAMAS, with his arms crossed, watched with great interest the imposing momentum of the Southern Cross Fleet's charge, as if he were watching a spectacular rehearsal of fireworks at sea.

With the power of the Daedric God he regained during the Liyue War, even if someone were to press the muzzle of the Returning Machine's crossbow to his forehead and pull the trigger, the raging elemental torrent would probably not be able to budge a single hair on his head.

On the contrary, the intricately designed Returning Machine is likely to be unable to withstand the terrifying energy backlash from bombarding the Demon God's body and will be blown into a pile of expensive scrap metal on the spot.

However, the captain's composure and the demon's fearlessness could not quell the turmoil in the hearts of the ordinary fool soldiers and debt collectors on board.

When they saw their own peace signal disappear without a trace, and the enemy fleet was so close that they could see the menacing rams and the cold glint of their cannons, the Fools soldiers and debt collectors on board were thrown into a brief state of chaos.

The piercing alarm instantly tore through the deathly silence on the Yermak. After repeated attempts to signal with lights only resulted in silence, despair gripped the sailors on the lookout tower.

His hoarse roar echoed throughout the ship through the megaphone:
"Enemy attack! An unidentified fleet is refusing to communicate and is approaching at high speed!"

Almost simultaneously, the pale-faced first mate of the Yermak stumbled onto the aft deck, panting heavily as he ran to Pantalone, his voice trembling with tension:
"Lord Pantarone! The unidentified fleet ahead is refusing to respond to our signals and is heading straight for us. Should we order the fleet to make an emergency turn and give way?"

Pantalone turned his head slightly, the moonlight drawing a cold arc across his monocle, his gaze calmly sweeping over the temporary first mate, whose body was stiff with tension and fear.

"avoid?"

He repeated the word softly, the almost mocking smile on his lips deepening.

Pantalone's voice was not loud, but it clearly pierced through the screech of the alarm and the howling of the sea wind, carrying a chilling certainty.

"No need. That's not an unidentified fleet, but the Southern Cross of Liyue, hunters who have come to take our lives."

He slowly turned around, facing the Death Star, which was charging towards him like a giant whale breaking through the waves, and the massive arrow-shaped fleet behind it. Pantalone's voice suddenly turned cold, like ice shattering.

"Order all ships to prepare to engage the enemy."

This chilling command, like a final death knell, struck the hearts of every Fool's soldier on deck, extinguishing even the last glimmer of hope in their hearts. (End of Chapter)