The Sea Race

"Brother Ming! We were attacked!"

A group of players rushed out of the Hall of Resurrection, their faces pale with shock.

"Attacked?" He Yiming's gaze sharpened.

"It was… fish people," one player gasped, still clutching his phantom wounds. "They came out of nowhere! Their bone spears went right through Colored Arm like it was nothing!"

Another player, red-haired and still damp from his recent death, stepped forward. "They called themselves the Sea Race. Said this land belongs to them. And… they talked about eating us."

The temperature around He Yiming seemed to drop.

The Sea Race.

He had only read about them in ancient texts. Ocean-dwelling creatures, violent and insatiable. They raided coastal settlements, reveling in human flesh.

And now, they had come here.

"Disciples, gather."

His voice carried through the sect, calm yet absolute.

Players immediately dropped what they were doing.

"The Sea Race has appeared at the foot of the mountain. Until I return, do not leave the sect." Without another word, He Yiming turned and descended the mountain.

Naturally, the players ignored his warning.

"Hold the grass! The Sea Race is here?"

"A new race? Is this a world event?"

"I gotta see Brother Ming clap these fishmen!"

In seconds, a crowd of players abandoned their work, rushing after him, eyes gleaming with excitement.

Before the duration of an incense stick…

"Colored Arm!"

A red-haired player roared as his fist, wrapped in spiritual energy, smashed into a War Hunchback Beast's skull. The force sent him skidding back ten meters, but he only spat out some dirt and grinned.

"Another one down!"

A leather-jacketed player moved in, tying the beast's corpse with a rope, ready to haul it back.

Then a sharp whistle cut through the air.

Before the red-haired player could react, a bone spear punched clean through his shoulder, nailing him to a tree.

His breath hitched.

The leather-jacketed player turned and saw Seven figures stood at the tree line.

Scales gleamed under the sunlight, slick and cold. Their faces were stretched and alien, neither human nor beast, but something in between. Slitted eyes gleamed with hunger. Gills fluttered on their cheeks. Bone spears, still wet with blood, rested in their claws.

Murlocs.

"What the hell are those?"

"They look like raid mobs from an ocean dungeon!"

A deep, guttural chuckle.

"Humans dare to return here…?"

The Murloc leader raised a clawed hand.

"Kill them."

They attacked.

"Colored Arm!"

The leather-jacketed player barely had time to react before a spear pierced his chest.

One-shot kill.

The red-haired player's face drained of color. "Who… are you?"

The Murloc leader tilted his head, amused.

"We are the noble Sea Race. And you? Just meat."

Panic shot through the red-haired player.

"Screw this,I'm out!"

Yanked the spear from his shoulder, as he turned to flee,he heard murlocs faintly say.

"Water Control Technique."

A roaring wave erupted from nothing, sweeping him off his feet.

His head broke the surface, eyes wild. "Where the hell did a river come from?! This is a forest!"

The Murloc leader stepped onto the water as if walking on solid ground. He lifted his spear.

Splat.

The river turned red.

"Pathetic," the Murloc leader scoffed.

The other Murlocs laughed, their voices a guttural mix of gurgles and clicks.

"The humans a hundred years ago were warriors. But these?"

"They're weaker than our children."

"Hahaha, Captain, you've never tasted human flesh before, right?"

The leader licked his lips. "Then let's feast."

Across the mountain base, more players fell.

Some fought back, but their techniques, so effective against beasts, were useless against the Murlocs' superior weapons.

Some tried to run, only to be swept into waiting spears.

Within minutes, the ground was littered with corpses.

The Murlocs stood amidst the carnage, triumphant.

"Too easy!"

"They barely put up a fight!"

"This sect is a joke!"

The Murloc leader sneered. "Then why stop here?" He pointed his spear up the mountain. "If the disciples are this weak, their master must be even weaker."

Laughter rippled through the group.

"Kill them all!"

They surged forward and heard a voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Who do you think you're going to kill?"

The world stilled.

The Murlocs halted as an overwhelming pressure crashed down on them.

A single figure stood in their path.

He Yiming.

His robe fluttered in the wind. His expression was unreadable.

The Murloc leader sneered. "And who—"

Boom.

The ground beneath He Yiming cracked.

A shockwave erupted, shaking the earth. The air itself seemed to turn heavy, pressing down with crushing force.

The Murlocs staggered.

The leader's breath hitched. "This… this pressure…"

Fear slithered into their spines.

And then..

He Yiming moved.