The sand is getting wet

You have to shoot from the monsters from the front Salt-relic Remains of ancient spirits encroached on salt crystals. The more you get it right, the more the salt layer multiplies, which slows down the movement. Mist clutter an arm-length shadow that maintains its shape only in the fog. It takes away body temperature and sense of direction at the same time when making contact. Coral Breaker a coral crustacean monster. Every time it breaks, coral debris explodes. Tide Weaver Spirits that weave streams of water like threads to seal the space. Force change of travel path. Brace line. Oh my the existence of the wreckage moving on its own. Ghosts pour from within in the event of a collision. Fog Spectre (sic) a ghostly creature made of mist. Diversified and then reunited at the time of shooting. Sleeping kelp a tentacle creature that looks like seaweed. Forced drowsiness and hallucination during contact. Meyer Crowler A monster crawling only on the boundary of mud and water. He's jumping out of the ground and attacking his legs They shoot and attack from the front of the field And in front of him, he attacks from shots and triple blowers And from the front Quickly attack without stopping from continuous fire from the front You have to shoot. If you stop, you'll get caught. If you look back, you're surrounded. So a dryer only looks ahead. on the sand Salt crystals happen again. The wreckage of the broken spirit Slowly, but blocks the way. The salt multiplies as you fit it. The ground gets heavy My ankles are caught. Dryers shoot straight away. a diffused shot. It's not about dividing the crystal layer Break down the floor. in the fog The arms stretch out at the same time. There is no shape in sight. However, the body temperature escapes. The direction is shaking. The dryer doesn't stop. Triple blow. The three-pronged shock Ripping through the fog. The torn fog The moment we're about to get back together The water from the niad is flooding in. Fog lost his place to stay Scatter to the surface. among the coral reefs A huge crustacean raises itself. Every time it breaks Coral debris splashes like an explosion. There is no room to escape. The dryer changes direction. a series of shots. It doesn't stop. Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot again. Even before the debris flew in The next bullet is stuck. from the front The stream of water weaves like threads. as if the space were folded The travel route is twisted. Naird, raise your hand Cut off the water thread. "Now!" Dried rushes into the gap. The crossbow blasts like a fire. a series of shots. unrelenting pressure. The mud is ringing. Something pops out of the ground. He's aiming for his legs. But already The dryer goes over it. Don't tread the ground. Let's blow the air. In the front The wreckage is moving The fog is about to gather again Tentacles like seaweed wriggle on the water. Dryers don't hold their breath. "Don't block me." "Piercing." one after another. spread. Connection. It's moving forward while shooting. This is not a battle. It's a breakthrough. And in front of that A door made of water and stone It's getting closer. The waves haven't come yet. But the ocean is already I'm waiting over the door.