The blood and flesh of the Clan mixed with gunpowder splattered everywhere, dripping continually on the deck like raindrops.
In midair, Charles slowly descended, watching the empty sky with his crew.
Just when everyone thought it was all over, the blood that fell from the sky congealed on the ground into a nested set of concentric circles, inside which was an inverted pentagram.
A deep, awkward spell sound came from all around, instantly making the atmosphere extremely eerie.
"Damn it! What went wrong now!" Charles gritted his teeth and rushed to the side of the ship, looking out to sea.
The Deep, who had been inactive until now, formed a large circle around the Unicorne.
With cold, dead fish eyes, they stared fixedly at Charles, looking at him as if he were a dead man.
Indifferently, they drew weapons and stabbed at their own chests, the dark seawater quickly turning green with their blood.
