Under the night sky, a red moon ascended.
A gentle sea breeze blew past, carrying away the thick stench of blood from the Storm Hunter.
This three-masted sailing ship had just endured a fierce battle, and the signs were everywhere: a shattered deck, a figurehead with only half a head remaining, and blood-stained pieces of wood scattered about...
The deck, now cleansed by Soul-Devouring Magic, was devoid of the cruel and rampant pirates from before. Only Wei'en sat alone on the half-headed figurehead, toying with a lantern in his hand and listening with great interest to the sounds of Ronan and the others rummaging through the ship's hold.
"Second Officer, you have to see this! We found more than forty women down here, and every single one is a beauty!"
"Gods, those bastards on the Storm Hunter really knew how to live—"
