The sky was getting darker, and a bonfire was lit in the tribe of the red-skinned natives. A group of natives sang and danced around the bonfire.
The natives were in high spirits, but the man without an umbrella was melancholic.
"To end this way, it's truly disheartening."
Although the man without an umbrella faced the fate of being slaughtered, he was not afraid, as he had seen scenes ten times more terrifying than this.
"Wulala~."
A native shouted, his cheeks reddened by the fire.
Woo~
The swift sound of wind breaking came, and half of that native's head suddenly flew off, his skull shattered, causing him to stagger.
Suddenly attacked, this native was a bit bewildered, reaching out to touch the red and white liquid on his face.
His one-eyed gaze saw the blood on his hand, and the shot red-skinned native staggered a few more steps before collapsing.
