The blood-red mist, illuminated by the Lighting Stone atop the mast, floated in the air. Droplets of blood sprinkled like raindrops all over the ground.
Along with bits of flesh, bone fragments, and skin, flying like bullets, they stuck firmly to the deck.
Instantly, a sickeningly sweet, bloody scent flooded Alka's nostrils, continuously assaulting his sense of smell.
Such a visceral, bloody scene made Alka freeze on the spot, his face spattered with gore.
He wasn't someone unaccustomed to such sights; after transmigrating to this world and understanding its brutal nature, he had mentally prepared himself.
During their sea voyage, he had fought in numerous battles, and even against fellow humans, he could deliver lethal blows without hesitation. He knew this was a violent and cruel world.
