That was a true meat grinder.
"A hundred ships... nearly a hundred ships..."
Miller's teeth were chattering, making a rattling sound.
He saw a two-masted ship crawling with Fishmen attempting to flank, only to be blasted in half by a broadside cannon and subsequently rammed and sunk by an approaching steel battleship.
Floating debris and limbs were everywhere on the sea, while those twelve black smoke columns remained straight and indifferent.
They didn't even pause for the slaughter.
They merely passed by, crushing anything in their way, then kept moving forward.
An unprecedented chill shot up from his tailbone to his skull, leaving Miller slumped against the broken mast.
Earlier, he thought those flesh-eating Fishmen were monsters.
But now he understood that compared to those beasts who only knew how to tear at flesh, these cold machines that ground everything into powder... were even more terrifying.
Before Miller could finish inhaling, that desolate horn blared.
