Just as the Narwhal was about to be swallowed by the papermen, a piercing shriek suddenly echoed from the distant sky, and the papermen aboard the ship abruptly froze.
Charles forced himself to look into the distance. Audric, transformed into a giant bat, was now hovering above the wooden ship. The wax-yellow canvas sails rattled violently under the power of the sonic waves, and the entire vessel began to tremble.
Seeing his crew turn the tide, Charles could hold on no longer. His body slid slowly down toward the deck, scraping against the hull as he fell. The crew immediately noticed something was wrong with their captain and hurried to surround him, their faces tense with worry.
"Captain! Who did this?" the Second Officer asked, his face pale with panic as he stared at the gaping wound on Charles's chest.
"Don't worry about me… Quickly… go take care of those papermen…" Charles's vision dimmed as he spoke in broken whispers.
The Second Officer nodded and led the sailors in a charge against the quivering enemies.
Everything grew darker. Charles could no longer hear the sounds around him. As he gazed at the torches being lit across the deck, a single thought flashed through his mind. Am I dying?
He felt everything becoming brighter, and the pain in his body swiftly faded away. Facing impending death, Charles found himself far calmer than he had imagined. So this is finally it… I wonder if I'll be able to transmigrate back…
The first mate, who had vanished moments ago, pushed through the huddled crowd to reach Charles, dragging two men behind him. One was a new sailor with a gash on his neck; the other was Deep, who had been shot. The sailor's wound was not fatal, and the bullets that struck Deep had missed his vital organs; neither was dead. Charles could see them talking frantically to the first mate, but he couldn't hear a thing.
The first mate, Bandage, laid both men side by side on the deck. After looking deeply into Charles's eyes, he took the Black Blade from the captain's hand. Charles tried to ask what he was doing, but his bloodless lips only trembled, refusing to open.
Gripping the blade, Bandage swiftly carved a three-pointed blood Array onto the deck, filling the gaps between its lines with twisted inscriptions.
SQUISH!
The sharp edge pierced the new sailor's chest. Charles and the surrounding crew stared, their eyes wide with disbelief. Bandage tossed the sailor's corpse into the center of the Array and then raised the blade toward Deep.
THUNK.
A ship's nail suddenly pinned the first mate's knife-wielding hand to the deck.
Seeing the fury in Charles's eyes, Bandage silently lowered the blade. He prostrated himself on the deck and began chanting in a low voice. As he chanted, blood from the sailor's corpse seeped into the Array. A transparent tentacle of seawater rose from over the ship's gunwale, and Bandage's chant swelled louder and louder.
The tip of the tentacle pointed at the sailor in the Array. The corpse, its eyes wide open, was swiftly sucked up through the tentacle and vanished. The now blood-red tentacle then collapsed toward Charles, dissolving into a wave of blood that washed over him. Doused in the sanguine liquid, Charles, who had been on the verge of death only moments before, let out a hysterical, guttural scream.
His body began to steam as it trembled and twisted like a snake. The blade fragment inside him was violently expelled, and the wound began to heal. At that moment, Charles felt as if a thousand knives were stabbing him, the overwhelming pain nearly causing him to pass out. Mere seconds later, Charles, lying in the pool of blood, was completely healed.
Bandage calmly walked over and helped the drenched Charles to his feet. "Captain… the sacrifice was only half-paid… your wounds aren't completely healed."
Panting heavily, Charles gave his first mate a conflicted look. He said nothing, turning his head toward the distant battle instead. The piercing shriek had died away. In midair, a bloody and battered Audric was being swarmed by a pack of black papermen.
Charles rushed to the deck gun and fired directly at the wooden ship. Perhaps because of the range, all of his shots missed. He turned to the crew. "Bandage, take the helm! James, overload the vortex furnace! Everyone else, ready your weapons! We have to catch it!"
Everyone sprang into motion. After a long pause, the Narwhal surged forward once more. The wind tossed Charles's black hair. Behind his mask, his face was as cold as ice, but there was no hiding the hatred blazing in his eyes.
Seeing the Narwhal closing in, the wooden ship tried to flee, but it was at a clear disadvantage in speed. The gap between the two vessels narrowed rapidly. The deck gun, under Charles's control, once again spat fire, sending columns of water erupting around the wooden ship.
CRACK!
The wooden ship's mast shattered, bringing the canvas sails crashing down onto its deck. The ship's speed plummeted.
"Don't slow down! Ram them!" Charles's furious roar echoed across the deck.
The Narwhal shot forward even faster. Before everyone's eyes, its prow stabbed deep into the belly of the wooden ship like a spear. Seeing figures on the other vessel, Charles didn't hesitate. He swung the gun around and unleashed a barrage on the enemy deck. Gunfire thundered as the wooden ship was instantly riddled with holes, and bloody chunks of flesh flew everywhere. A few more shots would have sunk it for sure, but Charles held his fire—he needed to know who had sent this ship.
"Board them!" Charles yelled, leading his crew in a charge across the Narwhal's prow and onto the enemy vessel.
They crossed the shattered deck and entered the ship's interior. Just as they descended the stairs, a flash of cold light slashed at Charles's face. He recoiled, and with a swift motion of the Black Blade, sliced the paperman before him into several pieces. But this was only the beginning. An endless stream of black papermen surged forward, attacking with frenzied abandon.
"These things are being controlled! You hold them off! I'll deal with their master!" Charles shouted.
With that, he charged into the swarm of papermen, his body slipping through the fray like an eel. The papermen became frantic, surging together in a desperate attempt to block his path. Charles was like a lone skiff in a raging storm—perilously close to capsizing, but never quite going under. The more crowded it became, the more his superhuman agility stood out. Packed so tightly, the papermen would often accidentally hack at their own allies in the chaos.
After a few dozen seconds, the space before him suddenly cleared. In the gloomy cabin, a man in a black Captain's Uniform was muttering to himself beside four lit, sky-blue candles. At the sight of Charles's masked face, terror twisted the man's features. He quickly blew out the candles, plunging the room into total darkness before scrambling toward a nearby window.
This pitiful trick was useless against Charles's Dark Vision. He raised his pistol and fired without hesitation.
Blood blossomed on the man's limbs. Before he could react, the point of Charles's Black Blade was already pressed against his throat.