Standing still, surrounded by Fishmen corpses at his feet.
The face of this middle-aged man rarely carried a trace of bewilderment.
Whether with other adventurers, pirates, or the various demons of the Southern Islands, he had experienced many simple battles.
But like this time, where both the start and the end were so swift and baffling, it was the first he encountered.
Clearly, before entering the cave, plans for the battle had been made. Yet when the Fishman Priest, a spellcaster, had his head chopped off by the black-haired adventurer in the team, everything fell into chaos.
Now, Nick still didn't have much of a sense of reality.
Even though he contributed during the battle, killing many Fishmen, he felt no sense of achievement or satisfaction in victory.
The whole process seemed too simple, leaving him feeling somewhat hollow.
"Tsk."
A pale hand gripped an arrow shaft, pulling it from the corpse.
Half-Elf Laida walked by, patting her captain's shoulder.
