A Feast of Ruin

"Damn it! What's going on?!" Harald jerked upright, the remnants of his drunken haze instantly scattered by terror.

He shoved the woman beside him away, grabbed the massive battle axe by the bed, and staggered out of the bedroom.

The hall, once filled with raucous celebration, was now in complete chaos!

Flames soared from several distant cave entrances, accompanied by the incessant clash of weapons, screams, and more explosions!

The air was thick with the pungent stench of gunpowder and an even more piercing smell of blood.

"Enemy attack!"

"Someone's attacking the camp!"

"Help!!"

"Get the fuck up, all of you!" Harald roared. "Organize a defense!"

But no one could hear his orders. There was fire, smoke, and chaos everywhere.

The pirates ran about like headless flies. Some tried to rush for the armory, only to be blasted away by suddenly exploding traps; others tried to flee toward the dock, only to be cut down by figures emerging from the darkness.

"Who is it?! Which bastard dares touch my territory?!" Harald bellowed furiously, his single bloodshot eye turning crimson. "Is it those Black Sails scum? Or people from the Abyssal Throat?! Could that old bastard Sotowa have dared to stab me in the back?!" In an instant, he named several possible enemies, including even his nominal "allies."

"Boss! Boss! We can't hold them!" A pirate came scrambling toward him. "There are too many of them! Their firepower is too strong!"

The skinny pirate was covered in blood and still clutched a longsword in his hand. It was the weapon Harald had ordered Green to prepare as spoils for Sotowa.

"Rek?" Harald recognized him and grabbed him by the collar. "What the hell is happening outside?! Who did this?! Where's Green?!"

"Brother Green—he was covering us when that paladin—he got killed