Jack closed his eyes and waited for death.
Werther stood where he was and rested for a while. Once he had recovered a little strength, he walked over to Jack.
"Jack the Drought, you're not too bright, and you're kind of an idiot, but you've got guts. You're a lot better than the people who beg for mercy before they die.
"And I told you: if you were still alive when that state wore off, I'd spare you."
With that, Werther pulled Intent Blood from Jack's chest. He flicked both swords, flinging the black blood from the blades in a dark red semicircle across the ground before him.
Jack offered no thanks for being spared. Nor did he say anything like "Go on, kill me if you dare."
Werther had beaten him fair and square, cutting him down one slash at a time. Jack accepted his defeat.
"What was the move... that beat me?"
Jack forced out those words, then passed out.
Werther turned to look at Jack and found himself feeling a little respect for the reckless idiot.
Even after losing, Jack hadn't made threats. He just wanted to know what move had beaten him.
But Werther hadn't named it yet, so he stood there and thought for a moment.
"Crimson Regalia. I call it Crimson Regalia."
Werther didn't check whether Jack had heard him. He simply headed for the edge of the island.
At the sight of him approaching, Jack's men felt their legs go weak.
"Wh-what do we do?"
"Lord Sheepshead, stop him! He's coming this way! He's going to kill us all!"
"Yes! Kill him, Lord Sheepshead!"
The speakers were the same three men who had taunted Werther earlier. They had felt the chill in his gaze and wanted Sheepshead to test whether he was bluffing.