Death Was His Deserved Fate (Please Subscribe~)

Quinte snapped his fingers toward the second mate. Pale yellow flames carrying the stench of sulfur immediately flared from the Phantoms clutching Achilles. The Wraiths let out ethereal shrieks and released Achilles one after another.

Seizing the chance, the second mate rolled into the captain's cabin. Quinte kicked the door shut, and Achilles, having scrambled to his feet, hurriedly shoved a nearby table over to block the Zombies for the moment.

Finally given a chance to catch his breath, the second mate panted heavily. "Captain, are you saying these Zombies and Wraiths were caused by the people I brought aboard?"

Quinte strode back into the captain's cabin, opened a cabinet, and took out a skull, a bottle of blood, a grayish-white box, and several other items for arranging a ritual.

"Isn't that obvious?"

Quinte opened the blood bottle, dipped his finger into it, and began drawing a ritual pattern directly onto the wooden floor of the captain's cabin.

"Forget that for now. Hold back whatever's outside. And don't take deep breaths; I suspect there's poisonous gas in this room."

Achilles nearly cried out.

Captain, why didn't you say so earlier?!

He hurriedly covered his mouth, untied his headscarf, and wrapped it over his face to cover his nose and mouth.

The door kept banging violently. The Zombies were incredibly strong, and they had already forced open a crack in the door. Achilles hurriedly threw himself against it, bracing the wooden table as he wrestled the Zombies with all his strength.

But while the door could stop the Zombies, it could not stop the Phantoms. The transparent shadows summoned by the Cane of Resentment emerged from the doorway, the walls, and the floor.

Having received some kind of command, they let out ethereal shrieks and flew toward Quinte.

Quinte rapidly drew