Kahn's corpse fell with a dull thud.
His once tall, powerful body crashed to the ground as though every bone had been sucked out of it in an instant.
A scalding jet of blood from his severed neck struck the edge of the round table, then splashed back onto the stone floor, rapidly spreading into a scarlet carpet.
The intense reek of blood instantly overwhelmed the cloying, fishy sweetness of the sea-beast oil lamps.
The hall was deathly silent.
That head, supposedly strong enough to smash a mast, had been crushed with horrifying ease.
He had not even managed half a complete scream.
Kahn's eyes were still open, bulging eyeballs dangling outside their sockets, his pupils already dilated, frozen in his final bewilderment and terror.
The three survivors moved almost instinctively.
Rosa, Sanders, and Moro-the three pirate chiefs who usually wanted nothing more than to sink one another into the sea-displayed astonishing coordination at that moment.
Within moments, they formed a stiff triangle, back to back, entrusting their most vulnerable sides to one another.
Dark red, deep green, ghastly white.
Three different colors of Battle Aura and Psychic Energy erupted in the cramped council hall.
The power of high-level transcendents collided wildly, compressing the air until it warped.
The heavy stone table even gave a piercing scrape as it shook, and patches of mold flaked off the walls like gray snow.
They were forcing themselves to stay sane through sheer power.
Before the fight even began, Moro broke. As a medium, his perception was far sharper than a knight's, and precisely because of that, he saw far more of the truth than anyone else.
"Get out!!" He clutched his head with both hands, digging his nails deep into his scalp and leaving bloody furrows. **"Get out of my head!! You