For the players in Casarina Town, clearing out the trash before leaving was an easy job.
Even Governor Almeida, hiding deep inside the Governor's Residence with over thirty fully armored elite soldiers armed with flintlocks and small cannons, posed no difficulty for them.
All they had to do was launch a surprise attack after dark, seize the front and rear entrances, haul over things to barricade the doors, and finally set the place ablaze.
Flames greedily licked the night sky, and Casarina's Governor's Residence crackled in agony amid the towering blaze.
Governor Almeida's hysterical roars soon rang out from within, along with the chaotic sounds of soldiers trying to batter down the barricaded doors. But as the fire grew and time passed, the noises inside the walled compound grew fainter, until they vanished altogether.
Beyond the blaze, several figures stood quietly in the shadows cast by its flickering light.
"That should do it. The trash inside should be thoroughly burned by now..."
"Wait a little longer. Once the fire dies down a bit, I'll take some people in wearing the Death Corps Set to check. There must be secret passages in there. If we leave now, that fat pig might survive."
"Don't bother with them. On this island, the fishmen will solve that problem for us."
One of them spoke dismissively.
"As long as we move fast enough and don't let that fat pig catch up, he's dead if he stays on the island."
"All right, that's settled. We should gather everyone and break through to the docks..."
They turned and headed toward Casarina's town square.
There, a dense crowd had gathered in unease... the surviving soldiers of the Makon Alliance, and an even greater number of gaunt, sallow civilians with terror in their eyes.
They were the living people