The Iron Justice, flagship of the second Revenge Fleet, had already been destroyed by the demons.
And so, inside a makeshift command post hastily built from several sections of burning wreckage and sandbags on the southeastern side of the beachhead, Shanghai Pirate King sat wolfing down a freshly opened can of meat.
Shanghai Pirate King had been fighting all day, and he was starving.
A few minutes earlier, he had led his surviving subordinates, including the wounded demonized players, in repelling a small group of Berserker Demons that had infiltrated their flank.
Beside him, Eliunor knelt on one knee, his hands glowing with faint, moon-white light as he gave emergency treatment to a player warrior whose abdomen had been slashed open.
Just then, the sound of flintlock volleys, far more synchronized than any they had heard before, reached them from the main beachhead, along with the distinctive shrieks of those effective antiaircraft fireworks.
Shanghai Pirate King jerked his head up and looked toward the sound. Eliunor also stopped his healing spell, raising his eyes in surprise.
The two hurried outside, just in time to see the newly landed troops in their distinctive blue-gray armor, along with the blue figure leading the charge, crashing into the demonic tide like a god of war.
"Which outfit are those guys from?"
Shanghai Pirate King narrowed his eyes at the small but tightly formed unit, surprise spreading across his face.
"They're taking on whole packs of demons without even transforming!"
He watched the Extreme Warriors pick off demons with firearms far more powerful than ordinary flintlocks, saw their grenades effectively check the demons' massed charges, and witnessed their seamless melee coordination in groups of three. They were vastly more efficient than the demon players under his command, who fought bravely but individually, with little