A gunshot shattered the night. White smoke drifted from the muzzle of the Wheellock Pistol, only to be swept away by the sea breeze.
Seeing the figure tumble from the gangplank onto the Pickle Barrel's deck a short distance ahead, Renato holstered his still-smoking Wheellock Pistol as he ran, tightened his grip on the Silent Lady, and raised an eyebrow.
His luck seemed to be good this time. The Wheellock Pistol often lost accuracy beyond fifteen meters, yet this shot had struck the mage squarely in the head.
Even Renato was surprised by such accuracy.
During ordinary target practice, landing five shots out of ten on target counted as a good performance, let alone firing one-handed at a moving target while running.
This time, he had barely aimed at all. He had simply fired off a casual shot while sprinting, and somehow hit his mark.
The pistol was empty, and reloading would take time. The Black-Armored Swordsman kept running along the pier without breaking stride.
The Necromancy Mage had moved faster than Renato expected. When the two of them reached the docks by the main road, they saw the mage in the distance, shuffling toward the gangplank with a living dead creature supporting him.
His injuries were much as Renato had estimated. The mage's empty right shoulder swayed with his steps, while his left arm rested across a zombie's shoulders. He seemed unable to walk on his own.
Renato had still been at the dock entrance then, at least thirty-five meters from the end of the pier. If he let the man board, the deck and cabins would become the Necromancy Mage's home ground, with no telling how much trouble awaited him there.
To stop him from boarding, and with the Wheellock Pistol already in his hand, Renato had raised