"Two useless fools! You wasted a perfect opportunity. That stupid brat didn't have a single guard, and you still couldn't kill him!"
A shadow flickered and drifted down in front of Sergeant Bainby.
Bainby's breastplate had been blasted to pieces, and his dark chest was smeared with deep crimson blood. The bloody flesh of his shoulder had peeled back, exposing stark white bone.
With most of his body frozen in ice, Bainby stared with bloodshot eyes and said impassively, "It's not over yet, Number Thirteen. We still have one last chance."
The high-rank rogue shed his shadowy disguise. Rubbing his masked chin, he sneered, "You really are a faithful hound. But let me make this clear first: that brat's fleet has already left the heart of the storm. In less than half an hour, they'll be exchanging fire with Skullsplitter's fleet. We don't have much time."
Bainby lifted the chain in his hand slightly and said calmly, "It's enough."
Once the warship steadied, Rowan and Jaina returned to the deck.
After the fierce battle, only a handful of Iron Tide Pirates remained. They huddled together at the far end of the deck, awaiting their final judgment.
Leonard had wanted to take the Iron Tide Pirates alive, but Rowan saw no value in keeping the survivors. Besides, capturing them would expose the soldiers to the risk of injury.
Since the Iron Tide Pirates refused to surrender and die with dignity, Rowan could only surround them and kill them, sending them to the Shadowlands.
"Are there any pirates left belowdecks?" Rowan had nearly lost his head to the pirate captain moments earlier. He was very interested in whether Bainby had been killed in the explosion.
Ordinary explosives might struggle to kill a Class Practitioner, but Rowan had blown up the Cannon