The terrible news arrived at dusk.
The sun was sinking below the sea, setting the entire sky ablaze with an ominous, molten-iron red. That red was too deep, too heavy, weighing on everyone's hearts like some kind of omen.
Clang, clang, clang-
The alarm bell on the Lookout Tower tore through the evening peace of Naisitad City, spreading in every direction on the sea breeze.
The pirates near the harbor were the first to react.
They raised their heads and looked toward the distant horizon-countless black dots were emerging there.
One ship... three... ten... twenty... more and more.
Those black dots formed orderly ranks, like an approaching line of death, completely occupying half the horizon.
"Warships..." someone murmured, his voice trembling. "They're all warships..."
"How can there be so many..."
"I can't count them... there's no way..."
Panic spread through the harbor like a plague.
On the docks, workers unloading cargo dropped the crates in their hands, turned, and ran.
The pirates chatting beside the piers felt their legs give way. They had to cling to nearby posts to keep from falling.
On the distant streets, women screamed, children began to cry, and old people knelt on the ground, muttering words no one could make out.
More alarm bells rang from the city's lookout towers, their overlapping peals merging into something like a despairing wail.
People in the streets began running deeper into the city.
Carts overturned, spilling goods across the ground to be trampled underfoot. People were knocked down and, before they could rise, stepped on by the crowds surging behind them.
Screams, sobs, and curses blended together. The entire city was like a pot of boiling water, thrown into utter chaos.
But those who had truly weathered storms stood on high ground, watching the approaching fleet, each face