Murphy didn't retaliate but instead gripped his sword-staff and put on a composed front. After all, he had come as an envoy. He immediately adopted the arrogance of the Old Blood race's Night Flag lineage and coldly reprimanded:
"The Blood Fear Clan has been exiled for 200 years—have all ancient traditions been forgotten? Two esteemed members of the Blood race have arrived carrying the goodwill of salvation, yet why hasn't he come out to greet us? Do pirates think they're fools? Honestly… you've thrown away every ounce of dignity the Blood race has ever had!"
"Peh!"
The deranged old sea dog licking his blade shot Murphy a hostile glare and spat crudely near his feet before sneering:
"Figures. Landlubbers only know how to talk big—bullshit traditions! While I wasn't born a vampire, even I remember your people didn't seem this 'graceful' when you exiled us back then. Now you come here lecturing us on traditions?
You filthy bastards, who the hell would ever want to—"
