The mountain-like black clouds menacingly pressed down on the sea.
Bright yellow lightning flickered within the black clouds, like a writhing dragon. The thunder was deafening, the waves churned and surged, and even amidst the storm, multiple sections of the ship caught fire, the flames leaping wildly in the rain.
In the dark night, Fujiwara Reya navigated like a dark hurricane howling past.
One shadow after another fell before him, the sounds of battle were particularly clear amidst the wind and rain.
High-wattage floodlights illuminated this area, the desolate wind and rain over the sea, making the light seem especially abrupt and lonely.
Fujiwara Reya stood holding his sword.
A member of the Ghost Clan blocking his way fell slowly.
The corpse's neck was cut open by the sword, a large gash that, under the washing of the rain, quickly diluted the blood. The wound, under the light, looked like a ghastly white maw of flesh, truly a terrifying and disgusting sight.
Of course.