After thinking about it for several seconds in overdrive, it strikes me that meeting now with Yellow and Orange will end badly.

If we assume that those two did poison everyone, will the other knights—Red and White—side with us? Are they still alive even? The shapeshifter may show itself at the last moment after when we have battered ourselves in slaughtering each other.

Right now, the priority will be to regroup and collect as many men as we can.

"Let's search for Captain Greene first. We don't know if there are other survivors out there who need our help. If possible, I would like to have more than two people to confront Yellow and Orange."

Pink tilts her head in confusion. Almost immediately, she claps in realization. "Oh! You mean the knight with the yellow feather on his helmet and the maid with orange hair."

"Yes," I confirm. "If I remember correctly, that person introduced himself as Baron Baffoon, and the maid is- did you know her name?"

"Why does it matter?" Glassy eyes devoid of emotion answer me back. "They will not live long enough to see the sun anyway."

Pink grips the pinkish hilt of her sword so hard that I finally realize how infuriating the situation is for her. She is a victim who survived an atrocity. All I know is that I'm lucky enough to be late for dinner and that the stress from saving Pink temporarily distracted me from the sheer amount of friends and compatriots who has died tonight. In a single night.

We let our guards down. We are so focused on a single enemy that we have never imagined that the people from our side are the ones to cause the most damage. They are the real monsters.

The invisible emotions radiating from Pink's calm exterior transfer to me, and my blood just started boiling.

With a nod to my companion, we exit the cabin in search of the captain.

We carefully thread the ship, checking rooms and halls for survivors and adversaries alike. 

None of those appear aside from the increasing amount of dead crew members of the ship.

On the way, we have found all of my men. Seeing them sitting or lying with open eyes and piles of items scattered in front of them tells me that they, like Pink, have attempted to search for a remedy. Unfortunately, they do not have anything useful in them. The poor souls never even managed to call for help.

The waves of the sea rocking the ship and the biting chilly wind are the only things reminding us that we are not dreaming. All of this is real.

The tragic sights on our path are disheartening, but at the same time, keep our spirits aflame in revenge.

As silent as our footsteps are against the old wooden floor, the opposite is true with my mind. It is running wild with the things that I will do to that backstabbing duo.

I sneak a glance at Pink, and I can tell she is devotedly contemplating the same.