What in the world did just happen?
Ephraim arrived by the scene to see Samuel's bloodied overcoat around the collar.
"What happened?!"
It was Borgh, who came with his crew. He had run towards Ephraim's side, slightly panting.
Borgh? Ephraim scowled. Why did he come here? Ephraim thought that the captain went to check with the crew? Ephraim swallowed the lump of suspicion building over his throat. Borgh had worry etched all over his face; his crew sharing the same sentiments as him.
"Samuel . . ." It wasn't time to raise his suspicions—there wasn't any time, and he felt guilty for even thinking about it. Right now, what—or rather, who Ephraim really needed to prioritize, is Samuel.
In Ephraim's line of vision, he can only see that there is only the vast sea to welcome him and nothing more. On the distance, the sun was setting against the horizon and everything was in a tranquil state, except the ones on Borgh's carrack.
