A lone boat sailed towards the Solusian fleet with oarsmen rowing side to side. Blanketed in silhouette, a tall yet slender man stood on its bow. His deep red cloak fluttered restlessly blown by the wind, yet his figure remained unmoved. As the clouds allowed the light of day to illuminate his visage, a smooth white mask kept the man's face hidden except for his mouth, glaring blindingly as it reflected the sunshine.
Like a magnet, the boat attracted the unwanted gazes of the Solusian sailors as it sailed amidst their fleet. Unperturbed by the pressure, the man calmly smiled at his enemies, exuding an eerie mystique.
"HALT! Who goes there!" Julius yelled at the man.
"It is I, Crimson, Commander of the Blacksand Fleet. I command you turn your ships around to prevent your incursion in our waters. Beyond this line is Blacksand territory." Crimson projected his voice towards Julius.
