'Weren't these Fishmen—who had delivered themselves right to his doorstep in considerable numbers and full of hostility—the perfect opportunity to fulfill that requirement and test Black Wind's current combat capabilities?'
At this thought, a sharp glint flashed in Roland's eyes.
He slowly drew the Short Spike from his waist. Its blade faintly glowed with a ghostly purple light, and a cold sensation spread from his palm, accompanied by a hum of eager anticipation.
However, Holland, who was standing to the side, saw Roland's posture and grew anxious.
He strode over to Roland in two quick steps, his rough, large hand nearly grabbing Roland's shoulder. His face screamed, 'Are you crazy?' as he said in a coarse, urgent voice,
"Boss! Look down there! That's not just ten or twenty scraggly runts! Look at them! There have to be dozens, at least, and more are still pouring out!"
