[Weirdly as the log hits the lights, Harlock's eye went completely black as he tries to deflect the scythe-blades, putting up a decent fight despite being clearly outnumbered but the injuries kept piling up, instead of the scarlet blood like the one bleeding from his gash, he is dripping black, oily substance]

Just. Let. Me.

[He snarls with each parry and strike, before being forced back, completely drenched with the dark ichor]

Die alone on this ship!