"How much longer until we sail out of the fog?" someone asked Zheng Chuanwen anxiously.
Although not many people had died on the ship so far, the process had been too horrifying. No one wanted to become the next victim. Only by leaving this fog could they escape this perilous situation.
"We're already sailing at full speed, but the fog is too vast. It will take at least another three hours to leave it," Zheng Chuanwen said in a low voice.
"Three hours? With that much time, how many people will die here!" someone nearby roared quietly upon hearing this.
"Don't cultivate, don't fall asleep. Keep watch over one another, and perhaps we can avoid it," Zheng Chuanwen said with a frown.
No one around him pressed Zheng Chuanwen further, because there was little point in doing so. The ship could only sail so fast; the remaining time needed to leave the fog was simply that long.
If they encountered another sea demon attack along the way, the time would stretch even further.
Though the people around them were terrified, they had not yet lost their minds. Thus, they could still suppress the anger born of fear in their hearts.
But that suppression was fragile. If several more people died before their very eyes, chaos would erupt in an instant.
Chen Fei stood in a corner of the deck, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings and taking in everyone's expressions.
This was the myriad faces of life, especially when danger struck—the instinctive reactions of all people. Helplessness, terror, the desperate urge to flee danger, yet no strength to do so.
Even Aperture Refining Realm cultivators seemed no different from ordinary people. Their wills might be much firmer, but sometimes willpower could not change certain facts.
At the end of the