The next day, at the third quarter of the Hour of the Rabbit, the Dragon Clan docks lay shrouded in morning mist.
Three hundred Golden Scale warships stood arrayed like steel behemoths. The ferocious dragon heads carved upon their prows spat out water vapor, while the cultivators on deck wore uniformly issued black-iron armor, Miasma-Guard Talismans specially made by the Dragon Clan hanging from their waists and glinting with cold light in the dawn.
Qin He mingled among the crowd, watching the Dragon Clan disciples direct the fleet in an orderly fashion.
High-level cultivators stood at the bows, pale golden spiritual power gathering in their palms as they laid down layer upon layer of defensive barriers around the warships.
Lower-level disciples hauled supplies across the decks. Every crate of Pills and talismans bore the Dragon Clan's exclusive mark, and even the routes for carrying them had been calculated down to half a step.
"The Dragon Clan truly has deep foundations."
Zhou Shan lowered his voice, a trace of envy flashing through his eyes. "These three hundred warships alone—each one is equipped with a complete defensive formation. Those heretical cultivators of the outer sea would likely not even dare to come near."
Qin He nodded, his gaze sweeping over the fleet.
He noticed seven elderly men standing aboard the flagship at the very front of the fleet. Their auras were restrained, yet a faint pressure lingered around them. They were, astonishingly, seven Other Shore Realm experts.
Farther away, dozens of Divine Bridge Realm cultivators patrolled the skies, forming an airtight protective net.
"The great Aristocratic Clans of the Upper Realm truly are beyond anything the Abyss can compare with." Qin He secretly marveled, though a thread of pressure rose in his heart.
A Lineage from a single region possessed so much