It was easy to lose your bearings at sea in a storm.
Yet the little boat had set sail quietly and never once slowed along the way, gliding like a ghost through layer upon layer of rain.
Through the constantly battered windows, you could even make out a faint layer of dark clouds surrounding the boat, blending it even more seamlessly with its surroundings and making it harder to spot.
They'd even gone to the trouble of concealing it. Professional!
As a freeloading passenger, Fu Qian was very satisfied.
What pleased him even more, of course, was that these ruthless, tight-lipped poachers clearly had a specific destination in mind: the outer reaches of the Sea of Ashes.
He had good reason to call them tight-lipped. So far, Fu Qian hadn't heard anyone discuss the purpose of their trip.
The Transcendents aboard the ship, apart from a man clearly in charge whom they called Lan En, were either preparing for battle or resting. Lan En, meanwhile, kept checking their course and distance.
Even so, Fu Qian had already figured out that they would reach the outskirts of the Sea of Ashes before long.
Was this what people meant when they said everything worked out for the best?
If not for the terrible weather, he would probably have needed to spend at least a few more hours getting there—and might even have had to swim the last stretch.
Things were going so smoothly that he couldn't help wondering if this storm had been drawn to him by some mutual attraction between their respective traits.
Tap!
As he mused, a faint sound came from behind him, like something creeping across the floor on tiptoe.
But in the darkness, Fu Qian didn't hurry to turn around. Instead, he studied the dim reflection in the