More than a dozen men dressed as Ravenholdt assassins carried supplies across the shallows, then used the gangplank connecting to the ship's side to swiftly haul them aboard.
Seeing Deren on the ship, Ragnaros proudly leaped onto the deck, his black leather boots thudding against the planks.
"How about that? I arranged for a secret supply point to be set up here long ago." He spread his arms as if showing off his own cleverness.
"We can't leave any traces on the Eastern Kingdoms, Kalimdor, or at the ports. I'm afraid my big sister will catch up again."
"Heh heh!" Deren could only be speechless. Your big sister is probably watching this place from not far behind you.
And you can't even see her. Maybe you know nothing about Jaina's arcane prowess.
But he naturally would not say that aloud. Still, the fact that Ragnaros had thought to establish a supply point in Northrend, near the Dragon Isles, showed that his thinking was indeed quite inventive.
The chuuni black dragon continued with rare seriousness. "The voyage ahead is filled with the unknown. We must be fully prepared. The ship also needs a thorough inspection. There may be magical turbulence in the waters ahead; an ordinary vessel could be torn to pieces."
Deren glanced at the silent assassins at work, then looked at the triumphant Black Dragon Prince. Considering that he would have to sail such a ship through magical waters, he ultimately could not hold back any longer. "Your Highness, your men are highly skilled, but they're all purely physical combatants, aren't they? To cross magical waters with only you providing magical protection... isn't that too risky?"
"There's no need to worry." Ragnaros confidently patted his chest. "The old man—my father—left me a secret technique for a safe passage. As