"The sect master has already left." As soon as Nangong Wanwan boarded, she walked up to Zhao Feng and handed him a small paper scroll from her Mustard Seed Pouch. "He took some of the Core Elders with him. The Demon Sect experts on the island have decreased by almost half. The Young Master is in command now."
Zhao Feng unrolled the scroll and looked it over. Its simple lines marked the stronghold's location, the surrounding reefs, and several shallows suitable for landing. He handed it to Su Qingwan, who returned it to Nangong Wanwan after reading it.
"The sentries change in four days." Nangong Wanwan put the scroll back in her leather pouch and headed toward the cabin. "Confirm the route before then."
With that, everyone settled down to regulate their breathing, and no one spoke again.
The isolated island appeared on the morning of the third day.
Seen from a distance, the island was ringed by coral reefs. Beneath the water, the reefs formed dark patches of varying shades, with fine white surf repeatedly churning between the rocks along their edges. Low shrubs and palms covered the island, their crowns joining into a dark green canopy that almost completely obscured the ground from above. Just south of the island's center stood a jutting rock terrace, upon which several gray-white stone buildings had been built. They were small but had thick walls, with high windows fitted with iron bars.
A low wall of piled rubble surrounded the buildings. It reached only waist height, but the main entrances had all been reinforced and showed signs of repeated maintenance.
Since Su Qingwan had already set up a concealed Magic Formation aboard the boat, the Demon Sect's scouts did not discover them when they reached the island's outskirts.
After nightfall, Zhao Feng