The slender figure beneath the sea swayed slowly through the water, each movement stirring up an enormous undercurrent.
Sweat began to seep into Zhao Heng's palm.
The eel raised his head.
A pair of dark brown, slit-pupiled eyes slowly emerged from beneath the surface and settled on the warship.
The instant that gaze fixed on him, every muscle in Zhao Heng's body tensed, and the tip of his Azure Steel Sword rose slightly.
He could feel the soul power of the three Soul Douluos behind him gathering to its utmost at the same moment. Zhou Qin had already tucked both hands into his sleeves, Wu Yan had drawn her short sword half an inch from its sheath, and Zheng Ning'an's burly frame sank slightly, like an iron tower compressed under a heavy weight.
The dozens of ordinary soul masters on deck also revealed their soul rings, multicolored lights flickering across the dark silver deck.
The eel slowly raised his head from beneath the surface.
Dark golden scales spread through the water in overlapping layers, each as large as a millstone, their edges gleaming like metal tempered over and over again.
Those dark brown, slit-pupiled eyes slowly rose above the water, reflecting the tiny, tense figures aboard the warship. His gaze held the same indifference with which a human regarded ants.
Then his lips moved.
"Human."
The voice was deep and hoarse, spreading outward in waves from beneath the surface, like muffled thunder compressed for countless years rolling underwater. It made the ears of the soul masters on deck ring.
"What brought you to the deep sea?"
Zhao Heng's pupils contracted sharply. He could not speak.
He could not speak because he had never expected this hundred-thousand-year soul beast to open his mouth and talk.
A soul beast speaking human language