Inspecting the Outposts, Moves on the New Continent

On an endless expanse of sea stood one particularly conspicuous little island.

It squatted there all alone, like a gray pebble carelessly tossed into the sea when viewed from above. The surrounding waters swirled around it, with no other island or reef within a hundred li.

The island itself was small, only two or three hundred paces from north to south and even narrower from east to west. There were no trees or shrubs, only gray-brown rocks and a thin layer of moss.

A tall tower stood at its center. Its gray-white surface was densely carved with Divine Art Runes stretching from the base to the top. Golden light continually seeped from their grooves, forming a halo over the tower's surface.

Below the tower lay a leveled clearing with two low stone buildings, one a barracks and the other a storeroom.

Two Divine Arts Cultivators in light gray ascetic robes sat cross-legged on either side of the tower's base, their hands forming seals. A golden glow flowed around them, pulsing in time with the light of the runes on the tower.

A flagpole stood at the barracks entrance. The Allied Army flag at its tip was stretched taut by the sea breeze, its emblem clearly visible in the sunlight.

Besides the two Divine Arts Ascetics, a squad of militia was stationed there. Their duty was to monitor any unusual activity within a hundred li of the surrounding sea. Upon detecting any suspicious spiritual fluctuations or ship signals, they would report back to headquarters on Fengle Island through the Encrypted Communication Formation embedded in the tower.

They had no other duties. It seemed an easy assignment, but if the watchtower ever detected a serious problem, its internal terminal would automatically transmit the data—and their lives would reach their end.

For precisely