Dragon had pulled the unconscious Sabo back from the brink of death. Carrying the boy he had only met once, air currents surged around him as he rode the wind, returning in an instant to the Revolutionary Army's ship—the Winter Gramma—hidden beneath the shadow of the coastal cliffs.
"You took too long, Dragon! What if we were exposed lingering in a place like this?"
Ivankov, tall and heavily made up in flamboyant makeup, complained indignantly.
Dragon ignored his colleague's grumbling and silently handed the drenched boy in his arms to the medical staff rushing over.
"His injuries are severe! Hurry! Give him emergency treatment!"
After examining him, the medical staff cried out and immediately began trying to save him.
Dragon swept his gaze across the crowd and gave a concise order:
"Board the ship. Set sail."
The Winter Gramma raised its sails and silently departed the coast of the Goa Kingdom like a ghost, leaving that false prosperity and true tragedy behind.
Several hours passed, and night shrouded the sea. The Winter Gramma quietly sailed into the waters near Shimotsuki Village.
Standing at the bow, Dragon looked toward the island in the distance, its outline blurred beneath the moonlight, and spoke:
"Go ashore and replenish our supplies. Move quickly..."
Before he could finish, he abruptly raised his head. Beneath his dark green cloak, his hawk-sharp gaze pierced through the clouds and locked onto a presence ordinary people could not sense.
Without the slightest hesitation, Dragon raised his hand and waved. An invisible yet incomparably sharp blade of wind tore through the air with a shriek, shooting straight into the night sky!
Clang!
The wind blade seemed to strike an invisible but indestructible barrier. A dull metallic crash rang out, and it immediately shattered into chaotic currents of air, blowing