At a single command, every faction sprang into action.
The shipmasters, Demon Kings, and Demon Generals under the Dragon King, Immortal Long, gathered around the Misty Wave Kingdom of the West Sea, advancing along their respective routes toward the islands where mortal people lived.
This region lay along the West Sea's trade routes. Since ancient times, its goods had been plentiful and its people prosperous, with an abundance of local products. Even during the earlier demonic calamity, the West Sea Branch Headquarters had dispatched cultivators to help defend it, taking special care to keep it safe.
Thus, the mortal kingdoms here had suffered little harm, and the shipping lanes had remained open throughout.
At this moment, along one such route, aboard a treasure ship owned by a trading firm under the West Sea's Heavenly Treasure Pavilion, a middle-aged cultivator serving as an escort sat at the very top of the mast, bored out of his mind, drinking with his head tilted back.
Another, younger-looking cultivator was poring over a thread-bound ancient book, hoping to glean some profound technique from it. Failing that, he could at least broaden his knowledge, so that when he traveled the world in the future, his ignorance would not cost him.
Suddenly, the middle-aged cultivator drinking atop the mast stopped. With a puzzled look, he turned toward the sea to the north.
Black clouds like those of a storm had appeared without warning over waters that had been clear and blue beneath a cloudless sky. Vast flocks of seabirds seemed to have been startled, massing into a dark, unbroken swath as they fled this way.
The scene carried the oppressive, ominous air of wind filling a tower before a mountain storm broke.
The middle-aged cultivator narrowed his eyes, straining his vision to peer deep into the