On a small boat behind them, a thin man in a long robe hurled curses at the black boat ahead, swearing at both the old otter and the man rowing.
Many people had entered cultivation and learned spells, but not all of them cared about virtue.
They had managed some restraint at the start of the melee, but once their bodies were exhausted and their bellies empty, what little patience remained was utterly spent. Filthy words poured out without a shred of inhibition.
After struggling all night, they were already utterly exhausted, but now their quarry was almost within reach.
The boat jolted violently beneath their feet!
It felt as though something enormous underwater had slammed into the bottom. With a muffled crack, the planks split, and river water gushed in as the boat rapidly tilted and sank.
They dimly glimpsed a dark shape swimming beneath the boat...
"There's a demon underwater!"
The shout had barely faded before another small boat was attacked. It was knocked upward, then crashed heavily back onto the water, throwing several screaming passengers into the river.
This stretch of the River was remote to begin with, with no large vessels passing through. Most boats on its waters were small wooden boats belonging to the villagers along its banks.
Their planks, soaked year after year, were already brittle. How could they withstand such a vicious impact?
The spring river water still carried a chill. Those who fell in desperately swam toward shore, while others took out paper boats and blew on them to enlarge them, barely managing to paddle shakily to the bank.
Some could not bear to abandon their weapons and magical artifacts when they fell in, and sank deeper than the others.
Sinking that little farther let them glimpse the enormous dark shape swimming