Origin Continent, Ink Flood Dragon Swamp.
The team of eleven cultivators was jubilant after successfully capturing their target alive.
They took out a warship and boarded it.
On the Origin Continent, the vast majority of True Gods could not fly on their own, and that, of course, included them.
Thus, they all needed some form of transportation.
Even Void True Gods who could fly on their own, or even Eternal True Gods, would not mind having a vehicle carry them around.
"This haul was enough. Sometimes, you have to take a few risks." The burly, ox-horned man laughed loudly.
Their operation had gone very smoothly.
In fact, their hunting team, led by a Void True God and composed mainly of True Gods, did not actually hunt Void True God Level Exotic Beasts very often.
Every such operation required preparations covering all kinds of intelligence: the environment, the strength they had probed out, whether other Exotic Beasts would provide support, and so on.
And if the Exotic Beast sensed danger, they would have to abandon the target.
This was also their captain's strategy of acting cautiously.
Quite a long time had passed. Of the fourteen True Gods from their tribe who had originally followed their captain, a Void True God, only two had fallen so far. That, too, was thanks to this strategy.
But the price of caution was meager returns.
Now that the vice-captain had also broken through to become a Void True God and believed their strength was sufficient, he had decided to gradually reform the team's operational strategy.
Though caution was necessary, there was no need to take it so far.
Listening to the vice-captain's laughter and the reactions of the eleven True God team members, the somewhat lean captain frowned. "I'm a little worried," the captain said.