Five years passed in the blink of an eye. The setting sun blazed like fire, staining the heavens a somber rouge red.
A supreme-grade magical artifact flying boat cut through the waves;
Its hull, over thirty zhang long, raced across the gray-blue sea like a black loach, leaving a long wake behind it.
Wang Shisan, a rogue cultivator from Black Sand Island, was curled up in a corner of the stern.
The standard-issue dharma artifact armor the Eight Serpent Sect had given him looked gleaming and splendid, but was thoroughly uncomfortable to wear.
The edges of its plates were rough with wear and carried an indescribable bloody stench, as though from bloodstains left by its previous wearer.
Fuck your mother, Eight Serpent Sect! Even the size-adjustment runes on this mid-grade standard-issue armor are carved so crudely! Wang Shisan cursed inwardly.
A mid-first order Blue-Scaled Snake lay coiled at his feet, pretending to sleep. Its forked tongue flicked out now and then, its icy gaze seeming to regard Wang Shisan as a piece of meat about to die.
"Fuck the Eight Serpent Sect!"
Liu Laosi, another rogue cultivator from Black Sand Island, squatted beside Wang Shisan. His plump face flushed crimson, and he suddenly spat a thick glob of phlegm hard onto the deck.
His armor fit even worse. The flab on his belly pushed its plates outward, making him look both ridiculous and uncomfortable.
Wang Shisan sighed deeply, his voice filled with helplessness and resentment. "Ah, I told you there was no such thing as a free lunch!
"Free rent? A salary? In the end, aren't they just using us as cannon fodder?"
Liu Laosi's Adam's apple bobbed. He did not dare answer.
After all, he had been the one to drag Wang Shisan into these muddy waters.
Still, Wang