Midnight.
Thick night shrouded the world. The stars in the sky were dim, and only a crescent moon hung slantwise at the horizon, casting a faint, far-from-brilliant silver glow.
At this hour, even the seabirds had returned to their nests. Without their clamorous, piercing cries over the sea, it was far quieter than during the day.
Only the rolling crash of waves continued to echo without end.
A faint demonic aura spread across the sea, dark and murky, obscuring the view. Yet one could still make out one pitch-black back after another, endlessly prowling across the surface.
They were a pod of Dragon Whales.
Beneath the night sky, more than a dozen enormous Dragon Whales cruised through the waters, vaguely forming a circle.
And at the very center of that circle lay a small island.
The island was made entirely of reef rock and was exceptionally tiny. Strictly speaking, it could only be considered a gigantic reef protruding from the sea; calling it an island was already giving it too much credit.
Scattered campfires dotted the reef. Dense clusters of people were packed shoulder to shoulder, foot to foot, numbly gnawing on the food in their hands.
Within the crowd, Sun Yaowu hugged his knees and stared up at the night sky, his face utterly listless.
That was right. The densely packed people on this island had originally been the crew and Clan Soldiers aboard the Kunwu Ironclad and the Three-Eyed Treasure Ship.
After Long Wuji's crew had learned to skillfully operate the captured Kunwu Ironclad and Three-Eyed Treasure Ship, the prisoners had been stripped of all their equipment and thrown onto this little island, where the Dragon Whale pod kept them under concentrated guard.
Other than a limited supply of food, Long Wuji had left them nothing.
Without their