156: Chapter 155 Outsider

Above the endless ocean, a flying boat sped past.

Most of the formation patterns on the hull had dimmed; of the densely packed runes that originally covered the ship, only a few at the bow still flickered weakly, like candle flames that could go out at any moment.

A large chunk of the stern had been torn away, leaving a jagged gap that exposed the broken Dragon bone and charred wooden planks within; seawater seeped through the cracks, pooling thinly in the cabin and sloshing back and forth with the flying boat's swaying, making an irritating sound.

The gunwales were covered in scratches of varying depths; the deepest ones had nearly pierced through the planks, allowing a glimpse of the gray sea outside through the fissures.

There were two people on the boat, both at their wit's end.

The older one had graying hair that was plastered messily to his forehead, stuck together in clumps by sweat and blood.

His robes were full of holes, and his left sleeve was torn from the shoulder, revealing an arm wrapped in cloth strips; the cloth was soaked through with blood, turning a dark, purplish-black, with fresh blood still seeping from the edges.

He knelt halfway at the bow, one hand gripping the helm and the other bracing against the deck, his knuckles white and veins bulging, looking as if he were nailed to the spot.

His complexion was terrifyingly sallow, his eyes sunken, cheekbones protruding, and his lips dry and peeling as if he hadn't drunk water for days. With every breath, his chest made a wheezing sound like a bellows, as if something inside his lungs was broken or leaking.

The younger one leaned against the gunwale, curled into a ball with his hands clutching his knees and his chin resting on them, as if trying to hide himself.

His face looked even worse than his Senior Brother's, white without a trace of color, his lips purple, and dark circles under his eyes.

His robes were also torn, with a long scratch on his chest extending from his shoulder to his waist; although it had scabbed over, any significant movement would cause it to split, seeping fresh blood that stained his lapel red.

His Flying Sword lay across his lap, its blade covered in a web of cracks; most of the handguard at the hilt was shattered, held together only by wrapped cloth strips.

He kept his eyes closed, brow furrowed, and eyelids twitching incessantly; it was unclear if he was asleep or unconscious, but his lips moved constantly, as if muttering something or talking in his sleep.

Their spiritual power was nearly exhausted.

The Spirit Stones in their Storage Pouches had been used up as early as the second day. Their Medicinal Pills were also gone; the last Qi Recovery Pill had been swallowed before dawn yesterday, restoring less than ten percent of their spiritual power—just enough to keep the flying boat from sinking.

If they continued to waste away like this, they would run out of life force before that Beast even made a move.

The speed of the flying boat grew slower and slower, like a seabird with broken wings, wobbling above the sea surface, liable to fall at any moment.

The two were Elders of the Tianshui Sect.

And the Tianshui Sect was the largest Sect in this sea region.

Though called the largest, it was actually just a third-rate minor Sect.

One Golden Core True Person, about a dozen Foundation Establishment Cultivators, and over a hundred Qi Refining Disciples.

In the East Xuan Region, they wouldn't even be fit to carry the shoes of the great Sects.

But in this vast sea region far from the continent, the Tianshui Sect was the heaven and the earth; they were the Immortals worshipped by all the Mortals on dozens of islands, the sole Dominators of this sea.

The Tianshui Sect needed fresh blood.

The Mortal children on those islands were their only source.

Every autumn, the Village Heads of each island would bring children of the appropriate age to the Sect to test their Spiritual Roots.

Those with good Aptitude stayed, while those with poor Aptitude returned.

It had been this way year after year, generation after generation.

Without these children, the Tianshui Sect would decline, perish, and be swallowed by other forces in this sea region until nothing was left.

This was what the Sect Master muttered every year, the Elders followed suit, and the Disciples listened until they remembered—Mortals are important.

Not because their lives were important, but because they could give birth to children with Spiritual Roots.

Those children were the future of the Tianshui Sect.

However, a few days ago, a Disciple suddenly reported that a Beast had appeared in the nearby waters; with a Foundation Establishment Middle Stage cultivation, it had destroyed three islands in just a few days.

The Mortals on those three islands had been eaten clean, with not a single survivor.

The children who should have been sent to the Sect this autumn were also gone.

The Sect Master slammed the table, and the Elders' eyes turned red—if this continued, where would the Tianshui Sect's new Disciples come from? They couldn't rely on the descendants of mediocre fishermen to keep up appearances, could they? Those children didn't even have Spiritual Roots; what would they Cultivate? It would be a waste of food.

So, the two of them were sent out.

Two Foundation Establishment Late Stage Cultivators.

To deal with a Foundation Establishment Middle Stage Yao Beast, they were more than enough.

But when they found that Beast, they were shocked to discover it was already at the Early Golden Core Stage.

Although its aura was unstable, its Spiritual Pressure chaotic, and there were unhealed cracks on its scales, as if it had forced a Breakthrough using some evil method.

Perhaps it had swallowed too many Mortals, or eaten something it shouldn't have, or perhaps both.

But Golden Core was Golden Core. It wasn't something Foundation Establishment could touch.

The two took one look from afar and didn't even have the courage to fight; they turned and fled.

The Beast pursued them, and they were heavily injured and defeated in a single encounter.

They narrowly escaped thanks to the flying boat, but in their panicked flight, they drifted further and further from the Sect.

And that Beast wasn't hungry—three days ago, it had swallowed the Mortals of an entire island, over a hundred people, enough to keep it digesting for a while.

It also knew these two couldn't run far. Once their spiritual power was exhausted and the flying boat fell, it would rush in and swallow them one by one, crushing and gulping them down. For an Early Golden Core Stage Yao Beast, eating two Foundation Establishment Late Stage Cultivators was a great supplement.

They ran for one day, then another, and another.

On the evening of the third day, land finally appeared on the sea.

It was several islands. Large and small, scattered across the gray sea like a handful of stones tossed casually. The furthest one was the largest, its outline blurred in the twilight. Closer, green canopies could be seen. Closer still, white sandy beaches. There were trees, sand, fresh water, and people. The older Cultivator squinted, his Divine Sense barely reaching out—there were people. Quite a few. On the largest island, there was cooking smoke, houses, fishing nets, and boats. Children were running, and old people were sitting. It was as peaceful as a painting, just like the islands swallowed by that Beast on their way here.

The younger one sensed it too. He opened his eyes and looked in the direction of his Senior Brother's gaze, his lips moving without making a sound. Something flashed in his eyes and then dimmed.

Both fell silent.

Then, the older one's gaze became ruthless.

"That Beast... will find this place sooner or later."

The younger one didn't respond. His fingernails dug into the wooden cracks of the gunwale, his knuckles turning white; wood splinters embedded themselves under his nails, but he felt no pain.

"These islands are too far from the Tianshui Sect. We can't manage them." The older Cultivator's voice grew lower and lower, as if convincing himself as much as his Junior Brother. "Even without us, that Beast would find this place. It will eventually swim through this entire sea region. These Mortals... it's only a matter of time."

"Rather than letting that Beast eat these people for nothing, why not..." The older Cultivator paused, his Adam's apple bobbing again. "Why not let it be delayed here for a while? We can take the chance to escape and return to report to the Sect Master. We'll ask the Sect Master to take action and avenge them."

The younger one finally spoke. His voice was even raspier than his Senior Brother's, forced out from deep in his throat with a reckless calm: "Senior Brother is right."

No struggle, no hesitation, not even many words wasted.

Both knew what this meant. The Mortals on those islands, hundreds of people, would die. They would be eaten clean by that Beast, with not even a bone left.

But so what? They were just Mortals.

In this sea region, there were dozens more such islands and thousands more such Mortals. Who would care if a few islands or a few hundred people were lost?

What the Tianshui Sect cared about were the Immortal Sprouts.

It was those children with Spiritual Roots.

Right now, they had to return alive. The Tianshui Sect couldn't afford to lose two Foundation Establishment Late Stage Cultivators all at once. The Sect couldn't bear such a loss. This was the truth. The plain, hard truth.

Besides, that Beast deserved to be killed anyway. Once the Sect Master took action and avenged these Mortals, who could say anything? Mortals made offerings to the Immortals while they were alive, and the Immortals avenged them after they died; it was only natural. This was the rule. The rule of this sea region, and it had been the rule for hundreds of years.

The flying boat shuddered violently; the formation patterns brightened briefly and then dimmed. But its speed indeed increased by a few notches.

No one noticed that high in the sky, at the boundary between the twilight and the clouds, there was a person who had been there all along.

He had been standing there from the moment they appeared in this sea region.

From the first time the flying boat appeared on the horizon, from when that black dot became a ship, from when those two people in tattered robes on the ship started flying in this direction.

He saw their wretched state, their fear, and their condition of exhausted spiritual power and life force.

He also saw the look in their eyes when they gazed at those islands.

He saw everything.

He suspended there, motionless and silent, unnoticed by anyone.

His robes fluttered slightly in the sea breeze, and the twilight spread out behind him, plating his silhouette in a layer of dark golden light.

His gaze fell from above, landing on the flying boat, on the two wounded Cultivators in tattered robes, on the direction the flying boat was turning, and on that Beast getting closer and closer in the distance.

It was calm and cold.

Like the winter sea.

Yun Ming shook his head; he had given them a chance.