The port was constructed against the eastern city wall of the island. This area, the flattest terrain on the entire island, was ideally suited for building such a harbor.
A colossal vessel, over two hundred meters in length, lay docked steadily at the port.
Night had deepened, and the autumn sea air was bitterly cold. Around fifty to sixty soldiers of the Lanhai Soul Engineer Regiment huddled on deck, shivering and occasionally moving their limbs to keep warm.
Not all soul masters were immune to the elements. That required either a special martial soul—like one with ice or fire attributes—or a significantly advanced cultivation. But among the Lanhai Regiment, a ragtag group with no real standing in the Sun Moon Empire, few if any met such conditions.
Their cultivation levels varied wildly, most of them barely reaching the thirtieth rank. Moreover, these soul engineers focused almost entirely on soul power, neglecting physical conditioning. Compared to the traditional soul masters of the original three empires on the Douluo Continent, they were considerably weaker in body—barely stronger than ordinary people.
"Damn it, we're just born to suffer. Not like those noble ladies," grumbled a tall, lean young man dressed in black, exhaling a cloud of warm air as he complained to his nearby companion.
Unlike the cold and dark deck, the five-tiered cabin structure of the ship remained brightly lit. The rooms where the noblewomen stayed were even outfitted with soul tools for heating.
Next to him, a short, rotund youth with a nearly spherical physique leaned against the deck railing, a mysterious smile flickering in his small eyes. He shifted his bulk slightly, clasped his hands together, and mocked, "Well, that's just because we didn't work hard enough. We should be grateful. Just be grateful, and everything will be fine."
"Work hard? Like hell that matters. Is effort going to magically give you a powerful martial soul like those noble brats were born with?"
The tall young man scoffed, slumping beside his companion. They were both from the same coastal fishing village in the Sun Moon Empire, and long familiarity made their banter natural. He knew full well the fat one's sarcasm, and was just playing along.
The fat one nudged him with a foot and grinned wickedly. "What do you say? Why don't you go knock on one of those noble girls' doors? Maybe one of them has terrible taste and takes a liking to you. You might just leap to the top overnight."
"You go if you're so eager. I'd rather stay out of trouble. I at least know my limits," the tall one retorted irritably, glancing around to stay alert.
Even with the Lanhai Regiment's lax discipline, no one dared slack off when the regiment commander was around.
Unfortunately, as luck would have it, Yu Yun—the regiment commander—was at that moment stepping onto the deck via the iron gangplank, accompanied by several soldiers.
"Cut the damn slacking. The commander's here," the tall youth whispered harshly to his companion, quickly springing upright and straightening his back.
The sound of others rising echoed across the deck. Yu Yun, small in stature, coldly swept his sharp gaze over the assembled soldiers.
"We set sail at dawn tomorrow. Everyone stay sharp."
"Yes, Commander!" came the collective response—though strangely, each soldier seemed to hear only their own voice, even though their comrades were standing right beside them.
Then, without warning, the dimly lit deck plunged into pitch-black silence.
Yu Yun clutched his head in pain. His dark red eyes filled with bloodshot veins as his face turned deathly pale. Even his consciousness began to blur.
But as a Soul Sage-level expert, he reacted quickly. He unleashed his martial soul while roaring, "Enemy attack! Prepare for battle!"
Seven soul rings—one white, two yellow, three purple, and one black—rose around him in a slow orbit. His withered muscles swelled, and strange black turtle armor with yellow patterns appeared on his chest, back, and abdomen.
But his roar was in vain. Even with his level of power, Yu Yun had nearly passed out. The lesser-trained soldiers of the Lanhai Regiment had no hope of resistance.
A raspy voice echoed from the darkness, first distant, then abruptly right beside his ear:
"Turtle martial soul?"
Yu Yun's hair stood on end. His first, third, fourth, and sixth soul rings lit up simultaneously.
"Who's there?!"
But now his voice wavered with uncertainty.
This bizarre situation reminded him of something rare: a soul master's domain. If that was the case, his shout likely hadn't traveled beyond the space they were in.
All he could do now was stall for time, hoping the Xihai Soul Engineer Regiment stationed at the port would notice the disturbance and summon Haixiao. With his rank as an eighth-tier Soul Engineer, Haixiao could stabilize the situation.
Yu Yun remained calm.
With the amplification of four defensive soul skills, his turtle shell rapidly expanded, covering his entire body. Dense black soul power gleamed solidly on the armor's surface. Even standing still, he radiated an unshakable presence, like a mountain.
His martial soul's defense was already formidable, and with four skills activated simultaneously, his defense was now second only to using his seventh skill—Martial Soul Avatar.
Yu Yun hadn't used his Avatar yet because it required time to charge. He had worked hard to rise from a commoner to his current rank and had no intention of dying easily. This was already his limit.
But against overwhelming power, such efforts were meaningless.
A muffled grunt escaped Yu Yun as cracks spiderwebbed across his massive shell. Then, with a thunderous shatter, it disintegrated into countless light particles.
Bang—! A spectral hand pierced straight through his left chest.
As the darkness faded, the faint light from the ship's interior soul lamps revealed a lean, steely old man clad in dark purple armor patterned with dragon scales. Three savage claw scars streaked across his right eye, still tinged with fresh blood—a terrifying sight.
"Cough, cough—" Yu Yun turned to look, eyes widening in horror at the purple dragon-head emblem on the man's chest.
"Royal... Royal Dragon…"
Blood poured from Yu Yun's mouth and nose. He tried to speak but collapsed before he could finish.
The attacker was none other than Wang Xiao, leading the team that had come to rescue Xu Zihuang.
Following him closely was Yao Yang, and behind them were more than forty elite members of the former Royal Dragon Soul Engineer Regiment.
As for the remaining soldiers of the Lanhai Regiment, they lay collapsed on the deck, blood oozing from their eyes, ears, and mouths. The cabins where the noblewomen resided had also fallen eerily silent.
(End of Chapter)
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