The port was built against the eastern wall of the island. The terrain there was the flattest of the whole island, making it suitable for constructing a harbor.
A massive ship, over two hundred meters long, was docked steadily at the port.
Night had fallen. The late-autumn sea breeze was bone-chillingly cold. On deck, the fifty to sixty soldiers of the Lan Hai Soul Master Regiment curled up to preserve warmth, occasionally moving their hands and feet to keep their bodies from freezing.
Not all soul masters could resist the extremes of heat and cold. To do so required either a special martial soul—such as one with ice or fire attributes—or sheer strength in soul power.
In the Lan Hai Soul Master Regiment, a ragtag unit unranked in the Sun Moon Empire, the soldiers who met such conditions were one in a hundred at best.
Their cultivation levels were uneven, most with only around rank thirty in soul power. Moreover, their training emphasized increasing soul power alone, leaving their physical bodies weaker than the traditional soul masters of the former Douluo Continent empires. At best, they were only slightly stronger than ordinary people.
"Damn it, we're born to suffer. Not like those noble ladies," a tall, thin youth in black clothes muttered, blowing warm breath into his hands and complaining to his comrade.
Unlike the dark, frigid deck, the cabins of the five decks below glowed with light. The noble ladies' rooms even had soul tools installed for heating.
Beside the tall youth sat a short, fat young man whose body was nearly spherical. With a strange smile flashing in his small eyes, he shifted his weight and clasped his hands together, speaking in a mocking tone: "It's because we didn't work hard enough. We should be grateful. Gratitude is all that matters."
"Work hard? What use is hard work? Can hard work give you a powerful martial soul at birth, like those noble brats?"
The tall youth snorted coldly, sitting down beside the fat one in frustration. Both were from the same coastal fishing village of the Sun Moon Empire and had long been close. He naturally knew what his companion really meant—he was just venting.
The fat youth kicked him lightly, grinning lewdly.
"How about it? Why don't you try knocking on one of those noble ladies' doors? Maybe one of them will take a liking to you. You might just leap to the top in one step."
"You go if you want. I'm not looking for trouble. At least I know my limits." The tall youth shot back irritably, glancing around as he spoke.
No matter how lax the Lan Hai Regiment's discipline was, no one dared slack off under the commander's nose.
But as luck would have it, Yu Yun was just then boarding the deck from the port walkway with several soldiers.
"Quit slacking—the commander's here," the tall youth hissed, quickly straightening his back.
A series of shuffling sounds followed as the others stood as well. Yu Yun, short and wiry, swept his cold gaze across the soldiers on deck.
"We set sail back at dawn. Keep sharp."
"Yes, Commander!"
The men responded in unison—but strangely, each soldier heard only his own voice, despite his comrades standing right beside him.
Suddenly, without warning, the dimly lit deck plunged into pitch darkness.
Yu Yun clutched his head in pain, scarlet bloodshot lines spreading through his eyes as his face turned pale. Even his consciousness blurred.
But as a Soul Sage-level master, he quickly recovered. Releasing his martial soul, he shouted:
"Enemy attack! Prepare for battle!"
One white, two yellow, three purple, and one black—seven soul rings rose around him, glowing rhythmically. His withered muscles swelled, and most strangely, a black turtle shell etched with odd yellow patterns appeared over his chest, abdomen, and back.
But his roar was in vain. Even with his Soul Sage cultivation, he nearly lost consciousness. What chance did the weaker soldiers of the Lan Hai Regiment have?
…
"A Sea Turtle martial soul?" a hoarse voice echoed through the darkness. At first it seemed distant, but the next instant, it exploded right by Yu Yun's ear.
His hair stood on end. His first, third, fourth, and sixth rings flared simultaneously.
"Who goes there?!"
This time his voice held far less confidence.
The eerie scene reminded him of domains—abilities possessed only by very rare soul masters. If this truly was a domain, then his shout might never have carried beyond it.
All he could do now was stall for time, hoping the Western Sea Soul Master Regiment at the port would notice the anomaly on deck. If he could hold out until Hai Xiao arrived, the eighth-rank soul engineer would stabilize the situation.
His response was calm.
Under the effects of his four defensive soul skills, Yu Yun's turtle shell swelled several times larger, enveloping his small frame. His black soul power gleamed like solid matter across its surface. Simply standing there, he emanated an aura of immovable defense.
His Sea Turtle martial soul was already famed for defense, and with four defensive skills at once, his confidence in his durability was second only to using his seventh soul skill, Martial Soul True Body.
It wasn't that he didn't want to use it—but activating it required time to gather soul power, unlike instant-release skills. Already at his limit with four skills, he dared not risk it.
But before overwhelming power, it was meaningless.
A muffled grunt escaped his mouth. Cracking sounds like shattering glass followed as countless fissures spread across his massive shell.
Then, with a crash, it shattered into glowing fragments.
Bang— A clawed hand pierced through Yu Yun's left chest.
As the darkness lifted, the light from the cabin's soul lamps revealed a hardened old man clad in deep purple dragon-patterned armor. Three claw scars marked his right eye, smeared with fresh blood, a sight chilling to behold.
"Cough—cough—" Yu Yun turned his head with difficulty. His pupils shrank sharply at the sight of a ferocious purple dragon's head on the man's chest.
"Im—Imperial Dragon…"
Blood poured from his mouth and nose. Before he could finish speaking, his voice faded forever.
The intruder was none other than Wang Xiao, leading the group to rescue Xu Zihuang.
Yaoyang's shadowy figure emerged beside him, along with more than forty elite veterans of the former Imperial Dragon Soul Master Regiment.
As for the rest of the Lan Hai soldiers, all had collapsed on the deck, bleeding from their seven orifices. The noble ladies' cabins had also fallen silent.