In the pitch-black ship's cabin, the damp smell of mold and the scent of rust mingled in the stagnant air.
A handsome figure, robed in white purer than snow, stepped silently into this dark place.
The white robes brushed across the rain-soaked wooden planks, yet made not the slightest sound.
Pei Yuhang's eyes, as cold as winter stars, narrowed slightly. His long lashes cast a shadow in the dim light as his gaze slowly swept across both sides of the corridor—
Over a dozen headless bodies leaned against the walls in grotesque poses. The cuts on their necks were as smooth as a mirror, without a single trace of blood seeping out.
These were the Dao Sect disciples assigned to guard the Dragon Heart. They were undoubtedly the Sect's elite, yet now they all lay dead in silence, without even a single sign of a struggle.
A one-sided slaughter had just taken place here!
