Several hundred miles away from Linghu Qingqing and Lord Hu’s fleet, a small flying boat, almost the same color as the blue sky, stealthily hid within a wisp of cloud mist.
The flying boat, no longer than a dozen zhang, was extremely slender, with barely enough space in the cabin for a few people.
On this tiny flying boat, there were almost no defensive measures.
But speed—speed—speed was everywhere.
Extremely intricate and delicate speed talismans were embedded all over, pushing the boat’s velocity to the utmost limits.
Aside from speed, the surface of the flying boat was inlaid with dozens of treasure mirrors, each with different functions.
Dim glimmers flickered from them, and within tens of thousands of miles around, any slightest movement—wind blowing through grass or even small earthworms lazily crawling through muddy soil miles beneath the ground—could be effortlessly caught by these mirrors.
Inside the cabin, several men clad in tight black soft armor, their faces covered with black masks, black crystal chips embedded around their eye areas, leaving no inch of skin exposed, moved quickly and tensely.
Their presence was ghost-like and elusive.