The deeper they went, the more treacherous the water currents became.
Whirlpools formed without a sound, tugging at the ship's hull, while jagged black reefs loomed intermittently beneath the surface.
Song Ming focused his full attention on piloting the Water-Splitting Shuttle through the treacherous waters, its hull producing a harsh, grating sound as it scraped against the reefs.
After a pursuit lasting about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the waterway ahead suddenly widened, and the current grew much calmer.
They looked over and saw a cave entrance on the right-hand stone wall, worn exceptionally smooth by the current. Fresh bloodstains lingered at its edge.
"The lair!"
A glint flashed in Song Ming's eyes as he brought the Water-Splitting Shuttle to a steady stop near the entrance. "It's too heavily wounded. It fled back to its lair. We're going in!"
A Black Python was worth a fortune—its Essence Blood, its flesh, its scales, its Snake Gallbladder...
