The Ivory River originates from the True North Mountains beyond the border, flowing into the city of Crimson before emptying into the vast ocean.
A large ship was sailing upstream, slowly making its way from foreign waters.
From afar, it looked like a warship cutting through the ocean currents.
To call it a ship would be an understatement—it was more akin to a battleship. Mounted on it were over a dozen high-speed artillery turrets.
On the deck, dozens of men dressed in red sat cross-legged on the ground, their expressions solemn and reverent, resembling devout followers silently gazing ahead.
In front of them, a man around sixty years old, towering at two meters tall, sat cross-legged on a straw mat, like a mentor lecturing his disciples.
The man was built like a mountain, solid and
