The sunlight was brilliant above the sea of clouds as four warships cruised slowly onward.
Every soldier on deck was tense, even the Heavenly General at the bow, clutching his spyglass, would unconsciously clench his fists from time to time as he scanned the horizon.
It was the classic 'mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind'—today, they played the cicada. The 'mantis' had yet to appear, and as for the 'oriole,' it was hiding in the hold: a full one hundred and fifty fully armed Spirit-Transformation Heavenly Generals. What a grand spectacle.
Since joining the Heavenly Fleet, he had never received such an important transport assignment in more than three hundred and fifty years.
Time ticked by, and before they knew it, noon had arrived.
The fleet had traveled over three thousand li from Cloudrealm Sky Harbor, and was now more than a thousand li outside its defensive perimeter—yet the enemy still had not appeared.
"Maybe those guys really have given up," was the growing thought among the Heavenly Soldiers.
The tension that had gripped them gradually eased.
A few wisps of cooking smoke drifted out the portholes; the ship's cooks were busy, and several Heavenly Soldiers with halfway decent culinary skills had been roped in to help.
Although by Heavenly Fleet custom this was a special period, even if Marshal Silver himself were hiding in the cabin, the ship was under no obligation to provide extra rations for him.
Still, with so many Heavenly Generals visiting their turf, it wouldn’t do to treat them poorly, would it?
Since they were on duty, wine was out of the question, but adding a few more dishes was certainly doable—and basic courtesy.
Before long, a Heavenly Soldier emerged from the cabin and reported to the Heavenly General behind him, "General, the meal is ready."
"Good, let’s go. We’ll deliver it together." With that, the Heavenly General stowed his Far-Seer in his sleeve and turned toward the cabin.
This scene was perfectly captured by the Nine-Headed Wyrm, who was concealed several li away in the clouds, his aura hidden.
"Well? Can we make a move yet?" The eagle demon flapped its wings impatiently.
"Wait a bit longer."
"Still waiting? Wyrm-bro, if they reach open sky with no cloud cover, it’ll be much harder to get at them."
"Clouds or not, it’s the same. Don’t you know most Heavenly Fleet officers’ Far-Seers can pierce cloud cover?" Nine-Headed Wyrm said coolly, his eyes still locked on the distant warships.
Could this be a trap?
This doubt gnawed at him.
For ten days, no convoys had run between the two major Heavenly Fleet harbors. After days of waiting, they suddenly dispatched one—and now he hesitated.
Just two light escorts for protection—wasn’t that a bit thin? Did they think we didn’t exist?
And after ten days with no transports, they should have a backlog of goods and troops to move, yet they send only two transports...
Could this be a test?
In the past, he would have attacked without a second thought. But ever since his dealings with Monkey nearly got him killed, Nine-Headed Wyrm had realized how crucial cunning really was. Now, he always kept an extra eye out.
Besides, Monkey had warned him before they set out: Marshal Silver is no ordinary foe. Wherever danger might lurk, avoid it if possible.
After much thought, Nine-Headed Wyrm finally said, "Let’s wait for the next batch. If transports really are back to normal, there’ll be another convoy."
With that, he flew off toward Cloudrealm Sky Harbor.
At that moment, General Trent, standing in the cabin and peering out through his Cloud-Piercer Lens, sighed softly and put the lens away.
"It’s definitely Nine-Headed Wyrm. They’re heading for the harbor."
"Aren’t we going after them?" asked a Heavenly General nearby.
General Trent shook his head. "They’re all Spirit-Transformation demons. Too hard to chase. Besides, if we spook them, they’ll be even less likely to bite in the future. We get one shot at this—better notify the harbor."
"Yes, sir."
...
In the study at Cloudrealm Sky Harbor, General Ward reported, "General Trent confirms the enemy has appeared—it’s definitely Nine-Headed Wyrm. But they didn’t attack the fleet. Now they’re headed this way."
Seated at his desk, Marshal Silver rubbed the ring on his finger for a long while before speaking softly: "Send out the second wave."
"Yes, sir."
...
On the docks at Cloudrealm Sky Harbor, General Quinn tucked his Jade Tablet away and laughed, "Looks like the job falls to us! Board the ships!"
"Hey—!"
The Heavenly Generals at his side raised their weapons and cheered, each using their arts to leap aboard the warships.
With the moorings released, another four warships, guided by Heavenly Soldiers, slowly sailed out from the layered fleet and headed west.
By dusk, this fleet had reached the same zone where General Trent’s ships had sailed earlier. Yet Nine-Headed Wyrm still hadn’t made a move.
"Wyrm-bro, what’s up with you?" the serpent demon asked, puzzled.
"I..." Nine-Headed Wyrm pressed his lips together. "I feel like it’s a trap."
"A trap?"
"Yeah. The Heavenly Fleet is famous for its boldness and ruthlessness—they wouldn’t leave themselves without a countermeasure. This isn’t like them. Let’s wait a bit longer. If things go south, I can probably escape, but if you all get wiped out, where am I supposed to find that many Spirit-Transformation demons to pay back Monkey?"
With that, ignoring the protests of his fellow demons, Nine-Headed Wyrm once again led the group to withdraw.
...
"Marshal, they’ve withdrawn again," General Ward said, setting down his Jade Tablet.
"Withdrawn again... These fish are awfully cautious, not easy to hook." Marshal Silver gripped his chair’s armrest, leaned back, and closed his eyes in thought.
There were ways to ensure the fleet’s safety: increase the size of each transport wave, assign twenty or thirty thousand troops as escorts. With what they knew of the enemy’s strength, that should deter any attack.
But that way, the state of alert would never end.
The entire Heavenly Fleet would be forced onto the defensive.
After a long while, Marshal Silver spoke softly: "Third wave—add three transports."
"Three more?"
"Make it look like the earlier waves were tests, and now the real transports are starting."
"Understood."
...
Watching the seven warships of the third wave, Nine-Headed Wyrm couldn’t help but frown.
"Wyrm-bro, are we attacking this time or not?" asked the pangolin demon, cautiously.
After wavering, Nine-Headed Wyrm finally decided to pull out his Jade Tablet and report directly to Monkey.
After he explained the situation, Monkey replied simply: "Take three days off. We’ll see after that."
Nine-Headed Wyrm blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"Aren’t you worried it’s a trap? If so, just wait and see. If they can make every wave a trap, let them."
"So, if they’re still running transports after three days, we attack?"
"Not exactly," Monkey said lazily. "Our goal isn’t to kill, but to keep up deterrence and make trouble. If we’ve forced them to tighten up, that means we’ve basically succeeded. From here, we just strike occasionally, so they don’t forget the pain. The trick is never letting them guess our next move—if they can’t, we win; if they can, we lose badly. No need to rush. If we’re patient, they’ll get anxious."