Qiao Ruohe’s eyes were covered, leaving him unable to distinguish day from night. He felt the airship’s hull becoming increasingly unstable; despite flying through the air, it lurched as if tossed upon a vast, stormy ocean, the bow pitching downward one moment and the stern soaring high the next.
Without his spiritual power, he was no different from any mortal, save for his sharp wits. After three hours of violent jolting, he grew dizzy and nauseated. Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, he retched, spilling the remnants of his last meal all over himself.
The wind grew bitter, accompanied by the rumble of thunder and the lashing of torrential rain.
Chapter 373