Accompanied by a group of Empyrean Snappers was a large ship, on the deck of which stood Inala, his expression cheerful, inhaling the fresh air while gawking at the sprawling Dralh Sea.
"How the heck are you cheerful in this situation?" Wittral grumbled from nearby, feeling irritated upon seeing Inala happy, "We can't cultivate anymore."
"What's the problem with that?" Inala raised an eyebrow and shadowboxed for a couple of seconds, "I'm free from influence. At present, I'm at my natural self."
That was indeed the truth. Whether it was his identity as a Mammoth Clan, the influence of a Zinger through his Primary Nature, and the influence of an Empyrean Tusk through his Secondary and Tertiary Natures, Inala didn't feel any at the moment.
Here, inhaling fresh air, he was truly free. At this moment, he could care shit about the Mammoth Clan's fate, for he was no longer subjected to the influence every Mammoth Clansman experienced.
