A middle-aged man, wearing a black headscarf and wrapped in a cloak, sat up from a boat next to Ezreal.
This middle-aged man had an honest face and peculiar, shiny black eyes.
The man with the headscarf sat up, looked Ezreal up and down, and said, "No boatman around here is willing to talk about that island. It's cursed; there's no unluckier place."
The man with the headscarf looked at Ezreal seriously and said, "Young man, I don't know what you want to do there, but no boatman is willing to go there."
Ezreal squatted down, smiled, and greeted the man on the boat, saying, "Oh, hello there, uncle. I'm an explorer. Since you know so much, could you tell me which direction Galuna Island is in?"
The man with the headscarf hesitated, looked Ezreal up and down again, and still advised, "That's a place people call Devil's Island. Rumor has it that anyone who goes to that island turns into a demon, and even fierce pirates avoid it. Don't go there to explore; you'll die."
Ezreal extended his left hand, his golden gauntlet gleaming in the sunlight. A faint misty blue light emanated from the blue gem on the back of his hand. He extended his index finger, and a soft white light illuminated at its tip.
Ezreal stopped smiling and said, "Just tell me the direction; you talk too much."
Sweat broke out on the man's forehead. The white light at the golden-haired youth's fingertip seemed soft and fragile, as if a strong gust of wind could extinguish it, yet he felt a dangerous aura from that white light, like a natural predator, making him tremble uncontrollably.
Moreover, he had a feeling that this young man in front of him might actually kill him.
"A Mage?" the man with the headscarf muttered subconsciously.
Ezreal looked at the man with the headscarf expressionlessly, the white light at his fingertip expanding slightly. "Next sentence, if it's not what I want to hear, you will die."
The man with the headscarf wiped the sweat from his face, quickly pointed in a direction, and said, "It's to the west! Over 500 kilometers. I can take you there. I used to be a resident of Galuna Island; there's no one more suitable to be your guide."
Ezreal flicked his finger, the white light at its tip dissipated, and a smile reappeared on his face. He said, "To the west? That's a great help. The map isn't accurate, and finding it myself would be very troublesome."
Ezreal turned around and glanced towards the west.
The man with the headscarf was slightly stunned; the youth's demeanor was like two different people.
Rarely encountering a Mage who wanted to go to Galuna Island and seemed very powerful, the man with the headscarf volunteered again, standing up from his small boat and shouting, "I escaped from that cursed island in the past! I can take you there, no charge!"
Ezreal didn't turn his head, impatiently waved his hand, his smile once again fading, and said expressionlessly, "The demonic aura on you makes me sick."
The man with the headscarf's face suddenly changed, and he subconsciously hid his right hand behind his back.
A pair of eerie green wolf eyes quietly lit up in Ezreal's shadow. A thick black smoke emerged from the shadow, then transformed into a massive Shadow Direwolf with black wings behind the golden-haired youth.
As soon as the black Shadow Direwolf appeared, the people watching from a distance immediately let out cries of alarm and ran further away.
The man with the headscarf, who was closest, was so scared he stood rooted to the spot.
The Shadow Worgen, in its Shadow Direwolf form, was now baring its fangs, staring unblinkingly at the man with the headscarf with its eerie green eyes.
Ezreal did a backflip, landing steadily on the Shadow Direwolf's back, and gently patted it.
The Shadow Direwolf immediately flapped its pitch-black wings and soared into the air, the strong winds creating small waves on the surrounding sea.
Just as the Shadow Direwolf was about to carry Ezreal away, the golden-haired youth suddenly turned back to look at the man standing on the boat and asked, "To avoid any loose ends, let me ask, you haven't harmed anyone, have you?"
The man with the headscarf felt an extremely pure killing intent fall upon him from Ezreal's gaze, and his knees buckled, causing him to involuntarily fall to his knees on the boat.
The painful jolt of his knees hitting the wooden boat stimulated his nerves slightly, and he loudly replied, "No, no! Absolutely not!"
Ezreal smiled again, his smile gentle, and softly said, "That's good. Life is not easy, not easy in every sense of the word, so cherish life, yours, and others', right?"
The man with the headscarf shivered and loudly said, "Yes!"
Ezreal turned his head and patted the Shadow Direwolf.
The Shadow Direwolf arched its neck and let out a low howl. Its huge black wings flapped fiercely, transforming into a black streak of light heading west, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
By the dock, the man with the headscarf collapsed on his small wooden boat, gasping for breath, cold sweat streaming down... Ezreal rode the Shadow Direwolf for over an hour before finding his mission objective, Galuna Island.
Ezreal rode on the Shadow Direwolf's back, looking down.
A crescent-shaped island was located directly beneath him.
This was a small island with an area of about 100,000 square meters, not very large, comparable to the size of a small town.
The entire island was densely vegetated, with towering trees everywhere. At the very top of the island, there was a small mountain.
Ezreal could vaguely see an ancient, pyramid-shaped temple at the peak of the small mountain.
Ezreal rode the Shadow Direwolf, circling over Galuna Island for a while, finally discovering a small village.
Looking down from above, the village was surrounded by tall wooden fences. The houses inside were primitive bungalows built of wood, grass, and stone, some even pure wooden cabins with thatched roofs.
It was probably around two o'clock at this moment, and many people in the village were moving around, some basking in the sun, making it look like a pleasant small village.
Ezreal patted the Shadow Direwolf.
Its huge black wings flapped, and the Shadow Direwolf carried Ezreal in a direct dive downwards.
A dark-skinned, honest-looking man in animal skin clothes was taking a walk with a thin, small old man holding a walking stick. As they walked, they suddenly felt the surroundings grow dark.
"Huh? Village Chief, is it getting dark so early?" The honest man scratched his head, subconsciously looking up at the sky.
"What are you talking about, Miska? It's only afternoon." The old man's face was full of worry, lost in thought. Hearing the man next to him speak, he couldn't help but tap him with his wooden walking stick, but received no response.
The old man, called the Village Chief, glanced at the honest man beside him, saw him staring intently at the sky, and couldn't help but look up himself.
At this sight, the old man's face immediately changed dramatically! He couldn't help but shout loudly!
"Run! The demon is here!"