The Holy Hall's fleet stretched across the sea as if descending gods, majestic and imperious.
The Pope's flagship, in the center, was encrusted with dazzling gold leaf. Even though the details weren't clear on the sand table, it still shimmered in the sunlight like a floating Golden Holy Hall.
At the bow stood a statue holding a scepter, exaggerated and imposing.
Twelve medium-sized warships formed a tight diamond formation around it, clad in iron armor and bristling with ballistae, while ships from various places joined in succession.
The fleet was continually expanding.
"With a scale this large, they're probably planning to establish their authority at Gold and Silver Island." Wu Heng murmured softly, looking at the sand table.
Such a grand display wasn't necessary for a mere battle between heroes.
Such ostentatiousness clearly indicated their confidence that Wu Heng's side would lose, and that they intended to reassert the Holy Court's authority.
