Chapter Seventy-Nine: Death

Dragons! The most enigmatic totem of the legendary Divine Land, the supreme symbol of imperial majesty, rulers capable of overturning rivers and seas and commanding all living things. Now, four of them had gathered atop a nameless mountain, twisting and turning, their violent roars echoing in succession, piercing through the clouds into the heavens. Within thousands of miles of wilderness, all creatures fell silent, the world as still as death, allowing these four dragons to bellow unrestrained.

“Ji Pan, hurry and report this matter to Eldest Brother. Gong Long, Gong Qi, you two come with me. We must avenge our cousin Chao Tong!” declared the golden dragon, whose immense head was as large as a house. The other three dragons were slightly smaller in size. The black dragon responded, rising on a dark cloud and swiftly disappearing into the sky.

“Go!” With a furious shout, the golden dragon surged forward, covering a hundred miles in pursuit of Qian Cai and his companion. The two purple dragons exchanged glances and followed closely. The three dragons flew low over the land, their passage stirring up sand and stones, wild winds tearing through forests, uprooting trees as easily as weeds.

“Junior brother, don’t let Master or anyone else know what happened today. Otherwise, we’ll surely be punished.” Qian Cai, riding his five-colored coin seal, swallowed a recovery pill to steady his heart. In just another cup of tea’s time, they would reach the territory of the Hundred Flowers Sect on Mount Qiyun. This venture had been a huge windfall, enough to offset decades of arduous training. Qian Cai was exhilarated.

Lin Feng smiled and nodded. Today had broadened his horizons, boosted his confidence, and earned him a spiritual fruit—a threefold reward indeed.

Qian Cai planned to retreat into cultivation as soon as he returned to the mountain, first swallowing the Fire Serpent Fruit, then slowly refining the Flood Dragon’s inner core, and finally crafting a treasure armor from its skin. Hey, he thought, he might even surpass Senior Brother—no, he definitely would! The thought brought a smile to his face.

Yet, as the two were dreaming of their future, a tremendous pressure suddenly descended from behind, three terrifying auras bearing down like Mount Tai, leaving them breathless and utterly powerless to resist.

“We’re doomed!” Qian Cai glanced back and spotted the three dragon shadows dozens of miles away, his skin erupting with goosebumps, nearly collapsing in terror.

“Hold on to me!” he shouted, gathering every ounce of spiritual force to flee desperately.

“Roar—” The three dragons pursued relentlessly, their presence and roars shaking the wilderness with a resonance that seemed to echo from every direction.

Heart and soul shattered! Lin Feng had never imagined he would one day face true dragons—three, at that—not as harbingers of rain but as hunters out for their lives. The golden dragon in the lead tore the clouds apart, leaving a long, beautiful trail like fish scales, while the purple dragons split the sky, arcs of lightning exploding from their scales as if they had emerged from the heart of a thunderstorm.

Upon spotting their quarry, the golden dragon let out a thunderous roar. With a leap, it appeared only ten miles away, repeating its instantaneous movements until it was nearly upon Lin Feng and Qian Cai.

The massive dragon’s eyes burned with anger and disdain, its golden scales shimmering with mesmerizing hues. Under the breath of the true dragon, the air grew hot and thin. Lin Feng stared at the monstrous beast behind them, forgetting fear entirely. When the gap in power was as vast as heaven and earth, what use was fear? All that remained was to await death.

Qian Cai, fighting for his life, sweat streaming down his forehead, fled desperately toward Mount Qiyun.

The four-clawed golden dragon was furious; to have someone attempt murder and escape right before him was a slap in the face. As the second-in-command of the Nine Dragons Hall, how could he tolerate such disrespect to his dragon might? Dragons were, after all, the proudest of all races.

He accelerated in an instant, his colossal form closing in behind the two fugitives. With a whoosh, a torrent of golden dragon flame burst from his mouth, stretching dozens of yards, engulfing both men in a blaze of fury.

A sea of golden flames enveloped them; pain vanished, skin and bone charred instantly, consciousness gone in a flash, a red light flickering briefly within his body. Bang! Lin Feng, reduced to charcoal, plummeted straight down from the clouds, while Qian Cai, staggering within the flames, gritted his teeth and ripped apart a thousand-mile escape talisman, slipping away right under the golden dragon’s nose.

“Roar—” A golden flame surged around the dragon, his furious roar shaking the earth. “You two, search the wilderness! Bring him to me, tear him apart!”

Gong Long and Gong Qi, the two purple lightning dragons, narrowed their eyes and split off to search north and south. The four-clawed golden dragon glanced down at the cold pool, snorted, and sped off toward the Hundred Flowers Sect. At his level of cultivation, a single glance was enough to confirm Lin Feng’s death; such insignificant beings weren’t worthy of his notice. The purple flame flood dragon could never have died at this one’s hand. Only that leering fellow was the true source of his hatred. If this grievance was not resolved, their sect would have to bear the consequences!

Hundred Flowers Sect, Mount Qiyun. Jun Wuji, turning an icy fragrant lily between his fingers, lowered his head in contemplation. Suddenly his gaze flickered, a cold gleam covering his handsome face, and in the next moment he vanished from the garden, leaving only falling orchid petals behind.

“Jun Wuji, come out here!” The golden dragon, still hundreds of miles from Gentleman’s Peak, let loose a furious roar atop the peaks of Mount Qiyun. Its overwhelming presence scattered the auspicious clouds, sending dozens of immortal cranes and divine birds fleeing in terror.

Gentleman’s Peak and Dragon Fortune Peak were closest to the wilderness, with Dragon Fortune Peak hosting the inner sect disciples. At this moment, tens of thousands of sect members gazed upward, faces pale, though the bold among them mounted flying swords and shot toward the intruder. Hundreds of sword lights converged into a torrent, growing stronger and stronger, surging toward the gate at the front of Gentleman’s Peak, a tide of color and force.

“Teng Chong! You dare address our sect master by name and trespass upon our immortal mountain—what is your purpose?” The normally genial Huichun Mountain, riding his leisurely gourd, frowned and questioned sternly, flanked by dozens of disciples.

The four-clawed golden dragon sneered, a flash of gold transforming him into a handsome young man clad in pale gold embroidered robes, his hair bound with a jade and purple crown, golden pupils deep and unfathomable as a dark abyss, making him impossible to read or approach.

“Huichun Mountain, you’re not qualified to speak with me. Call Jun Wuji out!” Teng Chong coldly surveyed the growing crowd of cultivators in the sky, raising his hand to reveal a single-horned golden spear.

“Hmph! You’ve got nerve, spewing arrogance—seeking death!” The furious Yan Dongjue shot through the air, raising the Ten Absolutes Sword, ready to strike down the dragon.

“Wait…” A faint, icy voice drifted into the crowd. Like the wind, a man appeared in midair, his ethereal robes glowing softly, hair like silk, features as flawless as jade, his cold gaze penetrating to the soul’s depths, quietly regarding the dragon master before him.

Teng Chong’s golden eyes narrowed slightly. “Jun Wuji, you finally dare show yourself. Hand over the culprit to me, or you’ll force us to act!”

Yan Dongjue, beside himself with rage, cursed, “Scoundrel! How dare you, a beast, show off in front of the sect master. I’ll take your dragon sinew and core—prepare to die!”

“Hahaha, Yan Dongjue, who do you think you are? If you wish for death, I’ll grant you your wish!” Teng Chong bellowed, brandishing his spear, ready to charge. Two hot-tempered Nascent Soul masters, heedless of the hundreds watching from the sky and the presence of the sect master, were about to kill each other at the slightest provocation.

As soon as the Ten Absolutes Sword for Slaying Immortals appeared, the weather shifted. The single-horned golden spear whirled, golden thunder exploding from nowhere. Two supreme spiritual treasures, not yet clashing, already triggered strange phenomena in the heavens and earth.

“Teng Chong, you dared attack my sect disciple, leaving one dead and one wounded. Even if the Dragon Emperor himself came, you wouldn’t escape justice.” Jun Wuji’s voice was cold and indifferent, like a murmur. Teng Chong’s heart was shaken, unable even to retort before the figure of Jun Wuji, the “Gentleman’s Sword” and sect master, blurred, the surroundings transformed. The sky was no longer sky, clouds no longer clouds, the world plunged into darkness, stars wheeling, floral rain cascading down, a terror born from the heart overwhelming him. Teng Chong roared, transforming into a hundred-zhang golden dragon, flames spewing from his mouth, yet not a single petal was harmed.

“What is this technique? Damn it!” Enraged, Teng Chong’s gigantic form surged across dozens of miles, but the endless rain of flowers still surrounded him. “Ah—Jun Wuji, come out! Come out and face me!” He leapt again and again, but nothing changed. The proud second-in-command of the Nine Dragons Hall was driven mad, his hysterical roars echoing endlessly, yet only Jun Wuji could hear them.

Everyone present was stunned by the sect master’s feat, petrified at how he had effortlessly captured a golden dragon. A four-clawed golden dragon, royal among dragonkind, far above mere flood or purple dragons, had been utterly defeated without Jun Wuji even striking.

“Brother Yan, come with me. Brother Hui, keep your people here and do not act rashly against the demonic cultivators of Nine Dragons Hall.” As Jun Wuji finished speaking, his figure gradually faded.

Yan Dongjue and Huichun Mountain exchanged pale looks, the sect master’s strength growing ever more unfathomable. Perhaps he was not far from glimpsing the ultimate Way.