Chapter 24: The Flood Dragon Displays Its Might
Ye Qingxuan led the Sword Cultivators of the Shenxiao Sword Sect in detonating their life-bound flying swords, catching the Seven Slaughter Sect and the Wuji Demon Sect completely off guard.
Though it was not enough to turn the tide of the entire battle, it blasted a gap through what had seemed like an impenetrable wall of iron and bronze, buying everyone a slim hope of survival.
Yang Fan, who had been mingling in the crowd, immediately felt his spirits lift. Without a second thought, he charged headlong toward the gap.
It seemed he was on the verge of breaking out of the encirclement.
Yet waiting for him were two black-robed figures blocking his path.
Facing those ruthless, battle-hardened black-robed figures, Yang Fan — still not fully recovered from his injuries — could not resist at all. In just a few exchanges, he was beaten into a state where he could no longer fight.
Shortly after, another Core Disciple of the Qingyun Sect, Xu Wei, was also gravely wounded.
Bang!!!
Li Luoyi was struck squarely in the back by a palm strike.
Pfft!!!
Blood gushed from her mouth as her body collapsed beside Ye Qingxuan.
At this point, all four Core Disciples of the Shenxiao Sword Sect and the Qingyun Sect had been defeated. Only death awaited them.
The battle raged on.
The Shenxiao Sword Sect had suffered devastating casualties.
After detonating their life-bound flying swords, the Sword Cultivators lost eighty percent of their combat power — they could do little more than wait for death.
Fortunately, a fair number had managed to break through the encirclement, though how many would ultimately survive remained unknown.
Yang Fan's heart turned to ash. His eyes were hollow, as though his very soul had left him.
Li Luoyi and Xu Wei wore expressions of utter despair.
As prides of the Qingyun Sect, they did not want to die — yet they had no choice but to accept reality.
Ye Qingxuan appeared calm on the surface, but her heart was filled with sorrow.
She had never imagined she would die like this.
Unwilling, yet utterly powerless.
The four Core Disciples had been captured. The Shenxiao Sword Sect, the strongest force on the field, had already seen more than half of its Sword Cultivators detonate their life-bound flying swords — even in their final moments, they refused to let the enemy have an easy time of it.
Those who had escaped were still being hunted.
The outcome of the battle was no longer in doubt.
Roaaaar~~~
A sound resembling a dragon's cry rang out, reaching everyone's ears.
At the same time, an overwhelming pressure that was nearly impossible to resist descended upon the battlefield.
It brought all fighting to an immediate halt, leaving everyone frozen in place.
As the crowd slowly raised their heads.
A Flood Dragon had appeared in the sky — no one knew when.
The sky-locking Array Formation seemed to have no effect on it whatsoever.
"A… a Flood Dragon?" Miao Kun muttered to himself in disbelief.
Flood Dragons evolved from serpents. The process of transforming into a Flood Dragon was exceedingly difficult — it required surviving a near-fatal heavenly tribulation. Once successful, the creature could reach the equivalent of the fifth human cultivator realm: the Sky Mastery Realm.
Yet the pressure radiating from this Flood Dragon was clearly beyond the Sky Mastery Realm — it was at least the sixth realm: the Divine Fusion Realm.
Could the Flood Dragon's lair be somewhere nearby?
Had the sounds of battle drawn it here?
What… what were they supposed to do now?
Given the strength this Flood Dragon had displayed, even if everyone charged it at once, they would only be delivering themselves as food.
They might not even be able to break through its defenses.
Roaaaar~~~
The Flood Dragon let out its not-quite-dragon cry once more.
The pressure instantly doubled.
Those with insufficient strength, or those already wounded, were crushed to their knees on the spot.
Miao Kun felt like crying.
Damn, their luck couldn't be any worse.
The Nine Nethers Secret Realm was so vast — and yet they had chosen to fight right near a Flood Dragon's lair. Wasn't that just asking to die?
He wanted to run.
But he didn't dare.
With everyone standing still, the moment he moved, he would instantly become the Flood Dragon's target.
The Flood Dragon's appearance had temporarily freed the people of the Shenxiao Sword Sect and the Qingyun Sect from immediate danger.
But they could not bring themselves to feel happy about it.
To put it in one phrase: they had just escaped the wolf's den, only to enter the tiger's lair.
Death awaited them either way.
Still, there was one small comfort.
Before, only they were going to die.
Now, everyone was going to die together.
"Hahaha… you bunch of scum, come on! Kill me! Why have you stopped moving? Weren't you so impressive just now? Gone stupid, have you?" A disciple of the Qingyun Sect burst into wild laughter.
He had been suppressed for far too long.
He had watched his closest friend die right beside him, completely powerless to do anything.
Sometimes death itself is not the most terrifying thing — it is the fear that precedes it. Knowing you are going to die, having no way to stop it, and simply waiting for death to arrive — that feeling alone is enough to drive anyone whose will is not iron-hard into madness.
His laughter rang across the entire battlefield. No one dared respond, each person terrified of drawing the Flood Dragon's attention.
There was only one thought in everyone's mind.
Please don't notice me!
Please don't notice me!
The dozens of black-robed figures were equally too frightened to move — after all, no one willingly seeks death.
The battlefield that had been so fierce just moments ago fell into an eerie, uncanny silence.
What happened next surpassed everyone's comprehension entirely — something they would never forget for the rest of their lives.
The Flood Dragon slowly descended, eventually landing on the ground.
And atop the Flood Dragon's head stood a masked man.
This sight left everyone present completely dumbstruck.
Their minds ground to a halt, utterly stripped of the ability to think.
A Flood Dragon was a proud and immensely powerful exotic beast. Even if one could defeat it in battle, standing atop its head was another matter entirely.
Unless it had submitted of its own will.
For a proud Flood Dragon to willingly submit to a human, there was only one possible explanation.
The gap in power between the two was simply too vast.
One had to remember — this was the Nine Nethers Secret Realm, not the outside world.
Everyone who could enter had a bone age of no more than one hundred years.
To subdue a Flood Dragon before the age of one hundred — just how terrifyingly powerful was this person?
While everyone was still reeling in shock, one person on the scene broke into a smile of delighted surprise.
Li Luoyi — Core Disciple of the Qingyun Sect!
She had already recognized that the masked man standing atop the Flood Dragon was the same person who had saved her before.
At the time, Li Luoyi had asked for his name, but received no reply.
Though she did not know her benefactor's identity, Li Luoyi was certain of one thing.
The masked man and the black-robed figures were enemies.
Which meant — she was saved!
The terror of death faded away, replaced by an intense surge of curiosity.
She desperately wanted to know what face lay beneath the mask of the man who had saved her twice.
Beside her, Ye Qingxuan, after her initial shock, found herself with a strange, inexplicable sense of familiarity about the masked man standing atop the Flood Dragon — yet she could not recall where she had seen him before.
Just as she was racking her memory.
Her peripheral vision fell on Li Luoyi beside her. She noticed that the despair and fear had vanished from Li Luoyi's face, replaced by the smile of someone who had survived a brush with death. That discovery interrupted her train of thought.
Ye Qingxuan's heart stirred with a guess.
Li Luoyi might know the masked man.
Lin Feng gazed at the battlefield strewn with corpses — many of them belonging to the Shenxiao Sword Sect.
Even though he did not know any of them personally.
They all belonged to the same sect.
In that moment, Lin Feng was truly furious.
As the Senior Brother of the Shenxiao Sword Sect.
He bore a share of responsibility for their deaths.
No matter what, without the Shenxiao Sword Sect there would be no Su Mubai, and without Su Mubai there would be no Lin Feng — and beyond that, the Shenxiao Sword Sect had sheltered him for over twenty years, allowing him to grow in peace. That debt of gratitude had to be remembered!
Whoever dared to strike against the Shenxiao Sword Sect was an enemy of Lin Feng.
The dead were beyond his power to bring back — so all he could do was avenge them.