"Ho! Ho!"
After flying an unknown distance, the massive body of the flood dragon twisted and convulsed before crashing to the ground, raising clouds of dust.
It transformed back into human form.
Its body, covered in black scales, was riddled with dark red wounds.
The ferocious dragon head gasped for breath, its sharp claws reaching down to touch the pool of blood.
Its lower half had been severed by a halberd, leaving only half of its body.
Fear and lingering terror filled its eyes.
Leaning against a tree, the dragon let out a hoarse roar, its crimson tongue flicking out.
Its rough, scaled claws glowed red-hot as it sealed its wounds with a sizzling sound.
From this day forward, there would be no more Zhang Hengzhou of Qingfeng Mountain—only the Sixth Prince of Yangchun River, the Flood Dragon Lord.
That is, if it could escape back to the Yangchun River.
A deep, venomous hatred gathered in its fierce eyes.
It was a three-thousand-year-old demon who had condensed its core, yet it had appeared so weak in front of Chen Qiankun.
"Zhenmo Division! Zhenmo Division!"
The flood dragon slowly regained some strength, its face filled with envy.
The core condensation realm was divided into three steps: condensing liquid into a core, nurturing the core in the sea of qi, and shattering the core to nurture the spirit.
The second step was the most crucial.
The core was like a placenta—when first condensed, it contained only pure natural energy, like an empty egg.
What would emerge after the core shattered depended on what had been used to nurture it during the second step.
If it was nurtured with sword intent, blood qi, or essence... one could achieve the realm of a Mixed Origin Grandmaster.
Demons who reached this level could be called demon kings.
But the dozen or so generals of the Zhenmo Division, including the commander of Qingzhou, with the exception of a rare few, all took a shortcut by using the power of faith and worship.
They fed their cores with the faith and worship of the people of Qingzhou, waiting for the core to hatch and give birth to a Yin God.
This realm was no longer bound by martial arts and was entirely different from the Mixed Origin realm.
It belonged to a separate path, known as the Martial Immortal.
In close combat, Martial Immortals were far inferior to Mixed Origin Grandmasters, but they had their own mysteries—such as the ability to project their Yin God, travel the world, and listen to the sounds of the eight directions.
This was originally the path to godhood for mountain spirits and wild demons—doing good deeds, building temples, accumulating worship, and becoming mountain gods, river mothers, or local deities.
But martial artists had learned this method and, with the backing of the imperial court, had taken advantage of their privileged position to plunder the power of faith.
How old was Chen Qiankun? Only eight hundred years old.
Yet, with the title of General of Linjiang County's Zhenmo Division, he had accumulated such a foundation.
Though he couldn't slay demons from a thousand miles away, he could briefly project his Yin God, wielding a sharp blade to strike from afar, nearly taking the flood dragon's life with a single slash.
This indicated that the Martial Immortal within Chen Qiankun's core was already taking shape, needing only time to mature before the core shattered and the Yin God emerged.
"Qingfeng Mountain can't hold him!"
The flood dragon's eyes filled with despair.
The boundless sword intent could trap the physical body, but how could it trap the Yin God? Even the ancestor of the Zhang family, a wisp of a soul residing in the ancestral sword, sustained by the blood of generations of disciples, had thought himself safe from martial artists' methods.
He had dared to appear before Chen Qiankun... but now, he had likely been slain by the old general's Yin God.
"Escape!"
The flood dragon finally regained some strength and began dragging its broken body across the ground with its hands, crawling desperately.
As long as it could return to the Yangchun River, where dragons belonged to water, not even Chen Qiankun or the true Martial Immortal of Qingzhou's Zhenmo Division could do anything but sigh in frustration.
It had worked so hard to build a reputation as a righteous figure, using the identity of a Qingfeng Mountain disciple to condense its core in the Sword Pool and become the sect leader.
Step by step, it had been on the path to competing for the power of faith.
But now, clinging to the identity of Zhang Hengzhou had cost it half its body! Even worse, in its current state, it didn't dare reveal its true form as a flood dragon to cover its tracks.
What a humiliation!
The flood dragon desperately concealed its aura as it crawled, moving almost as fast as flying through the air, but with the added benefit of safety.
Suddenly, its body trembled violently, and it raised its head to see a sky filled with crimson energy.
The sound of faint footsteps reached its ears.
"Chen Qiankun, you go too far!"
The flood dragon, like a startled bird, turned around sharply, its voice filled with fear and a hint of hysteria.
But then, it saw a figure that filled it with venomous hatred.
A handsome young man, breathing heavily, his disheveled hair damp with sweat and sticking to his pale cheeks.
He wore a black robe, its hem fluttering slightly in the wind.
His hand gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, and his deep, dark eyes burned with endless killing intent.
Then, he stopped at what seemed to be a safe distance.
"It's you."
The flood dragon was stunned, suddenly finding the situation absurd and feeling a deep pain in its heart.
Did it look so pitiful that even a mere Jade Liquid realm youngster dared to chase after it?
Seeing the young man stop, the flood dragon was puzzled.
"You're just a captain, earning two hundred taels a month. Why come alone?"
Shen Yi wiped the sweat from his forehead.
He swore that since he opened his eyes in the Liu family, he had never run so hard in his life.
Fortunately, there was a strange connection between them, allowing him to slowly catch up despite his lack of stamina.
After a moment of thought, he lowered his hand.
A burst of Heavenly Gang Blood Qi descended with full force, crashing onto the flood dragon's broken body!
Only now did Shen Yi gradually catch his breath and calmly explain, "Because you looked at me three times."
The flood dragon's scales were marked with white streaks from the blood qi, and the countless cracks on its body began to split open, demonic flames licking at its flesh.
Yet, the expression on its dragon head remained unchanged.
"You want to kill me just because I looked at you?"
"Three times."
Shen Yi pursed his lips, correcting the flood dragon with a calm but sincere tone.
"Not just you. I want to kill your entire family."
He spoke from the heart.
In the flood dragon's eyes, Shen Yi saw hatred and malice, but no trace of a way out for himself.
So, even if there was the slightest chance the flood dragon could escape, he had to personally snuff it out.
Otherwise, he might face the wrath of the entire Yangchun River flood dragon clan.
"Ho! Ha—"
The flood dragon fell silent for a long time, as if understanding the young man's thoughts.
Suddenly, it burst into laughter, trembling uncontrollably, laughing so hard it could barely breathe.
Its claws pressed heavily forward as it snarled, "You've got some brains."
Zhang Hengzhou had been so valued by the Qingfeng Mountain sect leader, treated like a son, because they shared a common trait—both were fiercely protective of their own.
Moreover, Jiao Feng wasn't a half-demon; it was the flood dragon's true offspring, born from a union with a female flood dragon before it left the Yangchun River.
Worried that the young dragon would be bullied by its kin, it had brought the child out of the river.
It was the flood dragon's only... true... offspring!
And now, the familiar and intense aura emanating from the young man drove it to madness.
Even knowing that Chen Qiankun could appear at any moment, killing a mere Jade Liquid realm martial artist would be effortless.
"So what are you waiting for? Come on! Kill me!"
The flood dragon let out a shrill cry, crawling forward a short distance before seeing Shen Yi silently take a few steps back and summon another wave of Heavenly Gang Blood Qi.
It advanced; he retreated.
For every step it took, he matched it precisely.
The flood dragon: "..."
"Don't come any closer. I'm a little scared."
Shen Yi stood with his hands at his sides, his voice calm and honest as he spoke the truth.
Then, he raised his hand and summoned a third wave of blood qi.
The earlier battle between core condensation realm experts had completely surpassed his understanding.
So, he truly wasn't confident.
The blood qi, which had always been effective, seemed to have little impact on the flood dragon.
But Shen Yi believed that persistence would yield results.
If it didn't, it just meant he hadn't done enough.
In the span of a few breaths, nearly twenty palm strikes left his face pale.
The power of the blood qi had increased, but so had the cost, far beyond what it had been before.
A dense, relentless storm of blood qi rained down on the flood dragon, dyeing the sky a dark red.
Just as the flood dragon thought Shen Yi was exhausted, the young man slowly held his breath.
He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, a golden light shone in his pupils.
His hand, which had just paused for a moment, rose once more!
"What kind of demonic art is this?"
Faced with this incomprehensible scene, the flood dragon's expression changed slightly, a strange feeling creeping into its heart.
Feeling the tearing pain gradually spreading across its back, its gaze turned cold.
After a moment of hesitation, it slowly turned and began crawling away.
Something's wrong! I need to leave!
"..."
The sound of faint footsteps echoed again.
The flood dragon turned its head sharply, glaring back in anger, but could only helplessly retract its gaze and crawl even more desperately.
Yet, the footsteps followed at a steady pace, stopping only when it looked back.
Shen Yi was always ready to retreat, giving it no chance to counterattack.
Along with the footsteps came an endless barrage of blood qi.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The flood dragon's tough back was engulfed in raging flames, its countless wounds splitting open completely.
Dark red demon blood gushed out, staining the ground.
Finally, it stopped moving.
Looking at the shadowy figure of the young man, who followed like a ghost, its pupils filled with bloodlust.
It bared its fangs and crimson tongue, roaring in fury, "You're scared of your mother!"
"Get lost!!"
The young man's ruthless attacks showed no sign of fear.
What kind of person was this? Did he have no dignity as a martial artist? Bullying a crippled flood dragon?!
(End of Chapter)