The three of them set to work together, quickly clearing away all the snow covering the surrounding area. The enormous mark left by the fallen dragon's descent was suddenly laid bare before their eyes.
Just as Li Jiao had mentioned earlier, there were only traces here—no dragon corpse to be found. The dragon's flesh, blood essence, and even its bones had all been absorbed as nutrients, giving rise to a single Dragon Blood Flower.
There was no sign of anything Zhu Qing had left behind. No one knew whether he had ever come here.
Yang Kai sensed silently for a long while, then shook his head. "The origin power isn't here."
Though he wasn't a member of the Dragon Clan, ever since he had practiced the Dragon Transformation Art that Zhu Qing had taught him, the Golden Holy Dragon origin power had begun to truly fuse with him. His bloodline and body were gradually transforming in the direction of the Dragon Clan, so if dragon clan origin power existed in this place, he would certainly be able to sense it.
Zhu Lie glanced at him. "I'm going to cast a Dragon Clan secret art. Guard me."
Yang Kai nodded with a grave expression and stepped aside. Li Jiao, meanwhile, perked up with visible curiosity and longing as he looked toward Zhu Lie.
Dragon Clan secret arts were wondrous techniques that could only be performed by those who carried the dragon bloodline. Yang Kai could suppress both Zhu Lie and Zhu Qing in terms of bloodline power, but without systematic study, even he would be unable to perform Dragon Clan secret arts, as they involved the application of dragon essence and incantations spoken in the dragon tongue.
Li Jiao possessed a trace of impure dragon blood, so naturally his curiosity and yearning were intense.
Zhu Lie closed his eyes and steadied his mind.
A moment later, he suddenly opened them. He pressed his fingers together like a blade and drew them lightly across his other hand, the sharp nails slicing open his palm. A rich, iron scent immediately permeated the air.
Zhu Lie clenched the wounded fist and raised it high. Dragon essence surged through his body, and low, chanting syllables issued from his mouth. The incantations were abstruse and complex, jarring to the ear—as though Zhu Lie had a mouthful of something and was trying to speak around it.
Li Jiao, who had been straining his ears, wore a look of utter bewilderment and scratched at himself in frustration. After all this time, he had finally encountered a pure-blooded Dragon Clan member performing a secret art right in front of him, and he desperately wanted to learn by observation. Unfortunately, he couldn't even understand a single word, let alone absorb the technique.
Yang Kai couldn't understand it either. But he somehow felt that the Dragon Clan secret art Zhu Lie was performing bore certain similarities to the sorcery those ancient shamans used to carry out—both required the chanting of incantations.
Under their watchful eyes, drops of blood fell from Zhu Lie's palm. His dragon blood was quite different from normal blood. It resembled a ball of blazing flame, radiating a searing heat.
Upon hitting the ground, it hissed and sizzled, melting into the earth and vanishing from sight.
A fierce wind arose. Snowflakes swirled through the air. Zhu Lie's chanting grew higher and more piercing, gradually taking on the quality of a dragon's roar, or perhaps the rumble of thunder rolling across the sky, so forceful it made their eardrums ache. His red hair whipped wildly, and his robes snapped and billowed. The heavens and earth seemed entirely consumed by that draconic bellow.
All at once, Zhu Lie's voice cut off. His aura, which had been climbing to its absolute peak, deflated like a punctured balloon, plummeting in an instant. Even a sheen of sweat had broken out across his delicate features.
Though neither of them knew exactly what kind of Dragon Clan secret art this was, it had clearly exacted an enormous toll on him.
Both Yang Kai and Li Jiao gazed at him eagerly, but Zhu Lie's eyes were cast downward, fixed on the ground.
The earth, drenched in his blood, had turned a vivid crimson. The scorching energy collided with the ambient cold, sending up wisps of rising steam.
At a certain moment, Zhu Lie's eyes lit up. At the same time, Yang Kai and Li Jiao also sensed a shift.
The blood-stained ground was writhing. Something seemed to be breaking through the soil from below.
Under the three of them' focused attention, a tender crimson bud bloomed from the earth. It rose rapidly, its branches and leaves unfurling outward. In the span of a single blink, a plant roughly a foot tall stood on the ground—crimson through and through, as though sculpted from blood. At first glance, it resembled a piece of blood coral.
Zhu Lie drew the foot-tall blood coral up into his palm. A misty, crimson glow gathered atop its crown, then drifted in a particular direction as if guided by some intelligence—like a red ribbon trailing from the treetop.
Most peculiarly, the direction the red ribbon drifted was completely contrary to the wind.
Zhu Lie pointed in the direction the ribbon indicated. "Zhu Qing is that way. He's still alive."
Though neither of them knew how he had arrived at that conclusion, it was undoubtedly connected to the Dragon Clan secret art he had just performed.
Without a second word, Yang Kai summoned the Flowing Cloud Shuttle and called out in a low voice, "Let's go!"
Li Jiao stood rooted in place, looking at Yang Kai with an ingratiating expression. "Palace Master Yang, Li has already brought you to the location. The rest of the journey—hey, let's keep this civil, shall we? I am, after all, still—"
Before he could finish, Zhu Lie grabbed him and tossed him straight into the Flowing Cloud Shuttle. Li Jiao's face immediately twisted into a mask of bitter, wounded grievance.
He couldn't understand why this Dragon Clan member still refused to let him go. He had completed his task—he had brought Yang Kai and Zhu Lie to the right place. What came next should have had nothing to do with him. He ought to be free to leave this accursed place and return to the Li Dragon Palace. But things never quite worked out the way he hoped.
As a third-level Emperor Realm cultivator, it had been many years since he had tasted such a feeling of utter helplessness. He made a silent vow: if he survived this trip, he would never have anything to do with the Dragon Clan again. They were simply too much.
The Flowing Cloud Shuttle pierced through the sky, but its speed grew slower and slower.
Zhu Lie had grown very weak after casting his secret art. Yang Kai now held the blood coral in his hand, relying on the direction of the drifting crimson light to search for Zhu Qing.