Thirty li from the Dragon and Phoenix Manor, a true dragon manifested, and both sides locked in fierce combat froze in shock.
Sun Yu, whose face had been twisted in reverent awe, suddenly heard Yang Kai's warning echo in his mind. He hastily composed himself, straightened his expression, and barked at Yan Zhi, "Today, this very place shall be your burial ground! Surrender your life!"
The dragon's roar thundered once more. The colossal dragon, dozens of zhang long, shook its head and lashed its tail before hurtling toward Yan Zhi in a streak of golden light.
Yan Zhi dared not be careless. A long sword materialized in his hand — his saint-grade lower-tier artifact, the Mystic Ice Sword!
The moment this artifact was drawn, Yan Zhi's entire aura surged. Bone-piercing cold radiated from every inch of his body, and waves of icy mist coiled around the Mystic Ice Sword. Some hidden mystery seemed to stir within the blade, gathering power and waiting to be unleashed.
Before the massive dragon could close the distance, Yan Zhi lightly flicked his Mystic Ice Sword. The saint-grade blade instantly multiplied into countless copies, sword light cascading in every direction until the eye could scarcely follow.
Ripples of freezing qi poured from Yan Zhi's body, like a polar gale sweeping down from an eternal snow-capped peak. Within a radius of a hundred zhang, the temperature plummeted.
The saint-grade lower-tier sword streaked toward the golden dragon with an unstoppable momentum.
The enormous golden dragon did not dodge or evade. It charged straight ahead.
Tssss, tssss, tssss...
Sparks erupted in a dazzling shower as countless strikes slashed against the dragon's golden scales, sending bursts of brilliant flame into the air. A wave of searing heat crashed forward, and the might of the Mystic Ice Sword dissolved like a moon reflected in water or a flower glimpsed in a mirror — becoming unreal before being evaporated entirely.
Yan Zhi's eyes narrowed as dread crept into his heart.
Their Youhan Grotto-heaven specialized in ice-element cultivation techniques and martial arts. Encountering a true dragon brimming with scorching energy was like a mouse running straight into a cat — the worst possible match.
The Mystic Ice Sword couldn't even unleash eighty percent of its usual power.
Despite his arsenal of exquisite techniques, Yan Zhi didn't dare use them recklessly. Under the influence of that burning aura, even the circulation of energy within his body seemed to falter.
The true dragon loomed before him, its fearsome maw gaping wide. Yan Zhi let out an odd cry. His long sword swept outward, projecting circles of radiance like a chain of ice hurtling through the air, wrapping around the golden dragon.
The move had been nothing more than a desperate, last-ditch effort to buy himself a sliver of time to flee. Facing what might well be a ninth-rank Demon Emperor, Yan Zhi knew he was no match. The creature's majesty was overwhelming — if he kept up this fight, he could die.
In its presence, Yan Zhi felt as though he were walking a tightrope at every moment, his life hanging by a single thread.
Yet, unexpectedly, the rings of light actually halted the golden dragon's advance, freezing it in midair for a good while without breaking free.
Yan Zhi frowned, sensing something off.
If this golden dragon were truly a ninth-rank creature, there was no way it could have been blocked like this.
He probed more carefully, and what he found made his eyes widen: the golden dragon certainly looked imposing enough, but it didn't seem nearly as invincible as he had assumed.
The fluctuations of power surging from its body were roughly on par with his own — perhaps even slightly weaker.
His eyes darting, Yan Zhi abandoned any thought of fleeing. He unleashed every one of his refined techniques and engaged the golden dragon in a furious midair battle.
Seeing the Dragon Emperor's might prove so formidable, Chen Zhou — who had been on the absolute back foot — was galvanized. Through a seamless combination of offense and defense, he reversed his disadvantage against Bai Jingchu in an instant.
The warriors of the Dragon and Phoenix Manor were equally emboldened. Eyes that had been dim with despair now blazed with renewed brilliance, as though they glimpsed a brilliant future for their sect. In the blink of an eye, they shifted from defense to offense, driving the invaders of Youhan Grotto-heaven back step by step amid mounting casualties.
Shielded by that river of silver starlight, Sun Yu watched the aerial battle above with eyes wide as saucers, fists clenched tight, silently cheering the golden dragon on.
He also found himself wondering: why had Senior Yang still not shown himself? It seemed he was only using the Dragon Emperor's inherited abilities to fight. With his true strength, if he appeared on the scene, he could surely send Yan Zhi and his cohorts packing in humiliation.
Sun Yu's vision was too narrow to understand that in terms of realm and cultivation, Yang Kai was, in reality, merely a Transcendent Stage Three martial artist — and one who had only just broken through at that!
After fighting for a good while, Yan Zhi suddenly burst into loud laughter. "So this big worm is nothing more than that! Hahahaha!"
When the golden dragon first appeared, Yan Zhi had indeed been terrified. After all, what materialized before him was the legendary ninth-rank Demon Emperor. But after fighting all this time, he had finally figured out the golden dragon's true strength — it was roughly equal to his own. It was just a bit tougher, and all his techniques that hammered into it failed to inflict any damage whatsoever, every strike deflected by those golden scales.
This golden dragon clearly hadn't fully matured yet. At present, it was only at the early stage of the eighth rank! Yan Zhi assessed internally, and his composure returned, replacing the earlier panic.
The Mystic Ice Sword radiated waves of ghostly cold, clashing with the scorching heat within the golden dragon. The opposing forces annihilated each other, erupting into billowing clouds of mist. The entire sky became shrouded in white fog, and from a distance, all one could see were flashes of light and bursts of energy, with no way to discern what was actually happening within.
Inside that fog, Yan Zhi and the golden dragon smashed into each other time and again. In their close-range exchanges, Yan Zhi caught glimpses of distinctly human emotions flickering in those enormous dragon eyes, and a frown crept across his face.
He increasingly felt that his opponent was not a demon beast at all, but a person.
Its ability to adapt was unnervingly fast, and as the battle wore on, Yan Zhi felt the pressure mounting — as though this golden dragon were rapidly growing stronger with every exchange.