Dragon Kingdom Arc: Chapter 20 - Transcendence (Part I)

The gale roared wildly, like a ferocious beast determined to swallow everything between heaven and earth. It violently whipped up mountainous waves that crashed relentlessly against the jagged reefs along the shore, each collision erupting in a deafening boom, as if nature itself were unleashing its most primordial roar. Trees strained under this irresistible force, their branches dancing frantically—now swaying east, now west—like a helpless soul struggling in the midst of a storm.

On the streets, pedestrians hurried along in panic, clutching their umbrellas, seeking a shred of shelter from the raging wind. Yet the gale, seemingly unsatisfied with this challenge, tore at their umbrellas even more violently, making it nearly impossible for them to move, forcing them to stumble in search of a harbor from the wind.

Suddenly, the sky was ripped open by a sharp bolt of lightning, followed immediately by rolling peals of thunder that rumbled like a giant beast, vibrating against eardrums. Sensing the impending downpour, the gale grew even wilder and more lawless, running rampant as if to drag the entire world into its chaotic vortex.

Amidst this unbridled tempest, a figure stood on high, watching it all. His gaze was like a torch, locked firmly onto the turbulent surface of the sea. His eyes were deep and resolute, as if possessing the power to pierce through the wind and waves, seeing directly into the essence of things and lifting the veil of all hypocrisy and illusion.

The storm intensified. At its center, a figure descended slowly like a monolith, accompanied by an overwhelming pressure: it was Nox, the Lord of the Demon Dragons.

Nox cast a glance downward, and wherever his gaze fell, all vegetation withered. His eyes were like abysses, flickering with a cold and profound light. His massive form, like an immovable mountain, inspired both awe and terror.

Just as Nox was fully focused on the surrounding turmoil, a clear and resolute voice cut through the clamor of the storm. Like an incomparably sharp sword, it struck at his heart. Though the voice was soft, it contained a magical power capable of piercing through all the chaos of the world, arriving precisely at Nox’s ears.

A flicker of surprise crossed Nox’s draconic eyes. He slowly turned his massive body, casting his gaze toward the source of the sound.

Not far away stood a young man clad in battle armor that shimmered with a cold, metallic luster. His hair whipped about in the breeze, yet rather than appearing disheveled, it added to his untamed, heroic bearing. His eyes were firm and profound, as if capable of seeing through all deceit and gazing into the darkest corners of the human heart. He gripped a long sword, its blade flowing with a chilling, lethal light that seemed capable of slicing through anything.

Nox stared at the young man, a surge of intense curiosity and doubt rising within him. "Are you waiting for me?" his low, powerful voice echoed through the storm.

The young man remained silent, only tightening his grip on the hilt. Under the interweaving of night and storm, his eyes shone with an exceptionally firm light, as if he had long since forged a suit of fearless armor deep within his soul, ready to meet any wind, rain, or trial. Watching him quietly, Nox suddenly understood the young man’s intent, and a scorching desire for battle ignited within his own heart.

Nox erupted into a burst of arrogant laughter, his voice carrying unmistakable contempt: "You? A mere insignificant human, presuming to challenge the majesty of a Demon Dragon? I showed you a modicum of respect only because you are a disciple of that old man, Di Xuan. But now, I have transcended the limits of life and death, entering the divine realm. You weak humans are nothing more than ants to me, no longer posing the slightest threat. Even if Di Xuan and the Emperor Yu were here in person, I would have the confidence to fight them, not to mention that I have a powerful patron backing me—one who will surely help me sweep across this continent and achieve supreme hegemony!"

Hearing this, the young man’s eyes widened in anger, his tone filled with indignation: "Are you even worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as the Divine Dragon? In your eyes, we may be humble existences, far beneath the Demon Dragon clan. But do not forget, power is not the only measure of worth. Dignity and courage are equally worthy of respect!"

"Your courage is worthy of respect, but this world is exactly as it is: the weak are the prey of the strong, and the powerful rule. Come, Wang Ping, let me witness the extraordinary physique of you mortals, and see just how high the limits of humanity truly reach!" With a maniacal laugh, Nox spat a giant fireball from his mouth, hurtling it directly toward Wang Ping.

Yet, at this moment, Wang Ping showed no fear. He closed his eyes and whispered, "Ten thousand rivers of autumn, fallen leaves of splendor; one sword breaks the enemy through the ages."

In an instant, a sharp, piercing flash of sword light appeared in the sky, like the most brilliant meteor in the night, cutting through the silence and darkness and pointing straight to the firmament. In Nox’s mind, there remained only one word: "Slay." It rang like thunder, shaking his soul. Where the sword light passed, even space was cleaved in two, revealing a deep, dark fissure that exposed the true face of the void. The power of this strike seemed capable of splitting chaos itself and severing all the shackles of the world.

Nox’s pupils contracted sharply, and a chill rose up his spine. He deeply felt the destructive force contained within that strike. "How is this possible? My dragon breath, cut through so easily!" Not daring to show the slightest negligence, he quickly mobilized all his strength. His massive dragon claws traced a sharp arc in the air, gathering an energy shield that shone with brilliant light, like the most dazzling radiance of dawn, attempting to block this lethal blow.

But... it was all in vain. Wang Ping’s sword could cut through the void, yet it left only a shallow scratch on Nox’s sturdy dragon scales.

Nox looked down at his blood-stained abdomen; pain surged like a tide, instantly drowning every nerve. He looked at Wang Ping in disbelief, his eyes filled with shock and a reassessment of his opponent’s strength. At that moment, he realized that the enemy before him was far from ordinary.

Wang Ping’s figure appeared exceptionally heroic in the storm. The sword in his hand seemed to have merged with heaven and earth, radiating a sharp aura. He walked toward Nox step by step, each footfall landing as if upon Nox’s own heart, filling him with endless fear.

"You... how is it possible..." Nox spoke with difficulty, his voice trembling.

Wang Ping did not answer. He simply raised his sword silently, pointing it at Nox. At that moment, the storm seemed to stand still, with only the cold light on the tip of the blade flickering.

This was the first time in Nox’s life he had feared a mortal. He widened his dragon eyes, his pupils reflecting Wang Ping’s firm and cold face. The tip of Wang Ping’s sword shimmered with a cold light in the storm, as if it could pierce through all illusions.

"This... this is impossible... you are just a mortal!" Nox roared, his massive body trembling in the storm. He struggled to spread his wings, his scales standing up one by one like sharp blades. "You have wounded me, and I am not pleased! I will kill you, and I will slaughter every living soul in this entire city."

Suddenly, Nox let out a heaven-shaking roar toward the sky. Dragon breath like fire and wind like knives swept toward Wang Ping.

Wang Ping was furious, his voice shaking the wilderness: "You dare!"

Before the words had faded, the entire world seemed to tremble in this wrath. Sword qi erupted from Wang Ping’s body, solid as blades, each strand containing unquestionable resolve and overwhelming power. These sword qi clashed violently with the churning dragon breath and the gale in the air, erupting in a deafening boom, as if the heavens were collapsing and the earth splitting.

At the moment of impact, Wang Ping’s sword qi acted like a sharp blade slicing through soft silk, easily tearing apart the surging dragon breath and the gale.

At that moment, scenes from Wang Ping’s childhood flashed through his mind.

Wang Ping, a mortal as ordinary as could be, lived in a humble village on the edge of the vast territory of the Divine Dragon clan—a corner of the world ruthlessly crushed by the wheels of history during years of incessant war.

In these border fields, the traces of war and the sweat of farmers intertwined, sketching a landscape that was both weathered and resilient. The crops were sparse, yet they stubbornly poked their tender green heads through the ashes of gunfire, as if singing a song of life’s defiance against nature.

Because of the death of the Human Emperor Jiu Li, the entire Dragon Kingdom was on the verge of collapse. Escape? Where could one escape to? And those Divine Dragons had their own rules: those who were deities could not interfere in the affairs of the mortal world.

The sunset, like a kind old painter, spread a canvas of intertwined gold and charred black across the fields with soft, slightly melancholy strokes. These colors reflected the light and shadow of the era, unfolding slowly between heaven and earth, telling a story of survival and resistance.

In the air, the bitterness of gunpowder merged quietly with the fragrance of soil, weaving a unique and complex scent—a testament to the subtle coexistence of war and daily life in the same space. In the distance, the occasional sound of artillery was like a sigh from the depths of history, reminding people that even on this seemingly tranquil land, peace remained a luxury that required unceasing pursuit.

Wang Ping’s life unfolded slowly on this land nourished by both war and hope. His story was a microcosm of countless mortals seeking peace and survival in a chaotic world—simple, plain, yet full of strength.

This was a border village in the age of war, a place filled with suffering and hope, despair and resilience. Here, mortals used their own hands and sweat to write a legend of survival and resistance.

Likewise, they had great faith in their own deities, the "Dragon Emperor" and the "Dragon Empress."

The Dragon Emperor and Dragon Empress were primordial deities, gods of the Nine Heavens and Hundred Prefectures, and the ancestors of the Divine Dragon clan. Although the origin of the Divine Dragon clan lay here, the origin of the Demon Dragon clan came entirely from a schism with the Divine Dragon clan.

Because of this, the war between the Divine Dragon clan and the Demon Dragon clan had lasted for ten thousand years. The Divine Dragon clan, with its noble bloodline and powerful strength, had always guarded the peace and tranquility of the continent. However, the Demon Dragon clan, with its cunning and cruel methods, constantly eroded the territory of the Divine Dragon clan.

In this protracted war, although the Divine Dragon clan possessed great power, they gradually fell into a disadvantaged position in the face of the Demon Dragon clan’s cunning tactics and immense military force. The flames of war burned on the border, and the warriors of the Divine Dragon clan fought heroically on the battlefield, but the enemy’s numbers seemed infinite, while their own strength gradually waned.

This unending war was like an endless nightmare. Although the humans of the Divine Dragon clan were exceptionally strong, their advantage was fading under the impact of the Demon Dragon clan’s cunning, versatile tactics and equally formidable force.

On the border, the fires of war were like the breath of a mad dragon, burning incessantly and dyeing the sky crimson. The warriors of the Divine Dragon clan, draped in glory and heartened by faith, stood resolutely on the battlefield, fearless, forging a wall to defend their home with their flesh and blood.

At this historical turning point, Wang Ping’s name shone like a brilliant star, illuminating the sky where armies clashed. Each of his strategic deployments was like a meticulously crafted work of art, containing both a profound understanding of ancient military strategy and a spirit of innovation and breakthrough. The tears of the soldiers were not only tears of victory but also a testament to their deep respect and expectation for this young leader, laying a firm foundation for the 20-year-old Wang Ping’s future "Military Altar Transformation," and because of this transformation, he would become the next Human Emperor after "Human Emperor Di Xuan" five years later.

Recalling that scene, Wang Ping’s combat power surged once again. Nox widened his eyes, staring at this sight in utter disbelief, as if the scene before him had transcended the limits of his cognition. He had never witnessed such soul-shaking mortal power; Wang Ping’s existence overturned all his understanding of power.

Amidst the surging sword qi, Wang Ping’s figure grew even more upright, like a drawn sword pointing straight at the sky, as if to say, "What does not defeat me only makes me stronger."

As Wang Ping’s will surged, the sword qi became even more turbulent, like a materialized raging sea, transforming into storms of incomparably sharp sword qi. Carrying the momentum of a collapsing mountain, they swept toward Nox, covering the sky and earth. Every strand of sword qi condensed Wang Ping’s unyielding determination and immense power. They were not merely blades of attack, but a lament and a vow of vengeance for the innocent lives lost.

"I... am the King of the Demon Dragon clan. I will lead my people to glory. I cannot die... I cannot die..." Nox roared toward the sky, spreading his wings, dodging the sword qi quickly while seeking any opportunity to counterattack.

"I underestimated him. I thought Di Xuan was already difficult enough to deal with, but I did not expect another, even more troublesome Human Emperor to rise after him. As for that powerful expert, he promised to help me, yet now he is nowhere to be found. Could it be that I misjudged him? But on second thought, the power that expert displayed, even in a fleeting glance, was enough to prove he was unfathomable. With just a look, he could make me suffocate and nearly faint. Such ability is definitely not something an ordinary person could possess. Such pressure is undoubtedly divine, but don't the gods refrain from interfering in human affairs? Could it be? Are they not gods, but powerhouses from another dimension?"