“Wu Zhao, if the dragon soul merges with the dragon body, everyone here will die, including Hua Hong! She’s the Mei consort’s only daughter! The Yiren King is already dead. What grudge can’t you let go?”
Wu Zhao’s figure wavered above the blood pool, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but it was soon replaced by a consuming hatred.
“It’s not enough—one life is not enough!” he shouted, hurling the inner core into the blood pool, greedily absorbing the Yiren spirits. The small golden dragon within grew rapidly, its body darkening into black.
Covered in dark energy, Fan Yue’s forehead was stained with blood as he knelt, his spirit assailed by the power of the dragon soul.
“Mumu!”
“A-Shuo! The dragon’s aura is too strong. You can’t reach him!” Bai Shuo attempted to rush toward Fan Yue, but Chong Zhao held her back.
“It’s useless. Wu Zhao’s mind is controlled by the demonic spirit’s hatred,” Chong Zhao said grimly. “We must prevent the dragon soul and body from merging. If the golden dragon falls under the demonic influence, the entire wilderness will be destroyed!”
“Destroy the inner core! Killing the dragon within will disperse the dragon soul!” Bai Shuo yelled, her gaze fixed on the blackened dragon in the blood pool.
When Twilight left the Bound Spirit Array to protect the Yiren, he split the dragon scales in two, likely foreseeing the day someone might try to misuse the divine formation.
Above the blood pool, Wu Zhao, eyes hollow, waved his hand. The Yiren King’s sword shot up, splitting into four and forming a protective barrier around the dragon’s body.
“Kunlun sword cultivators, disciples of Misty Peak, attack!”
Fearing for his life, Mu Jiu was the first to act, flinging his small Oblivion Wheel and leading the charge. Chong Zhao and the others joined, coordinating their assault from three directions toward Wu Zhao.
Wu Zhao’s eyes glinted darkly, and with a single strike, he sent all three flying. Hua Hong leapt up, swinging her iron staff to catch them.
It was a rare sight to see the usually noisy fox fighting so fiercely. In mid-air, Hua Hong even supported Mu Jiu for a moment, pressing a burst of spiritual energy into his chest. Dazed and with his blood surging from the blow, Mu Jiu felt a sudden warmth in his spirit platform. He turned, meeting a pair of cold eyes. He froze, barely able to mumble a word of thanks before Hua Hong had already leapt up, swinging her iron staff down on Wu Zhao in the blood pool.
This time, Hua Hong held nothing back.
As the iron staff clashed with Wu Zhao’s long blade, it ignited into blazing flames, a fire so powerful it could burn mountains and melt seas. The entire stone hall shook.
Wu Zhao’s blade was instantly cleaved in two by the flames, and the iron staff struck directly into his chest, sending him flying and pinning him against a stone pillar.
Mu Jiu stared in awe at Hua Hong, who looked like a vengeful deity.
My goodness, he thought, Wu Zhao was an Upper Lord, yet this Yiren princess… just how powerful is she?!
Only now did they realize that, even in the face of life and death, Hua Hong had never truly used her full strength.
“The Heaven-Blazing Staff… you’re the Fire Demon Lord,” Chong Zhao said, looking at Hua Hong with awe. The Fire Demon of Hao Yue Hall, a being of immense power whose name had terrorized the three realms for centuries.
“Fire Demon? The one who can decimate thousands with a single strike, the top demon lord?” Mu Jiu swallowed nervously. The peak of demon power, a single lethal strike—truly terrifying!
Hua Hong, seemingly unfazed, simply gazed at the dying Wu Zhao against the pillar, a hidden sorrow deep within her eyes. She had just killed the last of the Mei family.
Against the pillar, Wu Zhao, barely clinging to life, smiled kindly at Hua Hong, the frenzy in his gaze momentarily replaced by a faint clarity. Reaching out a trembling hand, he whispered, “Your Highness… don’t cry, I… I…”
But he never finished his words. The last light in his eyes faded, and his hand fell limp as he closed his eyes for the final time. No one knew what he wanted to say to Hua Hong. Perhaps he didn’t need to say it—she already understood. He did all of this, even unto death, without regret.
“Quick, Iron Smith! Destroy that inner core!” Bai Shuo shouted, her concern for Fan Yue making her impatient.
Hua Hong snapped out of her daze and flew toward the blood pool. As her staff moved to strike the inner core, a dragon’s roar sounded. The massive dragon soul surged into the hall, lashing its tail at her. The Heaven-Blazing Staff and the dragon soul clashed; its massive maw opened, and it snapped the staff in two before the dragon soul swept toward Hua Hong with its tail.
Even as the strongest of demon lords, she was still only a celestial being—how could she withstand the might of a dragon god? Her pupils shrank as the dragon’s tail closed in, only for a streak of faint demon energy to block the blow. A fiery red tail flashed out, swiftly coiling around her waist, pulling her back to the ground.
She turned to see Mu Jiu’s Separated Oblivion Wheel shattered in half in midair. Before she could fully process it, she heard his teasing voice nearby. “Fire Demon Lord, we’re even now.”
Hua Hong turned to see the fox grinning cheekily, his mischievous tail brushing against her hand. A shiver ran down her spine, and she clenched her fist, ready to land a punch on the silly fox. But just then, Bai Shuo’s shout broke through.
“This is bad—the dragon soul has fused with the dragon body!”
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