Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 59: The True Dragon

"The calamity of ten thousand years approaches; chaos will sweep across the land, and conflict shall arise once more among the heavens and myriad worlds. Yet, as the saying goes, heroes are forged by the times. Amidst this tempest, when the skies overturn and the earth quakes, as heroes vie for supremacy, this is indeed the hour for valor to shine!"

Tian Xingzi stood atop a mountain just outside Fucheng, gazing quietly at the spectacle unfolding in the heavens above. It was as if his eyes could pierce all barriers, witnessing everything that transpired above. Gradually, the people across the continent sensed something extraordinary.

"The Divination of Command: perilous yet smooth," Tian Xingzi murmured, opening his palm and divining. This hexagram, in the Book of Changes, signifies a general receiving orders to march forth, riding a fierce steed with a taut bow, striking targets with precision, and his arrows bringing prosperity. The lower trigram is Water, signifying danger; the upper is Earth, signifying compliance. War is ominous, a last resort for sages, but it resolves conflict smoothly and unobstructed, for it follows the tide of events and bears a rightful cause, turning peril into fortune.

"So it is Wang Chuan. How could one such as he have cause for worry? I am but observing for curiosity's sake." Tian Xingzi withdrew his hand in time; to peer further into fate would exact too great a price. He stood with hands behind his back, as if all was already clear to him.

Suddenly, he turned toward the horizon. "What else is about to emerge? Is another upheaval imminent?"

That night, many watched the marvels in the sky, as streaks of spiritual radiance descended, threatening to crash upon the earth. Space spun madly like a wheel. In that instant, everything transformed into countless colored threads, swirling and shining in the sky, making viewers dizzy, nauseated.

The whirling lights enveloped the heavens like a starry dome. At the summit, a vast ring-shaped opening loomed, bottomless and unfathomable. For reasons unknown, gazing upon that abyss evoked an irresistible urge to leap into it—a peculiar force drew people near.

The longer one watched, the more it felt as if the void would drag them upward, a tremendous force pulling, growing ever stronger and sustained. The sensation of speed intensified, with the sky drawing closer, until the rushing wind slashed faces like knives.

Suddenly, with a jolt, they found themselves still rooted where they stood. It was too mysterious; how could such a feeling arise? The violent spatial turbulence seemed to pierce all realms, leaving even grandmasters uneasy.

No one knew what transpired within, but the waves of spatial force spilled outward. Soon, martial artists were seen plummeting, fleeing that world. What had happened? That man called Wang Chuan—he was contending head-on with a demon god?

He had reached such heights, so formidable and resolute. As they watched, they saw him face two, then even three foes at once. Above the grandmaster realm, many possessed various means, and it felt as if they were present, experiencing the battle firsthand.

Such proximity made the power and shock all the more palpable. That strength truly could not exist in this world—so mighty.

Tian Xingzi waited a while longer, finally witnessing something about to descend. He stared wide-eyed, incredulous. That night, all across the Divine Land, none could forget the scene.

The sky seemed to whirl, light and shadows interweaving ceaselessly. Something was emerging, breaking through the heavens. The ancient site of the demon god had vanished, and a few people seemed to disappear with it, fleeing into the void.

All martial artists felt an invisible pressure, an oppressive force. It was as if the vault of heaven itself pressed down upon them—but it did not. Within their bodies, blood and qi surged, far more potent than at any previous peak.

What was happening? Why this change? What were they about to face?

This aura was unparalleled; even before its arrival, none could withstand it directly. Suddenly, waves of sound seemed to echo from the sky—a deep, commanding voice, lofty and oppressive.

For reasons unknown, the air grew more stagnant, space more suffocating. It was as if invisible, soft barriers shrank ever tighter, encasing everyone in unbearable pressure, on the verge of collapse.

"What is that?"

The demon saints and demon gods, lingering in the void, saw it too—something was about to appear, and it was coming for them.

They felt a despair they had never known, even when confronting Wang Chuan, even when facing an unbeatable prodigy like him. Not such complex emotions.

Only in the past, when they stood at the mortal realm before the divine, had they felt this despair. The incoming presence was vastly superior—this was the only explanation.

It could not be denied: among the myriad realms, countless existences surpassed them. For instance, Wang Chuan, so monstrous, merely in the mortal realm yet an unpredictable variable, impossible to measure by ordinary standards.

But this time, the newcomer was a being whose level far exceeded theirs. To merely sense the distant authority of its aura was unimaginable—one could only wish to submit.

There was no need for words or embellishment. It was as if something entered the scene, like ripples on a tranquil lake.

Tian Xingzi was the first to see it, having waited so long: a powerful aura burst forth. Heaven and earth resonated; water vapor seemed to evaporate, all things responded.

"What is that?" All martial artists watched, clearly seeing it.

Like the sun rising above the horizon, dazzling. Yet it was not the sun, but surpassed sun and moon alike.

Majestic, overwhelming.

Invisible vital energy soared skyward, billowing up as if lifting something, yet perfectly natural.

A humming sound echoed—the martial artists felt the grandeur resounding through the clouds, traversing all worlds.

"Divine clan?"

The demon saints and demon gods exchanged glances, arriving at the same conclusion.

The most powerful races—the demon and fiend clans—were already present. What else could there be?

Only the legendary divine clan, so lofty and unrivaled.

Thinking back, Wang Chuan seemed most similar, though he bore none of this aura.

At the moment the newcomers arrived, they felt the nobility and arrogance, the overwhelming power, the presence that had ruled for eternity.

Only the divine clan could inspire such worship.

"This is the divine clan," Xu Sheng mused, deeply interested.

But why appear only now, and why come for them?

Xu Sheng did not think they came for him personally. Among the three present—the demon god, demon saint, and himself—whose fading avatar would they seek?

Yet, precisely at that moment, the divine clan arrived—so unexpectedly.

A voice rang out, ethereal and drifting, revolving through the nine heavens and wandering the ten realms.

It was like silent, gentle rain, flowing instantly into every heart.

"Above, the Jade Capital—twelve towers, five cities. Immortals touch my brow, binding my hair for eternal life."

This poem flowed into every soul, descending from the sky, rising from the earth, swirling and echoing between heaven and earth.

For a time, most people gazed toward the vanished site of the demon god’s ancient dwelling.

This poem, so closely entwined, belonged to that man, that legend—Wang Chuan.

Along with the poem came tales about him:

Wang Chuan, the reincarnation of a sage...

Wang Chuan, enlightened by a sage, awakening past memories in a flash...

Wang Chuan, revived by a sage, brought back from death...

And so many more stories, witnessed firsthand by countless people.

This man’s poetry was unmatched, as if divinely inspired—every verse a masterpiece!

His martial prowess reached the heavens, invincible even among gods; today, he faced three opponents at once!

Beside him was an old servant, now restored to youth.

Now, the divine clan had appeared, reciting this poem—what did it mean?

Could they be connected to these legends?

It was impossible not to wonder.

The newcomers now revealed themselves—radiant as the sun, their presence so overwhelming none could gaze directly.

"A true dragon drawing the palace?"

Some grandmasters saw clearly, their voices shocked, but not disrespectful—instead, cautious and reverent.

A true dragon drawing the palace?

Amidst the colossal commotion, at the forefront was a divine dragon, its majesty cold and domineering, contemptuous of all, surveying mortals from above.

Yet it wore chains, dragging the palace behind.

Walking upon the heavens, soaring through the sky.

Passing over the Divine Land, sweeping above.

The blazing light slowly receded, finally allowing all to see the astonishing scene clearly.

In the countryside, countless knelt in reverence, murmuring prayers.

The true dragon was so awe-inspiring, cold and untamed, impossible to look upon directly.

Behind it, the vast palace was drawn, towering and magnificent, grand beyond measure.

That immense power and aura, like the blazing sun, could only be viewed from afar, not approached.

Even grandmasters saw, in that moment, how vast the gap remained—just a single step, yet an uncrossable chasm!

This true dragon drawing the palace emerged from the skies, as if stepping out of everyone’s world, a spectacle to witness once in a lifetime.

Yet soon it passed, like a wandering traveler, destined never to linger.

One step to the divine, one to the mortal—a divide most could never bridge.

Only the boundless vital energy remained, resonating like mighty rivers within.

As the poem fell like a gentle rain, everyone felt a subtle spiritual energy wash through their bodies, cleansing meridians and vital force.

The true dragon drawing the palace soared away, arriving at the site of the former demon god’s dwelling.

It halted there.

At that place, a battle had just shaken heaven and earth—a spectacle unmatched for many years.

Now, all was emptiness, silent as death.

The demon gods and demon saints lingered, remaining to witness the divine clan’s arrival.

Xu Sheng’s true form was also present—though this realm could not traverse the void, he maintained his presence at great cost.

They waited quietly.

No grand display, though only a single divine dragon, dragging a palace, had come.

There was no help for it—the divine clan was like the sun in the sky, radiant and blinding.

No matter how low-key, their arrival drew the gaze of all realms.

Now, even the demon and fiend clans had experienced it.

The divine realm—the so-called realm named for divinity.

Now the true gods themselves appeared, high and supreme.

On that grand palace, it seemed a gaze fell.

Somewhere, something stirred to life.

Xu Sheng sneered, "Wang Chuan, truly remarkable! Extraordinary indeed!"