The Abyss did not breathe.It was as if all the void stood in silence, waiting.
Long Yanshen was kneeling at the center of a circle of golden runes carved by the dragon himself. His eyes burned with the weight of a thousand years of silence, and his soul smoldered like an ember wrapped in ashes.
Before him, Long Zhuan raised his head. His golden scales reflected not light, but destiny itself. His eyes, two auroras buried beneath ages, trembled like suns about to fade.
— The time has come. — The voice reverberated not in the space around them, but in the disciple's blood.— For ten thousand years the world has forgotten my name. Now, it shall remember.
Yanshen lifted his gaze.— The Dragon's Roar…
Long Zhuan slowly nodded.— It is not a technique. Not mere power. It is decree. Where it echoes… the world either bows or shatters.
The Abyss trembled, as if in approval.
The dragon raised a claw. In the void, seven streams appeared — ice, thunder, reflection, shadow, sound, stone, and sun. Each pulsed with the intensity of an entire sect.
— Gather them within the Empty Heart — commanded Long Zhuan. — If you endure, the dragon shall awaken. If you fail… nothing will remain of you.
Yanshen closed his eyes.Serpent Celestial Breath.
First, the ice. The cold cut into his skin, freezing even the memory of warmth.Then, the thunder. The vibration shattered his bones like glass.Came the reflection — and he saw himself a thousand times, each dying in a different way.The shadow wrapped him, smothering his very presence.The sound exploded inside his skull, a symphony tearing through veins.The stone crushed his lungs, turning each breath into boulders.And at last, the sun. The light burned away even the name he once carried.
He fell. His body broke apart in blood and silence.But the flame endured.
In the next instant…
Behind Yanshen, a spiritual dragon of azure rose.Immense. Infinite. Forged of will and absence.Its eyes did not shine — they burned.And when it opened its mouth, the Abyss itself recoiled.
Long Zhuan roared in approval.— Now, let it fly!
The spiritual dragon surged forward, and Yanshen felt his own body rise with it, as though invisible wings had grown from his back.In a breath, he was no longer man.He was voice. He was fury. He was flight.
He cut through the void like living lightning, tracing circles across the dead sky of the Abyss. Each beat of the dragon's wings shook the black walls, and each roar escaping his throat made ancient chains tremble.
Yanshen opened his mouth — and the first roar echoed.It was not yet the Roar that Ends Worlds, but a spark of it.The sound tore through the Abyss like an invisible blade, cracking stone pillars untouched even by time.
The spiritual dragon roared, and Yanshen roared with it.One.Until the mortal body almost broke apart again, unable to contain such force.
Long Zhuan cut the training short with a single gesture, his grave voice echoing:— Enough. Continue now, and the Roar will destroy your body before it is truly yours.
Yanshen collapsed to his knees, gasping, but a new fire blazed in his eyes.He had flown.He had roared.For the first time, he had tasted the impossible.
Long Zhuan studied him.— This is not you. Not your transformation. It is the echo of my lineage awakening within you. The spiritual dragon is voice. It is memory. It is what the heavens tried to erase.
Yanshen felt his veins aflame. His body was breaking.— Master… I cannot…
The dragon closed his eyes.— Not yet.
And then, he sighed.A sigh that seemed to have waited ten thousand years.
— Yanshen… my body will not last much longer. — The voice trembled, not with weakness, but with farewell. — I was betrayed. I was forgotten. But I will not die in vain.
He rose, expanding until he filled the entire horizon. Cracked scales gleamed like the final embers of a forge.
— Take my flame. Take my name. Take my sword.
At the center of the Abyss, golden chains broke apart. A black blade emerged, shrouded in silence — the Sword of Celestial Silence (天寂剑). It was as if it had been forged from absence itself, too cold to reflect any light.
It floated before Yanshen.
— This sword was born from my heart, tempered in eras of sealing. Now… it is yours.
The young man stretched out his hand. At his touch, the blade groaned — not like steel, but like thunder shackled for millennia.
Long Zhuan opened his mouth.And the Abyss trembled.
The sound that followed was not sound.It was the decree of Creation.The Dragon's Roar that Ends Worlds (灭世龙吟).
The walls of the Abyss shattered into fragments of law. Ancient chains splintered like glass. Slumbering creatures fled into their own shadows.
Yanshen collapsed to his knees. The spiritual dragon behind him roared in unison, and his soul ignited to the edge of what was bearable.
— Master! — he cried, blood streaming from eyes, ears, and mouth.
But Long Zhuan only smiled.— I have fulfilled my part. Now… the world is yours.
And then, his colossal body dissolved into golden flames, plunging into the black sword.
The Abyss split apart.Rifts tore open up to the unseen sky.A golden and blue radiance exploded.
Long Yanshen was hurled out of the void, the sacred sword upon his back and the roar still echoing in his soul.
Behind him, the Abyss collapsed. The last of the Dragon Gods was gone.
But his voice lingered still:— Be flame. Be silence. Be the dragon the Heavens rejected.
Outside, the Seven Sects shuddered.Mountains quaked. Skies cracked. Rivers rose against gravity.
Patriarchs stirred from their meditations.— "What… is that roar?" — murmured Han Xueqin of the Frozen Lotus, feeling even her sect's own ice falter.— "Impossible…" — whispered Lei Wuchang, as thunder split the sky above his head.
Others fell silent. Some trembled. Others smiled. But all knew:The dragon's heir had returned.
Long Yanshen stood upon a forgotten plain.The black sword weighed on his back as if it were destiny itself.Silence wrapped him.
And in his heart, his master's words still burned:— What is forgotten… always returns.