Jing Qian and Ao Run stood side by side, hidden by the Bridge of Reincarnation, gazing at the towering dragon palace before them. For a moment, even they were struck silent by its majesty.
Jing Qian finally spoke:
"So this is the sword aura you mentioned?"
Before them, the powerful second-grade Vast Sea Dragon Palace spirit construct bore a massive diagonal scar, a single sword mark cleaving nearly through its core, almost splitting the palace in half.
From within that scar emanated an unimaginably fierce sword aura, terrifying and untouchable, radiating a sense of endless slaughter.
Ao Run nodded.
"That's right. Nine hundred years ago, my grandfather Ren Chong struck a world-shaking sword from beyond the heavens, killing the second-grade Dragon God in one blow.
The aftershock of that sword fell upon the Vast Sea Dragon Palace, gravely injuring this spirit construct and leaving behind a sword aura that has never dissipated.
For nine centuries, my brothers have tried every possible means to erode or suppress that remnant aura, but none have succeeded."
She paused, her eyes reflecting the glow of the deep sea.
"Because of that sword mark, no dragon heir has ever been able to subdue the Dragon Palace. What used to be a century-long contest for succession has dragged on for nine hundred years without resolution.
In truth, the Vast Sea Dragon Palace has long been tormented to its limit.
Whichever dragon heir can dispel the curse of this sword aura will suppress the Dragon Palace and win the inheritance.
But my grandfather's sword no one dares touch."
Jing Qian fully opened his Three-Life Eye, carefully studying the devastating sword aura left by his senior ancestor.
The strongest sword strike he had ever witnessed before this was his master Shangxi's Fundamental Sword Qi, unleashed atop the Grinding Sword Cliff, an attack forged through three thousand years of tempering and the slaying of a second-grade great demon.
Yet even that terrifying sword, when doubled by the Grinding Cliff's resonance, merely approached the power of this single afterimage of Ren Chong's blade.
By his estimation, if that sword aura had been directed at any of the Ancient Demon Sea Saints, it would have annihilated them outright; whoever it struck, died.
Jing Qian turned to Ao Run.
"You said you can draw out this sword aura?"
Ao Run nodded with determination.
"Yes. That sword was unleashed to save my mother. I carry the direct bloodline of my grandfather Ren Chong, and through that connection, I can awaken and guide the sword's power from the palace.
Once I channel it and direct it elsewhere, I can invoke its lingering grace to suppress the Vast Sea Dragon Palace, securing victory in the inheritance struggle.
Then the entire Vast Sea will be under my command!"
Her eyes gleamed coldly.
"But my brothers have guarded this place for centuries, never allowing me near the Dragon Palace.
It's only thanks to your help, Daoist, that I've finally been able to stand here and behold my ancestor's sword aura."
A fierce gleam flickered in Ao Run's eyes.
Just standing before the Dragon Palace had already cost her dearly, but such was the price one had to pay to set foot upon the path of a top cultivator.
"Once I draw away this sword aura," she said solemnly, "I'll need only one day to subdue the Vast Sea Dragon Palace. But during that time, my safety will depend entirely on you, Daoist.
My brothers and their forces will surely come at me with everything they have."
Jing Qian felt not the slightest fear; if anything, he looked almost eager.
Guarding a goddess while fending off a horde of sea monsters? That sounded entertaining. His only concern was that the monsters might not come fast enough.
All his attention had already shifted to the massive sword scar before him, the lingering mark of his ancestral patriarch's might.
This was a treasure born of his sect's divine grace. To waste it would be nothing short of sacrilege.
His Three-Life Reincarnation Eye spun wildly, deducing every possible method to harness the residual sword power.
First, his divine sight turned toward the Sea of Resentful Souls, where the Ghost Emperor of Wuchang resided.
Dark clouds churned, and sinister mists coiled. The Ghost Emperor suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, the hairs on his neck rising. A faint sense of mortal danger flashed through his instincts.
He frowned deeply and began divination after divination, trying to see who was plotting against him.
Then Jing Qian lifted his gaze toward the Zhuo Ling Grotto-Heaven, where an old fisherman played with his catch, a delicate mermaid.
The old man abruptly felt his lower back seize and his knees go weak. Alarmed, he too began frantically calculating omens, convinced a powerful foe was about to strike.
Jing Qian shook his head. "Not him," he thought. That lecherous old man wasn't worth the trouble.
His divine eye then turned toward the depths of the Vast Sea to that shadowed abyss his sight could not penetrate.
That must be where the ancient Kunpeng dwelled.
If he could lure Ren Chong's sword aura there, to strike a blow at that old beast… he might reap an even greater reward.
But after some thought, he retracted his gaze and said evenly:
"I've already taken your sword and your grotto. Rest assured, I'll give my all to help you subdue this spirit seizer."
"Prepare yourself to summon the sword aura. I'll return shortly."
With that, Jing Qian drew his Immortal Sword Embryo, the blade roaring like a dragon, and vanished into motion.
The cunning assassin streaked into the Dragon Palace. Along his path, waves of shrimp soldiers and crab generals, dozens of them, all at least sixth-rank Spirit Anchors, rushed to block his way.
He showed them no mercy. The Invisible Sword Qi, fused with the power of the Yin Sword, cut through all that lived; none survived.
Every slain creature's body was instantly swept into the Void Realm, where the black cat Xi Li would dismantle and sell the remains.
The ship's kitchen soon received a fresh shipment of premium seafood.
Jing Qian's Three-Life Eye shone like molten gold as he scanned the entire Dragon Palace, locking onto Ao Zhen's remaining troops.
He was clearing the battlefield, removing every potential distraction before the real fight began.
The lesser sea monsters were nothing more than bulk stock at a fish market, not even worth his notice.
His focus was fixed on two much stronger creatures: a Clearwater Prawn and an Azure Shell Crab, both of Star-Seizer rank.
Those, to Jing Qian, were true delicacies, high-grade ingredients worthy of a master chef.
Just imagining what Luo Tian could make of them had him practically drooling.
Unable to resist, he blinked through space and unleashed his full strength upon the two great demons.
Under the might of the Immortal Sword Embryo and Yin Sword, the two Star-Seizer sea beasts fared no better than lobsters and crabs beneath a kitchen cleaver.
A flick, a slice, prawn veins drawn, crab shells flipped.
The pair contributed three hundred years of life essence before vanishing into the void.
...
Far away, on the deserted island where Luo Tian was patiently simmering turtle soup, a pair of thunderous booms nearly scared the soul out of him.
But when he poked his head up and saw two massive, pristine sea beasts lying before him, his terror vanished, replaced by sheer delight.
Eyes gleaming, he rolled up his sleeves.
"Now this, this deserves my best work."
The chef was ready to show his true culinary brilliance.
...
Jing Qian cleared away the last of the obstacles and returned to Ao Run's side.
At that moment, the dragon girl stood before the Vast Sea Dragon Palace, her eyes closed, quietly attuning herself to the terrifying sword aura buried deep within it.
Even the slightest touch sent waves of killing intent surging through her senses, cold and sharp as tempered steel, making her heart pound and her courage nearly shatter.
Beside her, Jing Qian was channeling his Sumeru power, tearing open a dimensional rift in space and steadily forcing it wider and wider.
Only when the rift's mouth stretched to nearly a mile across did he stop and speak calmly:
"Ao Daoist, the time has come. Begin."
With that, he turned and stepped into the Sumeru Dimension.
Ao Run did not hesitate. She drew upon her ancestral bloodline and fully awakened Ren Chong's Sword Qi.
That single strand of sword energy, without doubt the most devastating offensive force in the entire Ying Futuo Realm, burst from its slumber.
It ripped through the heavens and immediately surged into the spatial rift, slashing straight into the Sumeru Dimension where Jing Qian awaited.
Inside that boundless void, Jing Qian witnessed the blade's descent with his own eyes.
Just being near it made every spark of life within him scream in terror. He could feel his very existence on the verge of annihilation.
But his eyes shone with excitement, his focus absolute.
The instant that cataclysmic sword energy entered his realm, Jing Qian unleashed the full might of his divine authority as the Lord of Myriad Phenomena, Master of Sumeru.
The dimensional space around him twisted and warped under his control, bending in on itself, folding in impossible directions until it formed a complete Möbius Loop.
And within that impossible ring, the sword energy was caught circling endlessly, slashing without cease, locked in a perfect loop of infinite motion.
By twisting space into a self-contained continuum, Jing Qian had forged the perfect cage for Ren Chong's Sword Qi.
Within that loop lay an absolute vacuum utterly pure, untouched by matter or time.
There was nothing to dull the sword's edge, nothing to drain its power.
It kept cutting. Again. And again. And again.
With every eternal rotation, the sword's sharpness only grew, refining itself into something far more terrifying than before.
Jing Qian gazed upon his creation, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
He named it the Sword Ring.
From this day forward, he possessed a true ultimate trump card, one so lethal it could annihilate even a second-grade existence with a single release.
When torn open, the Sword Ring would unleash the fury of Ren Chong's immortal sword in full.
The mere thought filled him with wild ambition, a deep, uncontrollable urge to test it out on something big.
But he forced himself to calm down. There was still a dragon maiden waiting outside, relying on his protection.
Those little sea wyrms weren't worthy of his Sword Ring.
With a flash, Jing Qian returned to the material world.
By now, the upheaval of the Vast Sea Dragon Palace had already reached the ears of the twelve dragon heirs thousands of miles away.
Jing Qian could see them clearly through his Three-Life Eye, streaking toward him like twelve bolts of lightning.
A fierce grin spread across his face. A grand, exhilarating battle was coming, and he was more than ready.
...
Above the surging sea, the twelve dragon heirs, having realized they'd been tricked when Ao Run drew upon Ren Chong's sword aura, turned as one and rushed back toward the Dragon Palace.
Yet the once unified formation splintered apart.
Each dragon subtly distanced itself from the others, a thin veil of mutual suspicion forming between them.
For when the sword aura upon the Dragon Palace vanished, the true Succession Battle had officially begun.
Ao Run might have been the first to act and start subduing the Dragon Palace's spirit construct, but her strength was far too meager to hold it for long.
The other dragon princes saw their first real chance at victory in centuries, and greed flared in every heart.
Among them, Ao Zhen was the most desperate. He, who possessed the highest cultivation and the finest treasures, had always been the front-runner.
And precisely because of that, he could not stomach defeat.
The third-rank dragon prince unleashed all his Immortal Spiritual Qi, his draconic light streaking across the waves like a storm, far outpacing the others.
But just as he neared the palace
A phoenix's cry split the heavens!
From above descended a colossal, shadow-black Ghost Phoenix, trailing inky flames as it dove.
Perched proudly atop its head was a tiny green corn sprout, fluttering in the wind with boundless fighting spirit.
At the worst possible moment, a third-rank dragon prince had been ambushed and intercepted by a third-rank phoenix!
The two clashed midair, plunging into a fierce, chaotic battle that shook the sea and sky alike.
...
On the other side of the battlefield, the other third-rank Heaven-Mending Dragon, Ao Hua, had also fallen neatly into someone's trap.
Amidst the sharp cries of phoenixes and cranes, three divine avians descended from the clouds: the elder, middle, and younger generations of the Feathered Transformation Sect: the Five-Element Sky Phoenix, the Heavenly Crane, and the Divine Roc.
All three had arrived together, and with their combined might, they forcibly pinned Ao Hua in place.
Then the Five-Element Sky Phoenix, whose voice rang like chimes of gold and jade, laughed softly and said:
"Mingji, I'll use this dragon heir right here to help you reforge the Subjugated Dragon Spirit Construct."
From somewhere behind, a calm voice replied,
"Many thanks, Feng Lord. Your disciple is deeply grateful!"
...
Elsewhere, three brothers, Ao Yuan, Ao Jin, and Ao Ping, though only of the Star-Plucking Realm, were triplets born of the same mother and famed for their unity.
Together, they formed one of the stronger factions among the Vast Sea's dragon kin.
Charging toward the Vast Sea Dragon Palace, the trio intended to join forces and challenge their two third-rank elder brothers head-on.
But just as they neared their target, three sounds, a gong, a bell, and a chime resounded through the sky, so vivid they seemed almost tangible.
The first was a thunderous clang of a spirit gong, shaking the heavens with a shockwave that rattled the soul.
An old man appeared, wielding a golden-and-jade gong whose echoes rippled across the sea.
The second was a deep, resonant boooom of a bronze temple bell, its sound as solemn as mountains beneath dusk, cleansing the heart of all distraction.
A burly man emerged, bearing the massive bronze bell upon his shoulder.
The third was a crystalline ting-ling of a divine chime, delicate and pure, like dew drops falling upon jade.
A graceful musician appeared, a woman holding a violet-jade bell, her eyes serene yet bright.
Together, the three stood in a perfect triangle encircling the dragon brothers at the center.
They were the three greatest Star-Plucking sound masters of the realm, the senior-most experts of the Lingluo Palace, whose sonic arts could shake both body and spirit alike.
...
Meanwhile, Ao Lin, a massive emerald-green dragon of the Yi Wood attribute, was perhaps the laziest of them all.
Peaceful by nature and uninterested in the succession struggle, his greatest joy lay in idly tormenting human captives on the "Man-Farm Islands."
When word reached him that the Vast Sea Dragon Palace had been unsealed, he barely paid attention, already turning back toward his den.
But then a glowing stalk of green bamboo suddenly sprouted before him, floating on the sea's surface.
Somehow, the dragon found the bamboo's scent impossibly alluring, so fragrant it made his mouth water.
Without hesitation, Ao Lin manifested his full draconic form and lunged to take a bite.
That single act sealed his fate.
In the next instant, he was ensnared within a trap laid by the Cihang Nunnery, his consciousness drawn into their web of illusion and compassion.
...
As for Ao Fang, he had sharper instincts than most.
Sensing that something was terribly wrong, he turned tail almost immediately and fled in the opposite direction from the Dragon Palace.
The succession meant nothing to him if it came at the cost of his own life.
But as he flew farther and farther, something strange began to happen: his speed slowed, his body feeling heavier by the moment.
What he could not see was that countless threads of karma had silently wrapped around him, binding him tighter with each passing second.
Hovering unseen above him was Princess Ping'an, the newly ascended master of the Great Wood Grotto-Heaven, and the Seventeenth Dharma Protector of the Jambu Path.
Thus, of the twelve dragon heirs, seven were intercepted and restrained by four separate forces.
Needless to say, this was all Jing Qian's doing.
When he chose to bear the karmic burden of confronting the Vast Sea Dragon Clan as the Pure Yang Son, these four allied factions eagerly answered his unspoken call
To them, these captured dragons weren't burdens or opponents.
They were gifts, generous tributes from the Daoist prodigy himself.
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