The Crucible of Chaos
The cascade of cold water was a baptism. It sluiced away the grime of transformation, the salty proof of his ordeal, leaving his skin tingling and his mind crystalline. Beneath the physical cleansing, Yao Xuan conducted a silent inventory. The changes were not subtle.
With the second layer of blood energy circulation now a solidified, brilliant lattice within him, his vitality had swelled to terrifying new heights. A river of power had become a sea. His raw strength, once around six thousand kilograms, now hummed at the precipice of ten thousand—a near doubling that made the air itself feel more malleable. In pure physical terms, he could now stare down an ordinary low-rank Soul King without flinching.
'A new foundation,' he thought, water dripping from his chin. 'Now, to build upon it.'
Returning to the solitude of the cultivation room, he sat, the calm after the storm. His consciousness dipped into the system's depths, to where a new, potent sigil pulsed—the [Intermediate Ancestral Dragon Body].
"Activate," Yao Xuan breathed, bracing for another wave of agony.
None came.
Instead of fire, it was a flood of radiant, soothing light. A profound, nine-colored warmth blossomed from his core and diffused through every molecule of his being. It was the feeling of a parched land receiving gentle, life-giving rain; of a masterpiece being meticulously retouched by the artist's own hand. He let out an unconscious sigh, his body relaxing into the profound comfort of perfect, harmonious enhancement.
For an hour, he sat in serene silence as the transformation worked. His muscles, bones, and organs thrummed, their very essence refining further towards the ideal of the Ancestral Dragon. His blood, seen with his spiritual sense, now glittered with suspended motes of nine-colored light. Previously narrow or blocked meridians opened like new highways, their walls strengthening, their capacity expanding exponentially. A vast reserve of transformative energy settled deep within his tissues, a promise of continuous, gradual evolution.
Yao Xuan opened his eyes. They glowed for a second with an inner light before settling into their usual focused depth.
He stood, and the world felt different. Lighter. His body was an instrument tuned to a higher, more powerful frequency. His strength now pressed toward fifteen thousand kilograms—a fifty percent leap from just an hour before. The sense of endurance was staggering; he calculated that even fully depleted, his monstrous blood energy could refill itself in under a minute under normal conditions. Defense, speed, regenerative capacity—all had ascended to a new tier.
'A high-rank Soul King in raw physique,' he assessed, a fierce pride tempered by cool analysis. 'Without battle armor, of course.' The reminder of that gap kept his ambition sharp. True power in this world was layered, and he had only begun to climb.
With a thought, he called up the profiles of his two new bloodline abilities.
The first, Left Claw Dragon Transformation, was elegantly straightforward—a mirror to his right. But the synergy was the key. Activating both simultaneously would double the enhancement to his physical attributes, turning his upper limbs into conduits of pure draconic might.
The second made his breath catch.
Chaos. The primal soup from which all elements, all order, sprang. A power that existed before the concepts of 'penetration' or 'tearing' even had meaning.
"Let's test a wisp," he murmured, anticipation thrumming in his veins.
He focused, drawing upon the deep well of his newly expanded blood energy. A staggering ninety percent of his formidable reserves were siphoned away in an instant, leaving a noticeable hollow feeling in his chest. Before him, the air darkened, coalescing.
It was not a flashy shield. It appeared as a patch of deeper shadow, a lens of absolute black about the size of a buckler. It emitted no light, no heat, no sound. It simply was, a tiny tear in reality filled with the quiet that existed before the Big Bang. To look at it was to feel a deep, instinctive unease—the universe's aversion to its own precursor.
Yao Xuan extended a finger, slowly, towards a solid titanium alloy training post. He willed the tiny Chaos shield to intercept.
There was no dramatic collision. The moment the shield's edge touched the post, a circle of the ultra-dense metal simply… ceased. Not melted, not vaporized. It was unmade, erased from existence as if it had never been forged, leaving a perfectly smooth, hemispherical void.
A chill that had nothing to do with temperature ran down Yao Xuan's spine. The defensive application was clear: anything that struck this barrier would share the alloy's fate. The system's assessment felt conservative. This could likely negate far more than a high-rank Soul Emperor's strike; it might render the attack itself null before it could even transfer force.
But the cost… He felt the drain acutely. In a prolonged battle, this was a once-per-fight trump card, if that. 'A final, absolute defense. A guarantee of survival against a single, otherwise fatal blow.' Its value was incalculable, but its use demanded perfect timing.
As his blood energy began its rapid, torrential recovery, Yao Xuan's thoughts, inevitably, turned to her. To Gu Yue. To the silver dragon who would understand the gravity of Chaos power more than anyone. He imagined explaining it to her, seeing the understanding dawn in her eyes—first the analytical appreciation of its strategic utility, then the deeper, Na'er-infused relief that he possessed such a powerful means to protect himself.
A small, genuine smile touched his lips. His growth was not just for his own sake. Every new claw, every wisp of Chaos, was a stronger shelter he could build for their shared future. The second limit was broken. The tools were in his hands. The path forward, though steep, was illuminated by a twin light: the cold fire of the Ancestral Dragon, and the warm, silver glow of a bond that was becoming the cornerstone of his soul.