A trace of reluctance for her clansmen flashed in Yuanfeng's phoenix eyes. She seemed to see Feng Xi's innocent face, and the scene of Phoenix Clan juniors playing in the parasol forest.
Back then, the parasol forest was lush and green. Golden sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Young phoenixes fluttered their tender wings, chasing and frolicking. Elders sat under the parasol trees, teaching Daoist principles. Everything was peaceful and harmonious. But these warm scenes gradually blurred and faded under the impact of the battle between the two, eventually vanishing into nothingness.
In the Ancestral Dragon's dragon pupils, beyond anger, a strange emotion also flickered.
Regret? Perhaps the Ancestral Dragon regretted it—regretted rashly provoking this dragon-phoenix war in his quest for Primordial hegemony; regretted listening to Ao Lie's instigation, imprisoning Yuanfeng with the Water Spirit Lock for three hundred years, and escalating the conflict between the two clans; regretted being blinded by hatred and hegemony, making the dragon clan pay such a heavy price.
But at this moment, all regret was too late. The power of the origin collision could not be reversed. He could only let his body disintegrate bit by bit in the white light.
Or perhaps, with Yuanfeng's pride and the Ancestral Dragon's dominance, they would never regret it.
Outside the white light, Feng Qi and the surviving Phoenix Clan juniors hovered in mid-air, staring fixedly at the devouring white light, their hearts in their throats.
When they first saw Yuanfeng burn her origin to launch a desperate final strike, a trace of tragic hope surged in Feng Qi's heart. He prayed that the clan leader would avenge their fallen clansmen.
But as the white light continued to spread, the destructive aura grew stronger and stronger, and his hope was gradually replaced by fear.
"Clan Leader... will she be okay?" A young Phoenix Clan junior with a broken wing clung tightly to his companion's feathers with his remaining claw, his voice trembling uncontrollably.
Blood still oozed from his chest, and every breath tugged at his wound with excruciating pain. But he dared not look away, his gaze fixed on the center of the white light—as if this could keep the clan leader's figure intact.
In his heart, Yuanfeng was an omnipotent existence, the backbone of the Phoenix Clan. But at this moment, the power that could even tear the void made him doubt "omnipotence" for the first time.
The young Phoenix Clan junior beside him was already trembling with fear, his small body huddled into a ball, his hands covering his eyes tightly—yet he couldn't help but peek through his fingers.
His parents had been killed by the dragon clan in the previous battle. Yuanfeng was his only spiritual sustenance. What he feared most at this moment was losing even this last bit of hope. Tears slid down his fingers, dropping into the steaming hot air below, instantly evaporating into a wisp of white smoke—like his precarious hope.
On the other side, the surviving dragon clan soldiers fared no better.
They huddled on a huge fragment of seabed rock, which was scorched hot by the aftershocks of the white light. But not a single one dared to move an inch. A young dragon clan soldier gripped his broken dragon spear tightly, his knuckles white with tension, his dragon pupils filled with panic and unease.
When he first saw the Ancestral Dragon transform into his ten-thousand-zhang true form, his heart was filled with awe and confidence. He thought with the Ancestral Dragon here, Yuanfeng would be no match for him—he even began to imagine the rewards he would get after the war.
But when he saw the terrifying white light from the collision between Yuanfeng's Nirvana Fire and the Ancestral Dragon's golden-crimson dragon energy, when he saw even the void twisting and collapsing, his confidence crumbled completely.
"Lord Ancestral Dragon... will he win?" He asked himself repeatedly in his heart, but got no answer—only bone-deep fear spreading endlessly.
An elderly dragon clan general struggled to stand straight, trying to stabilize the army's morale with his own aura.
His left arm had been burned by flames, his scales falling off to reveal mangled flesh beneath. But he still stared fixedly at the white light, shouting hoarsely. "Lord Ancestral Dragon is the first divine dragon of the Primordial World! The mere Yuanfeng is nothing to fear! When the white light fades, it will be Yuanfeng's head that falls!"
But his voice trembled slightly, and he couldn't even fully convince himself.
He knew clearly that such terrifying white light could only be triggered by both sides unleashing their origin power. A duel of this level was unpredictable—even likely to result in mutual destruction.
The thought sank his heart to the bottom. If something happened to the Ancestral Dragon, and the Three Seas Dragon Kings were already dead, the dragon clan would lose their backbone completely. What awaited them might be total annihilation.
The white light lasted for the full duration of an incense stick before slowly fading away.
Peace returned to the South China Sea airspace—but this peace was accompanied by bone-deep sorrow, weighing heavily on everyone's shoulders. In the sky, only charred phoenix feathers and dragon scales fell endlessly—some still burning, like stars falling from the sky.
Every falling phoenix feather and dragon scale struck the hearts of the surviving dragon and phoenix clansmen like a heavy hammer.
The blood sea below had long disappeared. The once crimson seawater had been completely evaporated, revealing the seabed's magma, glowing with scalding red light, twisting the surrounding air with heat.
In the magma, some incomplete limbs could still be seen—Phoenix Clan wings, dragon clan claws. These were the remains of the dragon and phoenix juniors, silently telling the tragedy of this great war.
The air was filled with a nauseating stench of charred flesh, mixed with the smell of blood and magma's sulfur.
Feng Qi and the surviving Phoenix Clan juniors stared dumbfounded at the scene, their fear gradually replaced by grief and confusion.
They hovered in mid-air—some with broken wings, barely supporting their bodies with spiritual energy, every breath tugging at their painful wounds; some without claws, blood dripping continuously from their wounds, hissing as it fell into the magma below; some blind, only able to perceive their surroundings through aura, their faces full of helplessness and panic.
"Clan Leader... is gone?"
The young Phoenix Clan junior with the broken wing's voice choked, and tears finally burst forth.
He looked around, but besides the falling charred phoenix feathers, he could no longer see that familiar seven-colored figure.
Only at this moment did he truly understand—the clan leader was gone. The backbone that had always protected them had vanished completely.
The ecstasy of Yuanfeng's return was gone, replaced only by bone-deep sorrow.
Feng Qi's body trembled slightly, and he could barely hold onto his parasol staff.
He remembered Yuanfeng's high spirits when she broke free from confinement, her resolute cruelty when she beheaded the Three Seas Dragon Kings, and her words entrusting him with protecting the Phoenix Clan.
But now, Yuanfeng was gone. The Phoenix Clan had suffered heavy casualties and no longer had a place to stand. He didn't know how to account to the deceased clan leader, let alone how to lead the surviving clansmen to survive.
"Clan Leader..."
The young Phoenix Clan junior sobbed, tears sliding down his cheeks and dropping into the magma below, instantly evaporating.
He stretched out his small hand as if trying to catch something, but only grabbed a handful of scalding air. His parents had died in this war, and now even the clan leader was gone. He was left alone in this cruel Primordial World, and survival had become a luxury.
The other Phoenix Clan juniors also lowered their heads, tears flowing silently.
Some covered their faces and whimpered softly; others stared blankly at the falling phoenix feathers, their eyes empty. Sorrow filled the air. No one spoke—only the sound of heavy breathing, the rumble of magma, and occasional suppressed sobs formed a dirge of despair.
On the dragon clan's side, the scene was equally tragic. The young dragon clan soldier collapsed onto the scalding rock, his dragon spear falling aside. He stared dumbfounded at the dragon scales falling from the sky, his eyes filled with confusion and despair.
"Lord Ancestral Dragon... is gone too?"
He muttered to himself, his voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz. The awe and confidence he felt earlier had vanished completely, replaced only by endless fear and confusion.
He remembered his parents telling him to return safely before he left, and the earnest expectations of the elders in the clan.
But now, the Three Seas Dragon Kings had fallen, the Ancestral Dragon's fate was unknown, the dragon clan army was almost wiped out, and he didn't even know if he could survive long enough to return to the East China Sea. The thought brought tears to his eyes, mixing with the sweat and blood on his face, making him look utterly miserable.
The elderly dragon clan general leaned weakly against the rock, his once straight back completely slumped. He looked at the messy seabed below and the desperate expressions of the surviving soldiers, his heart filled with regret and powerlessness.
He regretted blindly following the Ancestral Dragon, regretted participating in this meaningless war, and regretted failing to protect the soldiers around him, making them pay with their lives. But now, it was too late—nothing could be undone.
At that moment, a wisp of faint seven-colored spiritual light drifted from the void, like a firefly. It circled in mid-air as if taking one last look at the land she had fought so hard to protect, then slowly fell into Feng Qi's hand, transforming into a parasol leaf.
It was formed from Yuanfeng's last remaining soul. The leaf still carried a faint trace of Nanming Li Fire's warmth, with a charred mark along its edge—the trace of her burned origin.
Feeling the faint warmth from the parasol leaf in his hand, Feng Qi's body trembled violently. He quickly clenched the leaf, and tears surged forth again.
"Clan Leader!"
He choked, his voice filled with endless grief.
"Feng Qi..."
Yuanfeng's voice echoed in Feng Qi's spiritual consciousness, weak yet earnest, each word seeming to use her last strength.
"I have burned my origin, perishing together with the Ancestral Dragon... The Phoenix Clan has been severely weakened by this war and can no longer withstand any more conflicts... Lead the clansmen to the Volcano of Immortality, seal the mountain with Nirvana Fire, and never emerge unless a great Primordial kalpa descends... Protect the Phoenix Clan's inheritance, and do not involve yourselves in disputes again... Remember, remember..."
As the words fell, the spiritual light of the parasol leaf faded completely, transforming into a wisp of green smoke that merged into Feng Qi's body.
Within that wisp of smoke was not only Yuanfeng's entrustment, but also a faint wisp of Nirvana Fire—the last hope Yuanfeng left for the Phoenix Clan. It would protect the souls of the Phoenix Clan juniors, helping them survive in harsh conditions.
Feng Qi clutched the parasol leaf, now devoid of spiritual light, his knuckles white with tension. His palm was even cut by the charred edge of the leaf from gripping it too tightly, and blood oozed out, staining the leaf red.
Tears slid down his cheeks, dropping onto the parasol leaf, then dripping from the leaf onto the scorched earth below, hissing softly.
He knelt heavily in the direction where Yuanfeng's soul had vanished, his forehead touching the scalding void, his voice choked with resolute determination. "This subordinate obeys the clan leader's order! Phoenix Clan juniors, follow me to the Volcano of Immortality—forever guarding our inheritance!"
Upon hearing this, the surviving Phoenix Clan juniors wiped their tears and struggled to stand up.
Sorrow still lingered in their hearts, but Yuanfeng's entrustment gave them the courage and direction to live. They put away their broken weapons, supported each other, and surrounded Feng Qi, flying toward the Volcano of Immortality in the Southern Region.
Some juniors fell repeatedly during the flight due to severe injuries, but none gave up.
A young Phoenix Clan junior with broken wings clung tightly to the feathers of the clansman in front of him with his claws. Blood dripped from his claws, staining the other's feathers, but he still gritted his teeth and refused to let go.
His eyes were filled with determination, and only one thought remained in his heart: survive, protect the Phoenix Clan's inheritance, and live up to the clan leader's expectations. Even if he had to crawl, he would move forward toward the Volcano of Immortality.
In the distant East China Sea Dragon Palace, Ao Xuan stood atop the Dragon Abyss, sorting out the water fortune spiritual veins of the Four Seas. Clad in a cyan dragon robe, surrounded by faint water vapor, his dragon pupils were calm and composed.
As an innate Azure Dragon, he ruled the eastern water fortune, possessing profound strength and great strategy. He was also peers with the Ancestral Dragon. On a daily basis, he disapproved of the Ancestral Dragon provoking wars for hegemony, but due to the Ancestral Dragon's dignity, he could not dissuade him too much.
Suddenly, Ao Xuan's expression changed drastically!
He could clearly feel that the water fortune power in the South China Sea had suddenly become extremely chaotic, churning like boiling water. Then, two massive origin auras dissipated simultaneously—those of Yuanfeng and the Ancestral Dragon!
These two auras were like the pillars of the Primordial World. Their simultaneous disappearance caused the entire Primordial World's spiritual energy to fluctuate violently, and the water waves in the Dragon Abyss also rolled wildly.
Ao Xuan's heart sank abruptly, and an ominous premonition enveloped him instantly. He quickly channeled his divine power, trying to investigate the situation in the South China Sea, but only felt a deathly sorrow and desolation after destruction.
"Could it be..." A terrible thought emerged in his mind.
At that moment, a wisp of golden-crimson dragon energy appeared out of thin air in front of him. The dragon energy condensed slowly, transforming into the afterimage of the Ancestral Dragon.
The afterimage's aura was as weak as a dying candle in the wind, on the verge of dissipating, yet still carried the dignity of the dragon clan's progenitor. His dragon pupils were filled with exhaustion, no longer having the dominance and anger of the past.
It was the Ancestral Dragon's last remaining soul.
"Ao Xuan..."
The Ancestral Dragon's voice was tired yet extremely solemn, each word seeming to use his last strength. "I have perished together with Yuanfeng... The dragon clan has suffered heavy losses in this war—three Seas Dragon Kings fallen, ancestral veins damaged, and vitality severely weakened... You are the innate Azure Dragon, ruling the eastern water fortune, and possess great strategy. You can protect the dragon clan's safety... Guard the Four Seas, and do not let the dragon clan repeat its mistakes... Do not..."
The Ancestral Dragon's expression was complex. He shook his head, not finishing his sentence.
He knew he didn't need to say more—the Azure Dragon would surely do far better than him.
"I entrust the dragon clan to you."
After speaking, the dragon energy afterimage slowly dissipated, leaving behind a golden dragon seal—the core of the Four Seas Dragon Seal, representing the highest authority of the dragon clan.
The dragon seal still carried the Ancestral Dragon's aura, as well as a faint trace of tragedy. The Four Seas dragon patterns carved on the seal had now dimmed slightly, as if mourning the dragon clan's decline.
Ao Xuan reached out and gently held the Four Seas Dragon Seal.
The seal was warm to the touch, yet carried a heavy power—this power was not only the dragon clan's authority, but also their future. He looked at the dragon seal in his hand, his heart heavy yet resolute.
Sorrow and regret lingered in his heart. The Ancestral Dragon's fall was a great loss to the dragon clan, but he knew this was not the time for sorrow. He had to take on the responsibility of protecting the dragon clan.
Ao Xuan looked up toward the South China Sea, a complex emotion flashing in his dragon pupils—grief, regret, and worry for the future.
The fall of the Ancestral Dragon and Yuanfeng, and the decline of the dragon and Phoenix Clans, meant the Primordial World's structure would change completely. Along with the qilin clan before them, the once three great overlords had declined one after another. This would inevitably allow other forces to rise, and the dragon clan's future path was destined to be filled with thorns.
"Fellow Daoist Ancestral Dragon, rest assured. Ao Xuan will surely protect the dragon clan's safety, guard the Four Seas territories, and never let the dragon clan be involved in meaningless disputes again." Ao Xuan bowed solemnly in the direction where the Ancestral Dragon had dissipated.
His voice was firm, carrying unshakable determination.
Ao Xuan clenched the Four Seas Dragon Seal in his hand and turned to look deep into the East China Sea Dragon Palace.
He knew there was much work ahead of him: reorganizing the dragon clan's internal affairs, comforting the surviving clansmen, repairing the damaged ancestral veins, guarding the Four Seas territories... All of this was full of challenges, but he had no room to back down.
Ao Xuan lowered his head, twirling the golden dragon seal in his hand, and curled the corner of his mouth slightly.