Chapter 420 - 378: Ancestral Dragon...

Before the towering gates of the North Sea Dragon Palace.

As the single word "Halt" was spoken, it was as if the very Laws of the North Sea had been rewritten.

The violently clashing Blood River and the Dragon Race’s Grand Array froze in mid-air, as if gently pressed down by an invisible hand.

The churning sea calmed into a mirror-like stillness, and even the undercurrents on the seabed silently ceased their flow.

The shrieking of the nine thousand eight hundred Blood God Children abruptly stopped. They instinctively recoiled and retreated, ultimately transforming into streaks of dark red flowing light and rapidly withdrawing into the Blood Sea behind Nether Spring.

The Blood Sea, which had originally stretched for hundreds of miles and churned like boiling water, began to shrink of its own accord. It condensed into a dark red pool no more than a few hundred yards across, floating beneath Nether Spring’s feet, as quiet as stagnant water.

Nether Spring’s blood-red pupils contracted sharply.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze turning toward the depths of the Dragon Palace.

There, what had once been only a hazy, mysterious blue glow now coalesced into a clear and ancient "gaze."

The gaze was formless and without substance, yet it carried an immense weight.

It emanated from the deepest part of the Dragon Palace, piercing through layers of palaces, endless seawater, and even the barriers of time and space, before landing gently upon Nether Spring.

Merely being "seen" by this gaze for a single instant—

CRACK.

Beneath Nether Spring’s feet, the seabed plain formed from ten-thousand-year-old Profound Ice split open without warning, revealing a bottomless fissure.

It seemed as if even this "earth," which had supported the Dragon Palace for countless ages, could not bear the ancient weight contained within that gaze and had split itself open as a wound of reverence.

The blood-red robes around Nether Spring billowed noisily as the Blood Spirit Scripture within him began to operate at its absolute limit. The Blood Sea Dao Intent roared wildly in his Purple Mansion, resisting this overwhelming pressure.

But he soon discovered that this pressure was not targeting his Cultivation, his Dao Foundation, or even him as a person.

It targeted his very "existence."

It was as if before this gaze, all power gained through Acquired cultivation, all will to struggle and survive, and all thoughts of "resistance" seemed petty, fragile, and... meaningless.

This was suppression stemming from the very source of one’s bloodline.

It was the condescending gaze of an ancient overlord looking down upon an Acquired being.

The ferocious smile on Nether Spring’s lips slowly faded.

Deep within his blood-red pupils, a crimson-gold light swirled madly before finally settling into a sheet of cold rationality.

’I cannot fight this head-on.’

Just as this thought arose, the scene before his eyes began to "shift" without any warning.

Everything was like an ink wash painting being rinsed with water—the colors rapidly faded, blurred, and dispersed.

In its place was a boundless expanse of "mysterious blue."

Here, there was no up or down, no past or future—only the eternally flowing Dao of "Water," silently enacting the ultimate cycle of nurturing, bearing, devouring, and returning to ruin.

Nether Spring stood in the center of this mysterious blue expanse. Below him was nothingness; above him was nothingness.

Only in the vast distance directly ahead did a single point of "light" slowly begin to shine.

At first, the light was as faint as phosphorescence in the deep sea, but it rapidly grew larger and closer, finally resolving into a crystalline throne as majestic as a mountain.

The throne stood nearly a hundred feet tall and over fifty feet wide. Its design was simple and ancient, with no excess ornamentation, yet it naturally exuded the venerable majesty of one who commanded all waters and ruled the four seas.

Upon the throne sat a single figure.

He had the appearance of a middle-aged man, with a rugged, ancient face, a prominent brow, and long, narrow eyes. At the corners of his eyes, fine, natural lines like dragon scales extended to his temples.

He wore a simple, wide-sleeved robe of mysterious blue and no crown. His ink-black hair was casually tied back with a single strand of ice-silk, a few locks falling over his shoulders.

At this moment, his left hand rested casually on the armrest of the throne while his right propped up his temple. His body was leaned slightly to the side, and his eyes were half-open, as if he were half-asleep.

Yet the gaze that shone from those half-open eyes was even heavier than the one that had pierced through space just moments before.

The North Sea Dragon Lord.

The title surfaced in Nether Spring’s mind, unbidden.

The Dragon Monarch’s gaze fell calmly upon him, lingered for a moment, and finally settled on the palm of his left hand—on the White Lotus.

"He sent you?"

The Dragon Monarch spoke. His voice was not loud, yet it seemed to resonate directly within every inch of "Water Essence" in this Dao Realm, causing layer upon layer of echoes.

He did not say a name.

But Nether Spring knew who "he" was.

The White Lotus was a manifestation of the Great Sun Purple Extreme True Monarch’s power. Its aura was pure and bright, the complete opposite of the Blood Sea’s filth.

It faintly resonated with the residual power of Buddhist Sect Enlightenment within the Dragon Monarch’s body, a power originating from the World Honored One’s Handwriting.

Back then, at the Spirit Mountain Sacred Realm, the Great Sun Purple Extreme had brazenly proven his Dao, using a clash of Fruit Positions to force back the Vidyārāja and seize its golden nature. His might shook the Profound Yellow Realm.

Though the Dragon Monarch had not been there in person, he had observed the battle with a projection of his will and personally witnessed the supreme power of that searing white sun as it shattered illusion and dominated the present.

One could even say that if the Great Sun Purple Extreme hadn’t suddenly intervened and triggered the great upheaval on Spirit Mountain, the Dragon Monarch’s projection of will, which had been ensnared by the World Honored One’s Handwriting, would have long ago been completely Enlightened and reduced to a Dharma Guardian of the Buddhist Sect.

The karmic ties between the two were tangled and difficult to describe.

Nether Spring did not answer. He simply raised his left hand slowly, presenting the White Lotus in his palm.

The Dragon Monarch’s gaze shifted slightly.

Without any visible movement from him, the White Lotus Seed lifted from Nether Spring’s palm of its own accord. It transformed into a gentle stream of flowing light and drifted toward the throne, finally stopping to hover and rotate slowly three feet in front of the Dragon Monarch.

A glazed luster flowed across the seed’s surface. Wisps of the immense life force and pure Dao Rhyme contained within it seeped out, creating visible "ripples" in the Mysterious Blue Dao Realm.

The Dragon Monarch gazed at the White Lotus, and a very faint, yet meaningful, smile slowly appeared on his ancient face.

"A gesture of goodwill?"

He murmured to himself, as if asking a question, yet also confirming something.

After a moment, he shook his head, his smile deepening.

"So be it."

Lowering his right hand from his temple, he raised his index finger and gently tapped the hovering White Lotus.

"This time, I will accept your favor."

As his voice fell, his fingertip touched the seed.

VMMMM—!!!

The seed shattered on contact!

Like melting ice and snow, it dissolved into a flow of milky-white light, supremely pure and warm, that surged into the Dragon Monarch’s body through his fingertip.

In that instant—

The aura around the Dragon Monarch changed abruptly!

The vast Dragon Essence, once as contained as the deep sea, now erupted violently. Yet it was guided and ordered by some higher power, transforming into clearly visible streams of azure light that poured from the acupoints all over his body, weaving and coiling across his skin.

And just as this azure light reached its most incandescent, fine yet stubborn tendrils of "gold" began to seep out from several of the Dragon Monarch’s vital points—his glabella, his chest, and his Dantian.

Within that gold, one could faintly see countless fine Sanskrit characters swirling, as well as flickering illusions of seated Buddhas, downcast Bodhisattvas, and chanting Arhats!

This was precisely the power of Buddhist Dao Enlightenment that had invaded his body back then from the World Honored One’s Handwriting, the very power that sought to convert the Dragon Monarch into a Dharma Guardian Celestial Dragon!

This power had taken root deep in the Dragon Monarch’s Dao Foundation, intertwined with his Dragon Essence, bloodline, and even his Divine Soul.

Ordinary methods were completely incapable of removing it; a forceful expulsion would only damage his foundation.

This power was the essence of the Buddhist Dao; even the Dragon Monarch had been helpless against it.

Yet now, under the cleansing wash of that milky-white stream of light, these golden Sanskrit characters actually began to Loosen and peel away!

HISSS... TSSS...

A faint sound, like melting ice, echoed in the silent Dao Realm.

The Dragon Monarch closed his eyes and focused. Around him, the azure and golden lights clashed violently, weaving together and grinding each other down.

A layer of fine, illusory dragon scales began to appear on his skin—a partial manifestation of his True Dragon form.

On every single scale, one or more golden Sanskrit characters were branded like bone-eating maggots. But now, under the illumination of the milky-white light, they gradually dimmed, cracked, and finally turned into specks of golden dust that fell from the scales’ surface and scattered.

As the Sanskrit peeled away, the illusory scales regained their pure, mysterious blue luster. Furthermore, a vast life force that had long been suppressed—one originating from the Ancient Dragon Race—erupted from the depths of his bloodline!

The entire Mysterious Blue Dao Realm began to resonate and tremble in response!

It was as if this Water Element World, manifested from the Dragon Monarch’s will, was also being rejuvenated as its master’s injuries healed.

The process lasted for about the time it takes to burn an incense stick.

When the last wisp of golden Sanskrit peeled away from the Dragon Monarch’s glabella and dissipated, he abruptly opened his eyes!

ROAR—!!!

A low dragon’s roar, one that struck directly at the very origin of the Divine Soul, burst from his throat!

It was not a roar of anger, but a long cry of release, of relief, even of a trace of exhilaration!

Amidst the cry, his aura climbed higher and higher. The trace of imperceptible "instability" caused by his Dao injury vanished completely.

In its place was a vast pressure, more solid, more profound, one that could merge with the entire North Sea!

His Dao injury was eighty percent healed.

The remaining twenty percent no longer threatened his foundation. With some time to rest and recuperate using the Dragon Race’s Secret Skills, he would soon make a full recovery.

The Dragon Monarch slowly exhaled a breath of Muddy Qi.

As the breath left his body, it transformed into the illusory image of a small, thirty-foot-long, azure-blue dragon. It circled three times in the Dao Realm before slowly dissipating.

He sat up straight.

His previously slouched posture was gone. He now sat upright on the Profound Ice Throne, his back straight and his eyes fully open.

In those eyes, there was no longer any trace of weariness or forbearance.

There was only a majestic divine light, as serene as the ten-thousand-year Cold Abyss, yet concealing a cataclysmic tsunami.

He looked at Nether Spring. His gaze was still calm, but the initial scrutiny and pressure were gone, replaced by a hint of... intriguing depth.

"Speak."

The Dragon Monarch spoke, his voice having regained its unhurried tone of absolute control.

"What does he want?"

A favor accepted is a debt to be repaid.

This was all part of Qi Yun’s plan.

To use the White Lotus Seed as an offering, helping the Dragon Monarch expel the Buddhist Sect’s power of Enlightenment and heal his Dao injury, all in exchange for the chance to ask one "question."

Nether Spring raised his blood-red eyes, meeting the Dragon Monarch’s gaze without a trace of fear.

"I would like to ask the Dragon Monarch to answer a question."

"Ask."

Nether Spring paused, his voice clear as he enunciated each word deliberately:

"If I may be so bold to ask—"

"Has the Ancestral Dragon..."

"...already awakened?"

The instant those five words were spoken—

The entire Mysterious Blue Dao Realm instantly froze solid.

Everything before Nether Spring’s eyes—the Profound Ice Throne, the seated Dragon Monarch, the flowing Water Element Dao Principles, and even the "mysterious blue" background of the Dao Realm itself—instantly lost all color, turning into a pure, cold, bottomless...

Darkness.

Absolute darkness.

There was no light, no sound, no temperature, no direction.

Even the very concept of "time" lost all meaning in this moment.

Nether Spring found that he could not move, could not think, could not even perceive his own existence.

It was as if he as a person—his Blood Sea, his Dao Foundation, his everything—had been utterly devoured by this darkness, assimilated, and returned to nothingness.

But in the instant before his consciousness sank into eternal annihilation—

Two points of "light" ignited in the darkness.

No, they were not light.

They were... a pair of eyes.

Eyes so colossal their scale was indescribable, so cold they froze the soul, so indifferent they regarded all creation as nothing more than straw dogs.

They were... a dragon’s eyes.

These draconic eyes filled the entire darkness, overwhelming all of Nether Spring’s senses, as if they *were* the darkness itself—the source of the void, the end of all existence.

A boundless pressure, like a ten-thousand-fathom tsunami combined with a billion-ton glacier, bore down on Nether Spring’s very "existence"!

Under the gaze of these draconic eyes, Nether Spring even had the absurd illusion that his body, his Cultivation, his Blood Sea Dao, and even his very existence as "Nether Spring," were all just an insignificant breath in the other’s long life, a fleeting ripple, a speck not even worthy of being called dust... utterly trivial.

Just as Nether Spring’s consciousness was about to be utterly crushed by this overwhelming sense of presence—

A voice came from the depths of the darkness.

It was not the Dragon Monarch’s voice.

It was older than the Dragon Monarch’s, colder, and more... unquestionable.

It resounded directly in the depths of Nether Spring’s Divine Soul, every syllable seeming to carry the weight of eternity, nearly crushing his soul:

"Those words..."

"Who told you."

...