Feng Wei stood dumbfounded.
This… this black horse is the true treasure?
It looked utterly ordinary, not even qualifying as a fine steed. It lacked the spirited elegance of a thoroughbred or the sturdy legs of a swift courser. Just a plain black horse, unremarkable in every way. If anyone else had claimed this, Feng would've scoffed. But these words came from Lian Zhen, heir to the Dragon Halberd, obsessed with seeking and taming dragons. Her conviction carried weight.
While dragons soared above, pursued and captured, this horse grazed lazily, untouched by the chaos. Magical shockwaves from the sky rained down nearby, yet it didn't flinch. No panic, no bolting, just calm munching on grass. Even when a spell's aftermath landed mere feet away, its mild, honest eyes showed no fear, only focus on the next blade of grass.
Feng studied it closer, searching for anything extraordinary. His gaze drifted to its underbelly.
Well…
The horse's endowment was… impressive. Even soft, its dark, thick member was as long and wide as a grown man's arm, swaying with each step. The paired orbs beneath, heavy and round, were each nearly the size of a human head, swinging like taut leather balls. Jet-black, the organ's tip was no human-like mushroom cap but a blunt, hammer-like shape, distinct and formidable.
Noticing Feng and Lian's stares, the horse lifted its head, locking eyes with them.
Six eyes met - human and equine. A jolt, like lightning, passed through the moment.
Deep in those dark, guileless eyes, a shadow stirred - a dragon, sinuous and black, cloaked in mist, with golden, wild, prideful eyes. Its form, horned and scaled, flickered briefly in the horse's pupils.
Feng staggered back, grunting. His mana felt sluggish, trapped in molasses. The overwhelming dragon aura radiating from the horse nearly stifled him, a testament to its purity. His ancient sect's techniques, refined and potent, were second only to Qing Jiang's flawless immortal arts. Yet this creature's presence made his power feel heavy, dragging like wet clay.
Lian, undaunted, stepped forward. Her sharp brows furrowed, her eyes blazing with a dragon's resolve to match the horse's own. Her aura surged, an invisible dragon baring its fangs, unyielding against the beast's pressure.
"Neigh!"
The horse startled, snorting twin jets of steam. It stomped, tail swishing, then backed off, retreating into the trees with a comically timid air.
Feng blinked, stunned. This horse, carrying such potent dragon blood, acted like a coward, devoid of the fierce pride expected of its lineage. Had that fleeting glimpse of dragon might not struck him, he'd doubt its power entirely.
Others noticed the horse's oddity too. Amid the sky's barrage, it grazed unbothered, standing out among the proud dragon horses that didn't shun it. Clearly, it was no ordinary beast.
A hidden figure, unable to resist, launched an attack. A dart, crackling with thunder, tore through the air toward the horse. Powered by mana, it screeched like lightning, trailing sparks.
Just as it seemed certain to hit, the horse casually sidestepped, dodging with effortless grace. It blinked innocently toward the attacker's hiding spot.
"Fast!" Feng muttered, awestruck. The move looked simple, almost lazy, but its speed was staggering. To evade a near-sonic strike so casually was no small feat. Even Feng, confident in his agility, knew he couldn't match that precision.
"Perfect! That's the one!" Lian's eyes gleamed, her striking face alight with confidence. Her clear, commanding gaze radiated excitement.
Feng had never seen her so animated. Was this the allure of dragons for a Dragon Halberd heir? Did they outshine everything - even him? A pang of unease stirred, though he hid it.
Lian raised her massive halberd, taller than her lithe frame, while Feng readied his artifact, prepared to help capture this dragon-blooded prize.
Others, less patient, lunged from the shadows, eager to seize the horse. It lifted its mud-streaked head, its body tensing, hinting at a divine grace. A breeze ruffled its mane, and steam puffed from its nostrils, ethereal and strange.
But just as expectations peaked, the horse flicked its tail, dropped its noble posture, and bolted like a startled foal.
The crowd froze, dumbfounded.
Too cowardly!
Is this a mutant horse, not a dragon horse?
Dragon-blooded beasts were supposed to be fierce, volatile, their blood fueling either immense power or wild abilities. Yet this horse's timid scamper defied all logic. Sects often exploited dragon kin's fiery tempers, goading them into reckless fury to trap or kill them. This horse, though, seemed to lack that fire.
Feng and Lian gave chase. Suddenly, a black thunderbolt split the sky.
The bolt shattered a roaming tempest, a whirlwind of malice feared by demonic cultivators, reducing it to scattered blades of blood and wind. Those caught in the fallout melted away, bones and all, before they could scream.
Thunder roared, merging with deathly aura, forming a massive storm above the clouded peaks, like a dragon churning the heavens.
Winds howled, lightning screamed, and the world seemed to wail. Birds fell, deer bowed, foxes bled, fish gasped. The earth trembled, mountains shook, and all life quaked in dread.
Feng turned, voice grim. "Black thunder births a prison, forsaken by heaven; the earth dragon stirs, distant and dire, all spirits cower in fear…"
A great calamity.
In this perilous Spirit Mountain Realm, only one thing earned the title "great calamity."
Even Feng, bold enough to defy entire demonic sects, felt his fingers sweat. He exhaled slowly. "Immortal Corpse!"
Fear gripped the crowd, trembling at the inevitable truth they'd avoided.
Immortal relics, divine traces - they'd seen plenty. But why "relics"?
Ten thousand years ago, in a cataclysm from the upper realms, immortals - rare even in an era of divine beasts - walked the earth. They plucked moons, shattered mountains, bloomed flowers with smiles, or drowned worlds in wrath. Yet one such being fell here, slain by an even greater force, its blood staining the skies.
Though dead, who dared disrespect an immortal?
And who slew it? The First Heavenly Emperor's sword-bearer, the ancient immortal, the guardian of the lunar mysteries, the lamplighter of the primal divine court, the supreme celestial of the immortal court: the Nine Heavens Mysterious Lady.
The fallen was Yuanwu Jun, a peerless figure who dominated an era on earth and shone in the immortal realms. Its sect nearly monopolized an age, outmatching both righteous and demonic factions, even daring to attempt a collective ascension. Madness, perhaps, but a testament to their might.
Feng stared into the realm's depths, where malice gathered. His voice was low, his fists clenched, heart pounding with a yearning from his spirit.
A great calamity… but also a great opportunity.
His dormant immortal artifact stirred, resonating with the aura.
"Go," Lian said softly, sensing his resolve.
"But…" Feng hesitated. Lian had enemies as numerous as his own. Leaving her to hunt alone worried him.
"Don't worry." She smirked, hefting her massive halberd with ease, its weight like a feather in her hands. "Don't underestimate me. I'm stronger than you."
Feng gave a wry smile. In raw power and destruction, she surpassed him. Her playful jab left him speechless.
"Sorry, Lian," he said, his youthful face softening. "I can't stay with you."
"It's fine. My goal's just to find a dragon." Her bold eyes flickered with rare concern. "But you… that Immortal Corpse is no joke. If it's too much, don't push it."
Her gentle worry warmed Feng's heart, her fierce beauty softening like water. But then, another face flashed in his mind - Qing's serene, moonlit eyes, cool yet timeless, halting the years.
If Qing were here…
He glanced at the mist-shrouded depths, glimpsing a fleeting, smiling face - playful, enchanting, yet pure. What are you hiding, Mira?
Recalling Mira Rain's silent farewell, her resolute gaze stirred unease. He murmured her name, lost in thought.
Lian caught his distracted look and faint whisper. A pang of hurt and frustration stirred, though she hid it. You still can't forget her.
"Safe travels," she said, forcing warmth.
Oblivious, Feng nodded firmly and soared toward the relic's heart.
Lian watched until he vanished, then turned, exhaling. "You don't fail me, I don't fail you… but how much of me lingers in your eyes?"
She pursued the fleeing horse, tracking its path through the forest.
The horse was cunning, dodging traps with sly glints in its eyes, leaping or swerving at the last moment. Frustrated cultivators cursed its cleverness.
The forest grew denser, fog thickening, visibility fading. The horse navigated effortlessly, losing most pursuers in the depths.
In the shadows, red-eyed creatures stirred, silently devouring stragglers. Some cultivators, sensing the growing peril, retreated.
Lian pressed on, her halberd cleaving through lurking threats, her eyes fixed on the horse.
After an exhausting chase, her mana nearly spent, the horse stopped.
Lian exhaled, drained. The horse's lightning speed had pushed her limits. The Dragon Halberd's style - overwhelming, tidal force - lacked stamina. If the horse fled deeper, she'd have to give up.
It turned, staring directly at her.
"Hm?" Lian braced for a fight or flight, but the horse stood still, its gaze intense, not hostile.
A dragon's shadow emerged in its eyes, its spirit manifesting. Behind it, a faint black dragon formed - majestic, golden-eyed, with deer-like horns and shimmering scales, coiling through the mist.
Guided by its aura, a crimson dragon shadow rose behind Lian, less potent but vibrant, the embryonic form of her Dragon Halberd's true intent.
"Roar!" The black dragon let out an ecstatic cry, then merged back into the horse.
The horse's eyes locked on Lian, radiating raw desire. It snorted, pacing restlessly. Its massive member, already enormous, hardened - half a meter long, thicker than a tree trunk, with a pink segment beneath the black, starkly tender. The hammer-like tip glistened, leaking sticky fluid.
Its gaze was primal, lustful, like a beast in rut eyeing a mate - or a lecher centuries abstinent, spotting a beauty. Its heavy orbs pulsed, brimming with potent seed.
"What?!" Lian stepped back, startled. Even her bold nature faltered, a flush coloring her battle-hardened skin. It thinks I'm a mare… no, a dragoness.
Her Dragon Halberd cultivation, steeped in dragon aura, made her seem like a prime mate to this dragon-blooded beast.
Dragons were lustful by nature, and this horse's leering gaze fixed on her.
What now? Lian wavered, caught in a dilemma.
In the realm's deepest corner, amid swirling black mist, a graceful figure emerged. Lifting her hood, Mira Rain revealed her face - both innocent and alluring.
Having shaken off her Holy Spirit Sect followers, even eliminating a few disloyal ones, she'd reached this place. She trusted no one in her sect. Her saintess title held no real power; the Left and Right Protectors had stripped her authority, some even coveting her.
Ironically, she trusted a righteous prodigy like Feng more than her own sect.
"Yuanwu Jun…"
Her eyes fixed on a churning mass of malice and deathly aura, where a corpse, steeped in decay, faintly appeared. Once a peerless immortal who planned a sect-wide ascension, it was now a grotesque mockery, a deathly abomination born from its remains.
"Pity. It's not the Holy Lord."
Disappointment hit hard. She'd hoped this was Azhur Wan, the Holy Spirit Sect's lost founder. But if their Holy Lord were an immortal, the sect wouldn't be in such decline.
If Azhur was tied to that ancient cataclysm, the Nine Heavens Mysterious Lady likely slew them too.
The crushing realization - that her search yielded nothing - left her hollow. She'd have to face her sect's vipers alone: Grand Elder, Second Elder, Mo Hufa (Left Protector), Dan Hufa (Right Protector), even the slumbering Supreme Elder, all indifferent to her fate.
A cough, laced with deathly intent yet faintly human, sounded behind her. Mira whirled, wary.
A child, barely five feet, approached - cute, with a youthful smile. But his brow was dark, his face ashen, eyes turbid. Deathly aura wreathed him, dimming his spirit and fate.
Noting her caution, the boy grinned. "Holy Spirit Sect? Didn't expect your kind here. Thought those rats cowering underground lacked the guts."
"And you are?"
Despite his frail, corpse-like state, Mira stayed alert. Such intense calamity aura was rare, seen only in demonic titans who could reshape landscapes and dominate sects.
The boy coughed, black smoke pouring from his orifices, his cherubic face twisting into a ghastly mask. After a moment, he rasped, "My three useless disciples… made you laugh."
"Evil Heart Sect… Evil King?"
Mira's shock grew. She'd suspected the demonic factions, backed by righteous sects' tacit approval, had sent heavyweights to this relic. But the Evil King, a legendary figure of the Evil Heart Sect, was unexpected.
Why would such a titan risk this?
Chuckling, the Evil King sensed her confusion. "They're too scared to come. An Immortal Corpse craves strong life. Devouring us 'land immortals' could let it be reborn, not as Yuanwu Jun but invincible in this world. Then, the immortal court would act… but the underworld and nether realms would welcome such a monstrosity."
Most sect leaders, secure in their power or slumbering for a new era, wouldn't risk this. Only someone like him - self-made, nearing death - would gamble everything.
"Little girl, how about a deal?"
"A deal?" Mira raised a brow. "What could I offer you?"
"Holy Lord."
Her face shifted. "What?"
"Don't you seek your Holy Lord?" He pointed to the peak's depths, brewing with malice.
"That?" Mira frowned. "Isn't it Yuanwu Jun?"
"No, no." The Evil King smirked. "You think Yuanwu Jun alone warranted the Nine Heavens Mysterious Lady's personal descent?"
"You mean the Holy Lord was an immortal?"
Mira reeled. Her sect's records never hinted at Azhur Wan being an immortal. Most believed them a powerful mortal, long dead, emboldening factions like Second Elder's to usurp power.
"Not an immortal," the Evil King said lightly. "An evil demon, master of emotions and desires, born of nether chaos. Pure evil."
He grew somber. "That sect-wide ascension? Madness. Yuanwu Jun, the whole sect - they were driven mad by your Holy Lord, who even tried smuggling an evil demon to the immortal realms."
That's why the Nine Heavens Mysterious Lady struck, her sword piercing not just a fallen immortal but the demon behind it.
The immortal court knew. Many did.
"So the Holy Lord's truly gone?"
Mira's heart sank. The Nine Heavens Mysterious Lady's strike left no chance for survival. Without a Holy Lord, she'd face her sect's predators alone, reduced to a pawn or worse.
"Not quite! Extremes reverse, despair births hope!"
The Evil King's eyes blazed with a gambler's fervor. "Yuanwu Jun died, yet its corpse birthed 'life.' If an immortal can, why not a demon?"
His childlike face twisted with calm mania, staring deeper beneath the Immortal Corpse.
As he said, from infinite death, a miracle could emerge.
In a sea of deathly 'Other Shore' flowers, a single, vibrant blade of grass stood - unremarkable yet a marvel of the three realms.
Wildfire couldn't burn it; spring winds revived it.
A strand could grant rebirth, a wisp could defy decay.
Eternal Life Grass.
"That's what I'd trade everything for!" The Evil King laughed wildly. "I want only that!"
"You're mad," Mira murmured, closing her eyes. But when she opened them, her gaze burned with defiance.
"I'll join you."
She refused to be fate's puppet. She'd seize her own path.