“Spirit Power out of control?” Beiyuan stared at those black eyes faintly glowing with scarlet, quickly formulating a plan as his hostility slightly subsided. “Do you still know who you are? Where this is?”
“…” The man’s expression seemed briefly dazed.
His complexion was pale, yet not sickly. His features were sharp and aggressive, with piercing brows and a striking face.
Especially now, silent, with his slightly long jet-black hair covering his eyes, his expression was indistinguishable, but his aura was like ice, freezing everything around him inch by inch.
But Beiyuan knew the man was far from calm on the surface. Just looking at the surrounding molten lava, almost rivaling the Rock Flame Mountain, it was clear this man was like a powder keg ready to explode at any moment.
Beiyuan didn’t want to waste time with someone not in their right mind.
He prepared to knock the man out, invisible spirit power turning into unseen sharp spikes falling from behind.
Unexpectedly, the man’s perception was extremely sharp. He tilted his head aside and dodged the attack, immediately trying to get up from the ground.
Beiyuan gave no chance for struggle. He casually waved away the flames bursting and splashing around the man, pressing him firmly to the ground, pinning his legs, and locking his throat with one hand.
The neck is the most vulnerable and sensitive spot for any creature.
The man’s body immediately tensed up, the restrained hand clenched tightly, every inch of muscle accumulated from years of battle, filled with terrifying explosive power, like a ferocious beast ready to strike back at any moment.
“Don’t look at me like that. My patience is limited.” Beiyuan glanced at him indifferently, speaking from a height.
Even with his mind blank, the man’s instincts still sent out warnings— the chilling, suffocating pressure from the cool fingers gripping his neck.
He immediately stopped moving; only the tight muscles trembled slightly. His pitch-black eyes fixed on Beiyuan, as if trying to carve his image into memory, and with a strained voice, he whispered, “Fazel.”
“Fazel, that’s your name?” Beiyuan raised an eyebrow, confirming the man’s consciousness was somewhat intact. “What else? Do you remember anything?”
The man said nothing, his pressed lips revealing some hidden pain.
This was likely temporary amnesia; the out-of-control spirit power left his mind blank. Luckily, his logical thinking remained. Once the rampage ended, he would recover normally, no need for Beiyuan to worry.
“Since you’re a ‘patient,’ I won’t hold it against you. That last attack, consider it the price for trespassing.” Beiyuan pointed to the molten ground behind him. “You can have that half. I’ll lift this world in ten minutes; after that, deal with it yourself.”
At heart, he was still a stranger— this was his mercy.
Fazel said nothing, only staring at Beiyuan. Beneath the raging spirit power and the wounds on his body, his chest heaved heavily with labored breaths.
Beiyuan tentatively eased his grip a little. Confirming the man had no intention to attack again, he let go cleanly, stood up, and turned toward the snowy side, preparing to return to Amai.
At the same time, inside the Saen Wangcheng, countless guards were gathered outside the Training Room door.
They confirmed that Heir Apparent Fazel was inside, but no movement came from within for a long time, only waves of escalating spirit power chaos seeping out.
Those unable to bear it had fainted. Now, only the top-tier spirit power experts remained— yet even they were nearing their limits.
“Has the King arrived yet?”
“We’ve already sent someone to notify him…”
“If this keeps up, it won’t do.” One guard shifted his gaze, his tone changing. “The Prince got into trouble during our shift. If he ends up dying because of the spirit power rampage…”
Fear flashed across everyone’s faces, panic immediately setting in. “What do we do then?”
The guard’s eyes darkened with ill intent as he licked his lips. “I’ll go in first.”
“Uh…” The others hesitated.
The guard squeezed his sweaty palms, thinking of the favors the Duke had once promised him.
His tone naturally settled, finally deciding, “If the Prince needs our help, missing the best rescue time is unforgivable.”
Without waiting for others to react, the guard ignored the Training Room’s unlocking code, kicked the door open, and anxiously shouted, “Your Highness, are you okay?”
At this moment, Fazel’s spirit strength and sensitivity were hundreds of times stronger than usual.
That kick and shout was like stabbing a highly sensitive person a hundred times over with a needle. Such a person couldn’t even bear a gentle touch, let alone such fierce stimulation.
Inside the Training Room, Fazel’s skin immediately cracked, bleeding.
This pain was faithfully reflected to his spiritual body.
Meanwhile, Beiyuan, walking in the snowy world, suddenly sensed a terrifying new force rising behind him. He frowned slightly, stopped, and turned around.
Facing the sky dyed completely red by flames, Beiyuan took a long stride and instantly teleported before the man.
He was about to speak but was stunned by the man’s current form.
“…You can still transform?” Beiyuan said in surprise.
Black, ink-like scales had appeared on the man’s skin without notice— on his arms, ankles, and other areas. The scales on his neck and above flickered faintly and unstably.
Suddenly, a ripping sound of flesh echoed from his back, and a pair of membranous wings “whooshed” open behind him, rapidly flapping.
The more Beiyuan looked at this form, the more it resembled a “little dragon man.”
Come to think of it, in Amai’s explanations, the Saen Clan always claimed to be descendants of dragons. Could it be true? If so, there would be no reason for such fierce debates across the universe.
The only conclusion: very few in the Saen Clan truly inherited or awakened dragon blood— this man was one of the rare few.
This also explained the man’s spirit power outburst: after generations of dilution and degeneration, his body couldn’t bear the dragon blood’s power, plunging both spirit and flesh into chaos.
To Beiyuan’s eyes, the man’s dragon blood was weak— only around a fraction of a percent.
He couldn’t even fully transform into a dragon, lagging far behind the Kirin Insect species, who resembled dragons much more.
Still, in today’s universe where Kirin Insects are top-protected 3S species, this level was quite high.
Fazel’s pitch-black pupils flickered with scarlet. Now, he looked like a complete wild beast, barely conscious.
With dragons confirmed extinct, Fazel, as the Saen Clan’s richest in dragon blood, had no one to teach him how to control this power.
He could only endure until, in the end, the dragon blood would dominate him instead.
“Hey, you…” Beiyuan tried to test the waters, hands behind his back, ready to forcefully snap the man back to clarity if he showed aggression.
Fazel only gave him a heavy look. His scarlet eyes flickered, then he slowly and heavily turned around, moving step by step toward the molten lava.
His figure looked like a wounded beast fleeing into the forest, breathing rough and wary, isolated and alone.
“…Are you okay?” Beiyuan delayed a second, adding the unfinished words.
Somehow, this touched a nerve, and Fazel suddenly spun around.
Fazel felt another voice filled with malice, repeating the same words loudly by his ear.
He began to lose clarity, swallowed bit by bit by the chaotic and violent power.
Beiyuan saw his eyes turn completely red, like stained with blood, losing focus.
The next moment, the man’s thin lips parted slightly, and the molten lava around seemed drawn toward him, wildly converging.
His wings stretched to their limit, flapping the warped heat in the air, blurring his figure.
“Dragon Breath?” Beiyuan recognized the posture and power buildup imitating a dragon’s breath.
This was one of the most common and representative dragon attacks in legend— simple, powerful, and versatile.
“I’ll assume your mind is cloudy now.” Beiyuan flexed his wrists, loosening his collar. “Since that’s the case, tit for tat— I won’t hold back either.”
Far away, Amai suddenly heard Beiyuan calling her name.
She hurriedly looked around but couldn’t find him.
Just as she wondered, she heard his voice: “Amai, want to see a magic trick?”
Amai honestly gave up searching, pouted, and sat on the ground dejectedly. “I just want to see that Ice Dragon statue again.”
“A statue that doesn’t move is so boring,” Beiyuan’s voice smiled. “How about I make you a dragon that can move?”
“…Really!?” Amai jumped up, eager. “Where?”
Beiyuan said, “Look up.”
Instinctively, Amai lifted her head and was instantly drawn to the golden light on the distant horizon.
Countless golden particles appeared suddenly, converging sharply into one.
The light flared to its peak, instantly dispersing the fiery red clouds.
Then, Amai saw a vision she would never forget—
The golden dragon’s form was blurry but discernible, its head raised high, mouth slightly open.
The next second came a low murmur, as if from an ancient mythic age, deeper and more ethereal than the song of a deep-sea leviathan.
The dragon slightly spread its shoulders, its wings slowly and powerfully unfolding, standing on the vast frozen land but seeming to soar.
This wasn’t a violent, clashing scene but a quiet one.
The murmur felt like a hazy and enduring call.
At that moment, Amai saw mountains of snow pines, melting glaciers, gently falling snow, distant and elusive auroras… and the gates of the dragon kingdom opening to her.
The golden dragon standing there condensed an incredibly brilliant, ancient, and splendid civilization.
That civilization reached through unimaginably distant time to reveal a corner to her, like a divine kingdom peering at mortals— solemn, majestic, mysterious, and grand.
Her heart tightened little by little, then suddenly raced wildly.
The Dragon Breath came quietly but with an explosive effect.
It easily swallowed another roar, its power rapidly spreading through the entire world.
Until heaven and earth were engulfed in a blinding white light, the world gave a clear cracking sound, like glass shattering suddenly with a “crack.”
Amai shivered all over, gasping, coming back to herself on the icy lake from reality.
Beiyuan, back in his child form, strolled beside her calmly, smiling. “Looks like the potion time is over. You shouldn’t be in pain now.”
“No more pain…” Amai answered instinctively.
Regaining clarity, she suddenly grabbed Beiyuan’s clothes. “That dragon… was it really fake?”
Beiyuan nodded without hesitation. “Yeah, fake.”
It was indeed fake, but the breath was real.
That dragon, strictly speaking, was a phantom formed by the power contained in his breath; he himself hadn’t appeared.
Thinking ahead, he could save his “breath” and use it later, producing the same effect of a dragon’s apparition, just like the crystal that saved the Six-Winged Clan—wait, did he just unknowingly grasp a new skill?
Hearing his answer, Amai didn’t know if she was more disappointed or relieved.
She touched her overburdened heart, exhaling deeply with lingering fear. “Better fake than not… otherwise, how could I still be alive…”
“What?” Beiyuan looked at her curiously.
“Ah, nothing!” Amai quickly scrambled up from the ice, her excited heart making her want to move nonstop. She looked around. “So… where’s the other person in the Spiritual World?”
“What,” Beiyuan raised a brow with a smile, “you want to get revenge on him?”
“Isn’t it allowed?” Amai scowled, thinking of that episode.
“That’s probably difficult.” Comparing their vast power difference, Beiyuan spoke realistically. “He should have returned to his body by now.”
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