Chapter 78: 78 Dragon King

Can a person truly stand against nature?

Never, unless she is nature itself.

This was Jon’s long-standing belief, a consensus shared by almost everyone in the world.

It was the experience people relied on for survival and the “rule” that had been recited in the Empire for a thousand years.

But at that moment, Jon, who had firmly believed this for eighteen years, witnessed with his own eyes a human resisting, deadlocking, and even… crushing the colossal force of nature.

The crest of the flood.

It stood still.

Yixu closed her eyes and reached out her small hands toward the flood — they were pale, slender, and malnourished, with fingers even thinner than the raindrops falling from the sky.

Even Jon, who witnessed this scene personally, found it difficult to describe what had just happened.

The tyrannical beast that had been roaring, hideous, and carrying an unstoppable force was suddenly frozen in place by those hands, abruptly becoming incredibly submissive.

For a moment, Jon even thought his own instincts had frozen time because he couldn’t bear to see Yixu lose her life.

It wasn’t until a distant clamor echoed from behind that Jon stiffly turned his head.

He realized that the evacuating people had all stopped in their tracks, standing dazed as they gazed at this scene.

They were staring at the tamed beast.

They were staring at the frozen flood.

The dullness in the people’s eyes quickly turned into fervor, a reverence born from the destruction and restructuring of their beliefs.

The first person knelt down, followed by waves of the crowd.

Disjointed voices converged, shouting Yixu’s name and calling out those fictional titles.

“Saintess of the Water Goddess…”

“Savior Angel…”

“The God who tamed the flood…”

But Yixu seemed completely oblivious to these voices.

She kept her eyes closed, immersed in her own world, occasionally revealing a gentle and motherly smile.

“Are you all right?”

After a long silence, Jon asked her with a complicated expression.

“I suppose so,” Yixu whispered softly.

“Mother’s scent… Mother’s scent… Master Hero, I think I feel it.”

“Feel what?”

“Emotions. The emotions of the water.”

Yixu’s hands moved slowly, as if she were stroking some massive, pitiful monster.

“Master Hero, water is gentle, just like the commoners of this world. Clumsy, dull, drifting with the current, and hardworking without complaint. What made them become so tyrannical?”

Jon remained silent.

“It’s suppression. We naively block the flow of water and trap it in pools, but its emotions must eventually be released, and its soul longs for freedom. Until a heavy rain falls, and finally… it yields today’s bitter fruit.”

Yixu kept her eyes closed and gently reached out, touching the wall of the flood that was within arm’s reach.

“You reminded me. I originally wanted to block it, but at the moment before I acted, I suddenly… understood.”

“They are also just looking for their mother.”

Following Yixu’s soft words and motherly caress, the festering of the earth began to recede at a visible speed.

The high, bulging ridge of the Nujiang gradually relaxed, like beasts made of mud and floodwater lowering their proud bodies one after another toward their “mother.”

The surging, roaring, and tyranny all returned to peace.

The flow slowed down, and the sound of the waves vanished without a trace.

In its place was a soft, sweet, and exceptionally moist air.

Yixu’s pale skin gradually flushed with a deep crimson hue that grew darker and darker, as if seeping out from every pore.

She opened her eyes, but two lines of blood suddenly streamed from her corners, followed by her mouth, nostrils, and fingertips… in just a moment, there was not a single part of her body that wasn’t bleeding.

Jon suddenly understood — this was Yixu converting the ferocious power of the flood into Mana and transferring it into her own body.

But her body could not withstand such Mana.

So this was also… a final spark of life before the end.

“I’m so tired.”

These were the second-to-last words Yixu spoke.

“I’m really sleepy. I just want to have a good sleep. Please… don’t wake me up again.”

She finished her final sentence in a daze, her body going limp as she collapsed sideways.

Jon caught her in time and checked her breathing.

After a long silence, he carried her back to the shore.

Facing those hopeful gazes, Jon’s lips quivered twice.

In the end, he could only speak the painful truth.

“She is dead.”

Hope was instantly shattered.

A chorus of wailing broke out among the crowd.

Yixu’s friend, Sara, with tears in her eyes, found a relatively clean piece of cloth — it happened to be the Red Velvet used to decorate the church’s altar.

Yixu’s remains were wrapped in the velvet, motionless, with a peaceful expression on her face.

Jon vaguely heard fragmented discussions, the content of which was roughly:

“The angel sent by God to save us is dead. What should we do?”

He suddenly felt a wave of discomfort and coughed forcefully, startling those immersed in mourning.

He scanned the crowd and said with unprecedented seriousness:

“No one can be your savior; you must be your own saviors.”

“Although the flood crest has stopped, we still face many difficulties. You must pull yourselves together and not let Miss Yixu’s expectations down… all right?”

But the crowd only looked at him for a few seconds before ignoring his words.

They continued to discuss irrelevant things like “God,” “angels,” and “divine punishment.”

Only the middle-aged man named Parker walked over and said to Jon, “I’m sorry, Master Hero.

Let me accompany you to continue saving people.

Don’t blame everyone; perhaps they just feel that you are a bit like… a soldier of the Empire.”

“Fine.”

Jon rubbed the bridge of his nose and gave a bitter smile.

At that moment, the mourning and confusion in the crowd reached a peak.

The old believer, whom Yixu had previously kicked aside with disdain and who could only pray, suddenly stood up with a flushed face.

His voice was as loud as a broken gong:

“Brothers and sisters! Chapter Seventeen, Verse Sixty-Two of the ‘Goddess’s Prayer’ happens to record the Nirvana and rebirth of the deity!”

“So, the divine messenger is not dead! She is only waiting for our prayers to help her achieve Nirvana and rebirth! When she awakens, we will no longer be lost lambs!”

The lies he fabricated using the scriptures of the Goddess of Light won widespread approval.

The disaster victims quickly reached a consensus — then, under the organization of the old charlatan, they piously knelt and chanted towards the body inside the Red Velvet.

Jon stared blankly at the scene, looking at the rows of kneeling victims and then at the freckled girl, Sara, who was kneeling beside Yixu, her tears flowing like a fountain as she kept crying out, “Don’t die.”

An indescribable emotion welled up in his heart.

“Let’s go, Master Hero. I will organize people to take turns going into the water. Please continue to exercise your power.”

Parker continued to handle official business stoically, calm to the point of being almost heartless.

However, the magic book Yixu had left behind was gripped tightly at his waist.

He refused to let it go, carefully protecting it so the rain wouldn’t get it wet.

Seeing Jon staring at the praying victims, he explained with a bitter smile, “Please don’t take it to heart. Having suddenly witnessed such a miracle as stopping the flood, they need an outlet for their emotions.”

Jon nodded.

By now, his Mana had recovered to about 80% or 90%.

It was time to continue searching for those in need of rescue along the riverbank.

The giant waves Yixu had calmed made the water much less treacherous.

Tonight, many people might escape the harvest of the flood because of this.

Only, Jon did not notice.

Accompanied by the sound of chanting, on the slender hand wrapped within the Red Velvet, several water-blue Dragon Scales faintly began to grow…