Volume Four: Storms Sweep the Remnants, The Four Continents Sink Chapter Fourteen: The Soul of the Dragon

A small squad of Eagle Tribe scouts was conducting their routine patrol upon Mount Cangwu. The towering peaks of Cangwu stood shrouded in snow all year round, rendering the world a boundless expanse of white. The scouts of the Eagle Tribe usually patrolled in pairs, only springing into action if the Mysterious Heaven Bell detected something amiss, whereupon they would hurry to investigate.

Today, the Mysterious Heaven Bell stirred in the southwest. Given the tense times, the scouts’ nerves instantly tightened; like enemies at the gates, they transformed into great eagles and plunged toward the southwest.

By now, the two eagles had searched most of the southwestern ridges, finding nothing suspicious—so harsh was the climate that not even a hare ventured forth to forage. Just as they considered the alarm a false one and turned to return to the Celestial Palace atop the clouds, one eagle, soaring several hundred zhang high, spotted a faint source of spiritual energy below—a black, elongated shape writhing along the ground.

He called to his companion, uttered a long, piercing cry, and dove.

It was a black Azure Dragon, grievously wounded and on the brink of death.

This was no trivial matter.

The Dragons of Kunpeng Sea had, for generations, stood as guardians of the Desolate Cauldron for the Celestial Palace. Yet the Celestial Palace itself was forbidden to them. Unauthorized entry was a capital offense; the palace would summon the Nine Heavens’ thunder to destroy trespassers. And yet, here this black dragon lay atop the forbidden Cangwu Mountain.

The two massive eagles eyed the dragon warily. His breath was weak, and two arrow wounds still gushed fresh blood. Black dragons were nobles among their kind; this one must have been of high birth or rank. Why, then, was he so grievously injured and fallen here?

“Let’s save him first, question him later!” one eagle said.

The other nodded in agreement.

Thus, one gripped the dragon’s head and neck, the other his hindquarters. Mustering their strength, they beat their wings and lifted him, bearing him toward the palace in the clouds.

Within the Vermilion Bird Palace, Qin Ying was tending the wounds of the black dragon, assisted by the Star Sovereigns of her hall.

The two arrows had already been drawn from the dragon’s body. Each shaft was nearly three zhang long, as thick as a man’s wrist, the arrowhead over a foot in length, bristling with barbs and gleaming coldly.

At that moment, Jiaomu Jiao strode into the hall, calling out loudly, “Where’s the dragon? Where?”

The guards dared not bar this fierce guest. For one, he was well acquainted with the palace mistress and visited often; for another, he could not be restrained if he did not wish it. The guard merely pointed to the inner chamber, saying, “The mistress and the Star Sovereigns are treating him. Master Lin, please do not disturb them.” Then he fell silent and let him pass.

Lin Bai acknowledged him, then quietly entered the inner chamber. There he saw Qin Ying and her Star Sovereigns weaving spells. A luminous Cangyue Pearl hovered in midair, beneath which lay the black dragon.

Lin Bai’s eyes nearly burst with blood when he recognized the dragon.

“An Chenyu!” he cried.

Qin Ying shot him a glare and hissed, “Wait outside.”

Anxious, Lin Bai pressed, “How is he?”

They were at a crucial moment—a distraction now could spell disaster. Qin Ying barked, “Get out!”

Knowing her temper, Lin Bai realized that if he lingered, the Star Sovereigns would soon drive him out by force, so he slunk away to the grand hall.

He paced restlessly, worry gnawing at him.

Suddenly, a gut-wrenching roar erupted from within, followed by a flurry of chaos.

Unable to endure it any longer, Lin Bai dashed inside.

The sight was harrowing.

The Azure Dragon had awakened but was coughing blood uncontrollably, great gouts splattering the walls, the floor, and the robes of the Star Sovereigns. Even Qin Ying’s fair face was flecked with crimson.

Lin Bai rushed to the dragon’s side, glanced at him, and in desperation shouted at Qin Ying, “Qin Ying, do you know what you’re doing? You’re killing him!”

Qin Ying’s face was stormy, but she ignored him. They infused the Cangyue Pearl with powerful ninefold condensed energy and worked the healing spell once more from head to tail. Gradually, the dragon’s agony subsided.

Lin Bai rejoiced and called out, “An Chenyu! An Chenyu!”

Seeing no response, he turned to Qin Ying, “How is he? Why has he lost consciousness again?”

Qin Ying glared at him and gestured, sending the Star Sovereigns retreating with bows.

Only after all had left did Qin Ying speak to Lin Bai: “Only you would dare make such a commotion in my Vermilion Bird Palace. His injuries are grave—his dragon scales shattered, his blood nearly spent. We did all we could to staunch the bleeding, but…”

“But what? Speak!” Lin Bai urged.

“But his life hangs by a thread. We used the Cangyue Pearl to infuse him with a trace of spirit; he’ll awake soon, but at most he has half an hour left.” Here, Qin Ying’s voice caught. “You should talk to him while you can.” With that, tears streaming down her face, she left.

For a healer, there is no greater agony than to exhaust all efforts and yet be forced to watch the wounded slip away.

Lin Bai’s expression shifted from disbelief to reluctant acceptance. He gently called out, “Chenyu! Chenyu! It’s me, Lin Bai! I’ve come to see you! Is there anything you want to say?” Tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Where am I?” An Chenyu opened his immense jaws, asking weakly.

“The Celestial Palace,” Lin Bai replied.

An Chenyu strained to open his great eyes, taking a long time to focus and shrink his pupils. Only then did he recognize Lin Bai.

“Third Prince!” An Chenyu tried to rise to salute but realized he remained in dragon form.

“Forgive me, Prince. I lack the strength to take human form and cannot properly show respect,” he apologized.

“It’s all right! After all we’ve been through together, there’s no need for such formalities. How do you feel?” Lin Bai, as he bent to support him, turned away to wipe his tears.

An Chenyu coughed. “Third Prince, I am done for. I came… to bring news… Lin Xiao—no, your father—he is now… cough… excavating the treasury for the Dark Fiend Clan… planning to hand over the Desolate Cauldron to those wretches… I risked my life to deliver this message, but was struck by two arrows… the letter is… in the Infinity Pouch at my throat.”

Another fit of coughing wracked him.

“Don’t speak. Your heart is damaged; you mustn’t exert yourself. Rest. The Vermilion Bird’s Star Sovereigns are the best healers, and their mistress is a close friend of mine. They will heal you, I promise.” As Lin Bai comforted him, he reached into the pouch at the dragon’s throat and drew out two bloodstained letters.

An Chenyu shook his massive head. “It’s no use. I know my own body… cough… I must finish… Third Prince, you must return and save Consort Chen. For your sake, she has suffered all manner of humiliation from Consort Si, imprisoned in a sunless chamber, barely surviving. Your father means to use your mother to threaten you, and through you, the Celestial Palace. On the one hand, he begs for peace from the Primordial Lord; on the other, he conspires with the Dark Fiend Clan. Lin Xiao Yun has committed countless evil deeds, holding my father captive to coerce us brothers into serving him. Third Prince, you must stop him.”

As emotion overcame him, An Chenyu’s coughing intensified, blood frothing from his maw and filling the hall with the stench of death.

Lin Bai set aside the letters and hurried to steady him. “I severed all ties with him long ago. He is now an enemy of the entire Celestial Palace, and thus my enemy too. Do not worry, Chenyu. I will petition the Primordial Lord and personally lead troops to rescue my mother and your family.”

An Chenyu nodded as best he could, but after two nods, his massive body slumped and fell still.

Lin Bai cast aside the letters and rushed to him, “Chenyu! Chenyu! Don’t fall asleep—hold on! I’ll fetch the Primordial Lord—he can cure anything! Wait for me! You mustn’t give up!”

Without another thought, he bolted from the Vermilion Bird Palace, transformed into a current of energy, and sped to the Palace of Divine Insight. The guards barely had time to react before he bowled them over in his haste. He burst into the rear hall—Zhuo Hua’s bedchamber—where Zhuo Hua was resting.

Lin Bai had no time for courtesy; he flung open the door, fell to his knees at the bedside, and wept, “My Lord, I beg you, save Chenyu! He risked his life to bring word of my mother, and was wounded by Lin Xiao Yun. Please, my Lord, save him!”

Roused from slumber, Zhuo Hua was not angered. Patiently, he listened to Lin Bai’s plea, then rose at once, dressed, and took Lin Bai’s hand. “Take me to him.”

Lin Bai’s tear-streaked face brightened a little. “He’s in the Vermilion Bird Palace!”

Without another word, the two hastened there.

The servants and Star Sovereigns waiting at the door all knelt.

As they passed Qin Ying, Zhuo Hua asked, “How is he?”

Qin Ying, tears streaming, shook her head. “His life hangs by a thread.”

With a nod, Zhuo Hua strode into the inner chamber.

There, amid chaos, lay the long black dragon.

Zhuo Hua approached, placed his fore and middle fingers on the dragon’s neck, and, after a moment, said to Lin Bai, “I have two ways to save him, but both are harsh. You must choose.”

Overjoyed, Lin Bai replied, “Anything—whatever it takes, as long as he lives!”

Zhuo Hua shook his head. “Don’t answer yet—hear me out. First: I can extend his life by three days, during which his cultivation will remain undiminished. But after three days, he will become a mindless beast, no longer An Chenyu, but a black dragon that devours all, friend and foe alike.”

Lin Bai’s mouth fell open in horror. “That cannot be! Here in the void, a beast without reason would certainly be slain by the Celestial Palace. Absolutely not. What is the second way?”

“The second: I can heal his wounds and restore his human form, but his spirit will never return—he will sleep forever.”

“And how is that any different from death?” Lin Bai demanded.

Zhuo Hua smiled sadly. “To defy fate is never without cost. Better for him to pass peacefully than to live on in torment.”

“I choose the first!” Lin Bai declared.

“What?” Zhuo Hua asked, thinking he had misheard.

“I choose the first! Even if I must slay him myself in three days, at least he will have those final days. I believe he would choose the same.” Lin Bai’s voice was resolute.