Between the Dragon and the Abyss, Who Reigns Supreme?
From as far back as when history started being recorded, dragons had always been the creature farthest from human acceptance, yet it was also the most revered. Few souls could depict what the tyrannical and different creature would be in real life based off fantasies.
The dragon was a legitimate violence incarnate. Its emergence was enough to alter the atmosphere. Wherever it went, it was forever held in the highest esteem; it wasn’t hard to see why sovereigns were fond of classifying themselves dragons.
Chi spent most of his time sleeping – always had been the case. From his heterochromia eyes, Ming Feizhen saw the attitude of one presiding over the world. From his posture, he saw a monarch making sovereigns across the lands genuflect in his presence.
Ming Feizhen continued forward without shaking. “… It’s been a millennium.” He stopped before Chi. “Perhaps that’s how I should greet you… if you can discern what I am, that is.”
Dragons couldn’t comprehend humans’ language, but Pangu didn’t impose death upon Ming Feizhen right away. Instead, he toned down his aggression.
Never had Pangu and Fengpengs fought. Never. Among Six Evils, the dragon was an illustrious existence that none other could blaspheme – a born sovereign. In comparison, the Fengpeng cared only for eating to strengthen itself. Despite being polar opposites, the two were the best of friends. The dragon could never get along with the other honoured beast – the phoenix.
The fleeting peace ended when Pangu raised his head to belt, generating cleaving gales that distorted vision. His golden and yellow eyes turned into targeting tools. Six Evils didn’t distinguish their fellows based on exterior appearances, so Ming Feizhen should’ve been able to pass off as a Fengpeng when he possessed an identical aura. Alas, Pangu possessed more heightened senses than Ming Feizhen predicted. Pangu could tell he wasn’t looking at a Fengpeng in human form as there was no hiding the immense energy dwelling within the human body.
In the face of Pangu’s roar, Ming Feizhen plunged Forgiveness into the ground between them, then sat down on a rock as though he was a friend coming over for a visit. By no means was he putting on a carefree façade; nobody could be carefree when face to face with Pangu. In saying that, there was no reason to have a pit in one’s tummy, either. At the end of the day, regardless of what reaction you gave, the outcome would be the same. Before he even entered, Ming Feizhen already knew that it was impossible to defeat Pangu.
Aside from their destructive might and aggression, the most well-known fact among those who had been involved with Six Evils was their ability to defy death after their bodies vanished upon death. Howbeit, there were two exceptions to that rule.
The phoenix was called the immortal evil beast because it could infinitely revive without reviving in the same sense as the other evil beasts. The interval between its death and revival hinged on how grave its injuries were. The other exception was Pangu. Nobody understood how Pangu resurrected because Pangu had never died, not in the past, not in Mystic Era’s war against Six Evils or five centuries ago in Nieyao. The Pangu before Ming Feizhen was the same Pangu from a millennium ago. Even the strongest group of heroes couldn’t slay Pangu in the past.
Blood trickled down from Ming Feizhen’s cheek to his sleeves, but he remained still in his mind. In his mental plane, nothing was moving for his mind was busy calculating the status quo outside of the windy palace.
Although Luo Ming successfully took revenge, a level up in the middle of combat was impossible to sustain. His overall level would regress significantly after the adrenaline wore off; even his life would be in peril. As long as Abels and Moyan Luohou succeeded, they could help Feng Xue. Only once they had subdued the four descendants of Pangu did they secure victory. Needless to say, nothing ever goes to plan without any exceptions.
Ming Feizhen repeated to everyone over the last seventeen days that there would be casualties, but only one person could tell the casualty he was referring to was himself. He smiled to himself, sarcastically lamenting how perceptive Ming Suwen was.
As Pangu roared again, a grey glow emanated from him, shrouding everything. In the history of Enlightenment’s discovery, no one had ever cast such a wide range Enlightenment before. Pangu wasn’t playing.
Just as Ming Feizhen could sense the impossibility of winning, Pangu experienced a feeling he seldom felt in his time alive – fear. In Ming Feizhen’s eyes, he was looking at the ruler of the world. In Pangu’s eyes, Ming Feizhen was a bottomless abyss. The mystery of what was hidden inside that abyss, that uncertainty, instilled fear.
A black more ominous than the grey ocean gushed out from Ming Feizhen. From the darkness, he said, “There’s no need to be curious about what I am or be on edge. I…” The darkness around highlighted his eyes. He drew Forgiveness from the ground. “… like you, am just a monster.”
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