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The shadows at the edge of the black tide condensed into Chou Long's form. His bone-white fingers lifted his hood, and his sunken eye sockets locked straight onto Chen Xiaojun. His hoarse words sounded like a dull knife dragging across a whetstone. "I am Yan Chou Long, titled Nether Dragon."
Chou Long, Yan Chou Long, was the peak level 89 Netherworld Shadow Dragon soul master who had fought Chen Cong at Ji Liu's engagement banquet four years ago, and he was also Yan Wufeng's eldest illegitimate son.
Back then, in order not to clash with the Yan Family too early and to buy time for the Chen Clan to develop, Chen Cong had only gravely wounded the brothers Yan Chou Long and Yan Shenglong, sparing their lives.
But that was then, and this was now. If it were today, Chen Cong would split him apart with a single sword.
A cold, leaking laugh squeezed out from Yan Chou Long's throat bones.
Chen Cong's Seven Kill Sword had left dozens of streaks of sword qi in his body, forcing him to gnaw on medicinal dregs in bed for three years and five months—which was already shorter than Chen Cong had estimated.
Because of the stimulation from that battle and from his father Yan Wufeng's total severance, his intent had instead been driven to take form. Added to the Death Spiral Array, it had finally forged this battered, long-suffering remnant body into the shell of a Titled Douluo.
As for how Chen Xiaojun recognized him, it was simple: this black tide was extremely similar to the secret art Yan Chou Long had used back then when he attacked Chen Xiaojun and the others, which should have been called Shadow Wave Assault.