The Flood Dragon lowered her head to look at her reflection in the rice paddy.
She stretched out a claw, scooped up a handful of mud, and stirred apart the sky reflected in the mirror-like water. Bringing her nose close, she sniffed, then let out a long breath through both nostrils.
"What fertile land. With diligent cultivation, it can yield a rich harvest and sustain the living beings of this region."
She released the mud and let it slip through her claws. She glanced at the ruined ridges between the fields and the rice seedlings trampled into the muddy water, then looked at the trembling mortals peeking from afar. She saw the fear and worry in their eyes.
She turned to stare at the five cultivators.
"Cultivation is not merely the cultivation of power, but also of knowledge and experience."
Without waiting for the five to speak, she twisted her body and swam toward the great river, never having regarded a few ordinary cultivators as worthy of notice.
Before leaving, she used a spell to restore the field ridges. As for the rice seedlings, they could only be replanted later. If they were not burned by the flames of war, there should still be a harvest.
The incarnation was no longer an incarnation now, but a wholly new life.
Ever since becoming a flood dragon, she had felt an unseen pull, as though she needed to do something. It was both her destiny and a means of increasing her strength, not the task her original body had previously given the incarnation. In short, it was profoundly mysterious; until she arrived, even she did not know what it was.
She returned along the same route.
The short, sturdy corpse flattened in the pit was stepped on once more, until it no