The members of the Preaching Squad exchanged looks.
They had tried four methods, but none had worked.
Chaos continued to spread.
The palace of the Chechi Kingdom was dissolving.
The pillars in the court were blurring.
The dragon throne was fading away.
The king slumped on the ground.
"My kingdom..."
The king's voice sounded hollow.
"My kingdom... is it going to vanish too...?"
No one answered him.
Because the ministers were staring at their own hands too.
Watching their hands grow blurry, little by little.
It was not pain.
It was not death.
Their very presence was disappearing.
They were still alive.
They could still think.
They could still feel.
But they were becoming less and less real.
Like a dream.
Their dreaming selves knew they were dreaming.
Yet they could not wake up.
Nor could they keep sleeping.
They were trapped between dreaming and waking.
Within Chaos.
Neither up nor down.
Neither alive nor dead.
Neither real nor false.
That was the terror of Chaos.
Just as the Preaching Squad began to feel there was no way out.
A voice suddenly rang out.
"Wait."
It was Little White Dragon.
Everyone turned to look at him.
Little White Dragon stood where he was.
A strange light flickered in his draconic eyes.
His gaze was fixed firmly in one direction.
The Taotie Cauldron.
The Taotie Cauldron was still there.
The energy of Chaos flowed around the Taotie Cauldron of its own accord.
Like river water flowing around a reef.
Like wind flowing around a mountain peak.
Every dissolving force automatically retreated before the Taotie Cauldron.
Little White Dragon's eyes grew brighter and brighter.
"The Taotie Cauldron!"
He shouted.
"The Taotie Cauldron is still here!"
Everyone's gaze instantly converged on the cauldron.
The Taotie Cauldron.
A Dragon Artifact.
A supreme national treasure