The Wind Wood Dragon, over thirty thousand years old, tore past the area where the five members of the Qing Clan were hiding without even sparing them a glance.
No, it was not that it had failed to see them—it simply could not afford to.
Its eyes held nothing but terror.
Qing Zhengyue hid behind a tree, gripping his long saber as his gaze remained fixed on the direction from which the Wind Wood Dragon had come.
He did not move, nor did he allow anyone else to move.
Making a sound now would be no different from exposing themselves to the predator that was hunting.
Liu Yunlan crouched behind a boulder, a poisoned dagger in her right hand while her left had already slipped into her cloth bag, fingers gripping the stoppers of two porcelain bottles.
The old woman breathed lightly, almost without a sound.
Qing Hongyuan crouched amid the treetops, his Azure Snake Dragon Wing fully retracted and pressed tightly against his back.
His gaze passed through gaps in the leaves as he watched the direction in which the Wind Wood Dragon had vanished, his pupils narrowing slightly.
Shen Wanqing hid in the bushes, the phantom image of her Jade Orchid Martial Soul fully withdrawn. She did not dare release even the slightest ripple of Soul Power.
Her support-type soul skills were powerful, but her ability to conceal herself was no weaker—this was an essential survival skill for support-system soul masters.
Qing Mufeng hovered beneath the canopy, his Azure Dragon Pupil fully activated as he kept watch on the black shadow drawing closer.
That thing was too fast.
One moment, it had still been hundreds of zhang away. The next, it was already right before them.
Qing Mufeng finally saw its full form clearly.
It was a bird.
An incomparably enormous bird.
Its entire body was pitch-black, its feathers dark as ink and gleaming with a cold metallic sheen beneath the twilight.
Its wingspan exceeded ten zhang. Every flight feather resembled a black sword, its edges sharp as blades.
Its head was covered in black scales rather than feathers, resembling the skull of some ancient reptile.
A curved black bony crest rose from the top of its head like a crown, its tip glowing with a dim crimson light.
Its beak was thick and short, its edges serrated like a sharp guillotine blade.
Its claws were black as iron. Each talon was as thick as an adult's arm, and the hooked claws at their tips curved like sabers, enough to tear through any defense.
What drew the eye most were its eyes.
They were neither golden nor slit-pupiled, but black as ink, with dim crimson light faintly flowing in their depths.
There was no fear, no hesitation in those eyes—only a pure, calm, utterly emotionless killing intent.
Inherited memories surged through Qing Mufeng's mind like a tide.
Mystic Nether Eagle.
A dark-attribute flying soul beast, a top predator of the skies.
Solitary by nature and fiercely territorial, it attacked any living creature that entered its airspace.
It excelled in speed, strength, and corrosive dark-attribute attacks.
A Mystic Nether Eagle over fifty thousand years old had virtually no natural enemies in the skies above Star Dou Forest.
Fifty thousand years.
A full twenty thousand years more than that Wind Wood Dragon.
Qing Mufeng took a deep breath and suppressed the tremor in his heart.
That Wind Wood Dragon was larger than he had anticipated, and its aura was stronger than he had expected.
With around thirty-five thousand years of cultivation, it was already an overlord in the depths of Hurricane Wood Mountain Range.
Yet now, this overlord was being chased by a fifty-thousand-year Mystic Nether Eagle like a homeless dog.
This was the overwhelming dominance of the superior.
It was much like the Azure Dragon's suppression of serpent-type soul beasts, only the method differed.
The Azure Dragon's suppression was a bloodline-based domination, arising from the depths of one's genes and making its opponents tremble to their bones.
The Mystic Nether Eagle's suppression came from the food chain. It was the king of the skies, while the Wind Wood Dragon was merely its prey.
The two forms of domination led to the same result.
Qing Mufeng stared at the Mystic Nether Eagle as the Azure Dragon Martial Soul within him stirred once more.
It was not fear, but fighting spirit.
The Azure Dragon was telling him: this thing was unworthy of making the Azure Dragon bow its head.
But reason told him that he could not act rashly now.
A fifty-thousand-year Mystic Nether Eagle was not something they could provoke at present.
The Mystic Nether Eagle was astonishingly fast, catching up to the Wind Wood Dragon within a few breaths.
It did not attack immediately. Instead, it circled once above the Wind Wood Dragon, the airflow raised by its black wings forcing the surrounding canopy into a massive vortex.
Leaves scattered, branches snapped, and a circular patch of sky was revealed.
The Wind Wood Dragon had been driven into a corner with nowhere left to run.
It stopped, turned around, raised its head, and let out an enraged roar at the Mystic Nether Eagle in the sky.
That roar carried despair, unwillingness, and one final burst of madness.
Since it could not escape, it would fight.
The Mystic Nether Eagle dove.
Not straight down, but at a bizarre angle.
Its body tilted sideways, its left wing pressed down and its right wing lifted. Its entire body became like a black blade, slashing diagonally down from the sky.
It was so fast that even Qing Mufeng's Azure Dragon Pupil nearly failed to catch it.
The Wind Wood Dragon opened its mouth and spat out a cyan Wind Blade directly at the Mystic Nether Eagle's face.
It was its strongest attack, containing all of its Soul Power.
The Mystic Nether Eagle did not even dodge.
It tilted its head slightly, and the Wind Blade grazed its cheek, shearing off several black feathers.
The feathers drifted through the air, yet the Mystic Nether Eagle did not even blink.
Its claws spread open and shot straight for the Wind Wood Dragon's neck.
The Wind Wood Dragon violently swung its head, using the dragon horn on its head to meet the claws.
The Mystic Nether Eagle's claws seized the dragon horn.
A crisp crack rang out.
The dragon horn broke.
The Wind Wood Dragon let out a shrill cry as blood gushed from the broken horn.
At the same time, the Mystic Nether Eagle's other claw seized its neck, piercing scales, flesh, and blood vessels.
The Wind Wood Dragon's massive body was lifted into the air by the Mystic Nether Eagle, all four claws leaving the ground as it dangled in midair.
The Wind Wood Dragon struggled desperately, its tail thrashing wildly and its claws clawing at empty air, but the Mystic Nether Eagle's talons gripped its throat like iron pincers, utterly unmoving.
The Mystic Nether Eagle tightened its claws.
The Wind Wood Dragon's struggles gradually weakened. Gurgling sounds came from its throat as blood poured out in great quantities.
At last, it stopped moving.
The Mystic Nether Eagle released its claws, and the Wind Wood Dragon's corpse fell from the air and smashed into the ground, making the earth tremble slightly.
The Mystic Nether Eagle landed beside the corpse, lowered its head, and tore open the Wind Wood Dragon's belly with its thick serrated beak before beginning to feed.
The entire process had taken less than twenty breaths.
A thirty-five-thousand-year Wind Wood Dragon had possessed almost no ability to fight back before a fifty-thousand-year Mystic Nether Eagle.
The five members of the Qing Clan hidden in the shadows watched from beginning to end.
Liu Yunlan clenched the porcelain bottles in her hands until her knuckles turned white.
The old woman had seen many soul beasts and many battles, but she had never witnessed such a level of overwhelming domination. That was not a battle—it was slaughter.
Qing Hongyuan's breathing became slightly hurried.
His Azure Snake Dragon Wing trembled faintly as well, not because he wanted to rush out, but from an instinctive reaction of fear.
His Martial Soul was the Azure Snake, the natural nemesis of avian soul beasts, but the Mystic Nether Eagle stood at far too high a level.
A fifty-thousand-year soul beast against a level fifty-six Soul King was like an elephant facing an ant.
Shen Wanqing curled up in the bushes, both hands covering her mouth as she did not dare make a sound.
As a support-system soul master, her instinct was not to fight, but to survive.
At that moment, every cell in her body screamed two words: Don't move.
Before you continue