Three Thousand Days and Nights of Battle and Death

Zhong Shenxiu walked along the streets of Eastsea City, putting the earlier incident out of his mind.

Lin Xuan's apology was nothing more than a minor ripple to him, not worth dwelling on. He had more important things to do now.

According to the information he had found in the library, Eastsea City's largest Soul Tool materials market was the Hundred Crafts Workshop in the western part of the city. More than a hundred material shops were gathered there, selling everything from basic metals and crystals to high-grade Soul Beast materials and rare ores.

Zhong Shenxiu took a Soul Guide bus and arrived at the Hundred Crafts Workshop twenty minutes later.

The moment he stepped off, the sight before him stunned him.

It was an enormous complex of buildings. Shops stood shoulder to shoulder along streets paved with bluestone. Colorful signs bore names such as "Zhang's Refined Iron," "Wang's Crystals," and "Li's Soul Tool Parts." The air was filled with a peculiar mixture of metal, grease, and Soul Power materials.

People streamed through the streets in a lively bustle. Middle-aged men in Soul Engineer robes selected materials, students haggled over prices, and vendors shouted from their doorways.

Zhong Shenxiu took a deep breath and stepped into this sea of materials.

He visited several shops first to get a sense of the market.

The prices of basic materials were about what he had expected: refined iron was fifty Federal Coins per kilogram, red copper eighty per kilogram, and silver one hundred and twenty per kilogram. For light-element crystals commonly used in lighting Soul Tools, the lowest-quality Glimmer Stones cost thirty Federal Coins each, while better Fluorescent Stones cost eighty.

As for tools, a basic set of Soul Tool carving knives cost five hundred Federal Coins, a Soul Power tester cost eight hundred, and a workbench cost one thousand.

Zhong Shenxiu calculated rapidly in his mind.

Making the most basic lighting Soul Tool required fifty grams of refined iron, about 2.5 Federal Coins' worth, one Glimmer Stone for thirty Federal Coins, and a few auxiliary materials. The total cost would be around forty Federal Coins. It could sell for one hundred to one hundred and fifty, making the profit considerable.

But the initial investment was not small. At minimum, he needed carving knives and a tester, which alone would cost thirteen hundred. Then there was the cost of renting a workshop...

His twenty thousand Federal Coins seemed like a lot, but once he truly invested them, they would soon run dry.

I need to spend carefully, Zhong Shenxiu thought.

He entered a shop that looked fairly honest—Old Chen's Material Shop.

The owner was a middle-aged man in his fifties, with graying hair and glasses. He was repairing a Soul Tool component behind the counter. When he saw Zhong Shenxiu enter, he looked up and adjusted his glasses.

"Kid, what are you looking for?" Old Chen asked kindly, without looking down on Zhong Shenxiu because of his age.

"I want to buy some materials for making lighting Soul Tools," Zhong Shenxiu stated directly. "Refined iron, Glimmer Stones, and Soul Guide Array templates."

Old Chen froze for a moment and gave Zhong Shenxiu a careful look. "You know how to make Soul Tools?"

"I learned a little of the basics and want to give it a try." Zhong Shenxiu did not elaborate.

Old Chen nodded and did not ask further questions. In this era, while Soul Tool crafting had a high threshold, it was hardly unusual. Many Soul Masters learned some basic skills.

"Refined iron is fifty Federal Coins per kilogram, and Glimmer Stones are thirty each. As for Soul Guide Array templates, that depends on what kind you need. A basic lighting array template costs one hundred Federal Coins and can be used ten times," Old Chen quoted.

"I'll take one kilogram of refined iron, ten Glimmer Stones, and one basic lighting array template," Zhong Shenxiu said.

Old Chen did the math. "That comes to five hundred and thirty Federal Coins. Kid, are you sure you want so much? Glimmer Stones may be cheap, but they do not keep long. If you buy too many and cannot use them up, they'll lose their effectiveness."

"I'm sure." Zhong Shenxiu nodded and took out his money.

Seeing this, Old Chen said no more and led Zhong Shenxiu to the storeroom to collect the goods.

After receiving the materials and confirming their quality, Zhong Shenxiu left the material shop carrying a large bundle. He then went to a tool shop and bought the most basic Soul Tool carving knives and Soul Power tester, spending another thirteen hundred Federal Coins.

Zhong Shenxiu returned to the dormitory and listened to Zhao Tiezhu and Wang Hao snoring, one high and one low, rising and falling like two badly tuned broken gongs.

He did not turn on the light. In the darkness, those Light Gold Vertical Pupils glowed faintly.

His footsteps were soft enough not to disturb anyone. He placed the newly bought materials and tools into his storage bag, neatly arranging them beside the bedside cabinet. Refined iron, Glimmer Stones, carving knives, and the tester—each carried the distinctive metallic scent of the Hundred Crafts Workshop.

Then he sat on the edge of his bed. He neither washed up nor began cultivating right away.

He simply sat there.

Moonlight streamed through the half-drawn curtains, casting a long, narrow streak of silver-white light across the floor.

The night wind squeezed through the crack in the window, gently stirring the curtains. The light and shadow rose and fell with them like some silent tide.

Zhao Tiezhu turned over. His snoring stopped, and he mumbled something indistinct before falling back into a deep sleep.

Wang Hao's snoring continued, low and drawn out.

Zhong Shenxiu gazed at the moonlight beyond the balcony and suddenly felt a strange weariness.

Not physical weariness.

His body, tempered by the Eternal Myriad Dragon Source Art, was far tougher than those of his peers. Five hundred push-ups, five hundred sit-ups, five hundred squats, and half an hour of handstand support—such intensity was no more than a daily warm-up to him.

Nor was it mental exhaustion.

The nine-year nightmare had ended. His sleep was peaceful now, and he no longer had to struggle through slaughter and death every night.

It was a deeper weariness, seeping from the marrow of his bones.

Without realizing it, he sank his awareness into the depths of his memories.

Those scenes had not faded with the end of the nightmare. Instead, they became especially clear in the quiet night.

—The Sagittarius Star Dragon's Death God Rocket piercing through his chest.

It had been a battle beneath a shattered firmament. The sky had split into countless fragments, each reflecting burning stars. His Dragon Spear had pierced through seven corrupted Star Dragons, but the eighth—the silver-white Sagittarius Star Dragon with six wings on its back—had drawn its bow from ten thousand meters away.

He had not even seen the arrow's trajectory.

He had only felt a chill in his chest. When he looked down, a silver-white beam had already passed from his chest through his back. His heart burst in that instant, and his awareness ebbed away amid the searing agony.

—The Leo Star Dragon's hellfire engulfing his entire body.

It had been deep within Lava Hell, surrounded by churning magma and the stench of sulfur. The Leo Star Dragon had been three times his size, its mane made of blazing fire. Every roar sent pillars of flame soaring into the heavens. Under the unbearable heat, his dragon scales cracked and peeled away, his flesh blackened and curled, and his pain receptors burned away only to regenerate, then burn away again.

He had fallen in the heart of the inferno, watching his body turn to ash inch by inch.

—The Scorpio Star Dragon's Gale Severing Claw tearing his body apart.

It had been an ambush.

Three of the Twelve Star Dragons had appeared at once. The Scorpio Star Dragon had launched a surprise attack from the shadows, its six pairs of scythe-like legs descending in a crisscrossing slash like six Death Gods' scythes.

His left arm had flown into the air, his right leg had been severed at the knee, and his dragon wings had been torn into scraps.

As he fell, he saw his blood drifting through the starry sky like red dandelions.

The real Dragon Fighting World had never been anything like an animation...

There had been no friendship between companions like in the animation, no awakening through bonds, and certainly no miraculous protagonist's halo...

Again and again. Scene after scene.

How many times had he died in the Dragon Fighting World?

Three hundred times?

Five hundred?

He had never counted.

Every death had been real enough to drive him mad—the pain was real, the despair was real, the helplessness of collapsing in darkness was real.

The only unreal thing was waking up.

After waking, he had to continue.

He did not know whether a place called "Earth" had ever existed. He did not know whether the skyscrapers, electronic screens, and machines that could fly without Soul Power in his vague memories had been an even earlier dream.

He only knew that ever since crossing into this world, he had never truly slept peacefully.

Nine years.

More than three thousand days and nights.

Every day had been spent fighting, every day dying, every day waking in darkness to face another long night that was destined to end in death.

And that final destination—the Black Death Dragon—had once seemed endlessly distant, like a faint light at the end of the horizon, visible yet forever beyond reach.

But he had reached it.

The sensation of that punch shattering the Black Death Dragon's skull was still vividly etched into his palm.

The feel of bone cracking, the emptiness as darkness receded like a tide, and that roar that had shaken heaven and earth—his own roar.

It was over.