Dark Hummingbird

As the last streak of golden light in the rift of time and space closed, the Golden Dragon King finally saw the scene before him.

An endless snowfield stretched in every direction. The wind swept ice grains across the ground, scraping his face like sandpaper. He hovered in midair, his crimson eyes sweeping the area, but he could not sense Tang Wulin's aura. That brat was still asleep. This meant they had landed at different points in time.

By rights, what he should have done now was find the Silver Dragon King, merge with her, and summon the Dragon God's descent. Once the two became one and the Dragon God revived, even the Divine Realm would tremble.

The Golden Dragon King raised a hand and scratched his ear.

"Boring," he muttered. "That Silver Dragon girl played by herself for ten thousand years and nearly got herself killed. Why should I clean up her mess?"

Of course, he knew merging was the safest path. But that stubborn streak in him had flared up—Silver Dragon King governed the elements and wisdom, clever beyond compare, yet after ten thousand years of planning, she had ended up freezing herself away. The thought alone irritated the Golden Dragon King.

"That brat Tang Wulin..." He narrowed his eyes and glanced toward some distant point on the horizon. "What if that brat really can make something different happen?"

At the very least, he wanted to see. Though his wariness of the Divine Realm was part of the reason, the Dragon God's recovery would take time. Besides, possessing supreme power did not mean the clansmen revived by the Dragon God would possess that same power.

A thunderous boom suddenly rang out in the distance, shaking the entire snowfield. Snow mist erupted several miles away, shooting into the sky. Intense soul power rippled through it, and dark purple soul power flames churned within the haze like a poisonous snake twisting its body.

The Golden Dragon King raised a brow.

"Evil soul master?" Some of the casualness left his face. "There are evil soul masters in a place like this? What era did I land in?"

He could not be bothered to think further. His body flickered as he shot toward the source of the soul power eruption. A golden streak skimmed over the snow, so fast even the wind could not catch it.

Closer.

Two figures lay sprawled across the snow. A blue-haired youth lay on the ground, clutching half a broken sword. Blood frozen into icy fragments stained its blade. Several tears marred his robes, and blood seeped from a chest wound deep enough to expose bone. His breathing was so weak that his chest barely rose.

A girl knelt before the youth.

Dressed in blue, with silver hair, she knelt in the snow with her back ramrod straight, shielding the youth behind her completely. The Golden Dragon King saw her lift her head and speak to the middle-aged man in a black cloak before her. Her voice trembled, but her words were clear.

"I beg you, please let him go."

Dark Hummingbird stood three steps away, his hands tucked into his sleeves. He watched the kneeling girl, the corners of his mouth slowly curling upward as his features twisted into a savage grin.

"My dear daughter, wouldn't it have been better if you'd acted like this from the start?" He paced slowly, his boots crunching against the snow. "How about you die in his place?"

Long Bing's body trembled faintly.

She did not turn around. But she could hear Wu Changkong's suppressed breathing behind her, each breath struggling like an old bellows. Tears slid down her cheeks and fell onto the snow, leaving tiny pits.

"Alright," she said.

She turned slightly, then slowly faced Wu Changkong lying on the ground. His face was pale as paper, and a deep crease still furrowed his brow, as though even in his dreams, he was fighting something with all his might. Long Bing reached out, her fingertips gently brushing his forehead and smoothing away that crease.

"Changkong," she called softly, her voice so faint it was nearly scattered by the wind. "I'm sorry."

Tears fell drop by drop, striking his face before sliding along his cheekbones into his hair.

"From now on, there won't be any Long Bing in your world." She bent down and pressed her forehead to his, their noses touching, their breaths entwining. "Live well."

"I won't allow it."

A hand seized her wrist.

Long Bing's eyes flew open. Wu Changkong had awakened at some point. Those amber eyes stared at her, surging with a light she had never seen before—burning, unwilling, refusing to yield. His left hand clutched her wrist tightly, while his right hand braced against the broken sword as he pushed himself up from the snow inch by inch.

It hurt too much.

The wound in his chest tore open with the movement. Blood dripped from the hem of his clothes, leaving a trail of dark red spots on the snow. His arms trembled, his knees trembled, and his entire body resembled a tree that might snap in the wind at any moment. Yet he stood up anyway.

He stood there, swaying in front of Long Bing.

"Changkong..." Long Bing cried even harder.

"I'm not dead yet." Wu Changkong's voice was hoarse beyond recognition, yet steady as iron. "You don't have to die, and neither do I."

Dark Hummingbird stood several steps away and watched it all from beginning to end. The curve of his lips rose higher and higher, the amusement in his eyes nearly spilling over, as though he were watching the most entertaining shadow play.

"How touching." He clapped twice, his voice lazy. "It almost makes me reluctant to kill you."

No. What he was actually thinking was—once that brat collapsed after exhausting his last shred of strength, he would kill Long Bing right in front of him. He would let the boy watch helplessly as the person he had fought so desperately to protect died. How delightful would that expression be?

At the thought, Dark Hummingbird even licked his lips.

"Enough." He raised a hand, and a ball of dark purple light condensed in his palm. "You've played long enough. Time to be on your way."

The sphere shot from his hand.

Straight at Wu Changkong's face.

Long Bing's pupils contracted sharply. She wanted to pull him away, but her body reacted faster than her thoughts—she turned, spread her arms, and stood before Wu Changkong.

The dark purple sphere lit up her face.

Wu Changkong's mind went blank in that instant. He saw Long Bing shielding him. He saw the sphere drawing closer. He saw her close her eyes. He had no time to think; his body moved before his mind did—he released the broken sword, spread his arms, pulled her into his embrace, and twisted around.

With his back facing the sphere.

It's over.

But the pain never came.

The instant the sphere struck his back, an overwhelmingly violent current of heat burst from his spine. Like a volcanic eruption, it flooded his limbs and bones in an instant, tearing apart his meridians, bones, and flesh before kneading them all back together. Wu Changkong did not even have time to scream. Every inch of his body burned, until all he could see was blazing gold.

He slowly opened his eyes.

His amber eyes were gone. In their place were crimson-gold dragon eyes, roiling with an ancient, savage aura.

Dark Hummingbird's smile froze.

"You..." He stared at the youth wrapped in golden flames, the amusement on his face shattering inch by inch to reveal shock and unease beneath. "You're not Wu Changkong. Who are you?"

Wu Changkong—or rather, the Golden Dragon King now occupying this body—tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into an unbearably arrogant grin.

"Who am I?" His voice was deep and majestic, like an ancient bell reverberating in his chest. "Are you worthy of asking?"

He released Long Bing from his embrace. Her limp body fell onto the snow, her eyes already closed. In the final instant before she fainted, she had glimpsed those crimson-gold eyes. Her mind exploded with a buzz, as though something had crushed her consciousness, and she lost awareness at once.

The Golden Dragon King lowered his head to glance at her, then looked up at the evil soul master across from him, whose face had turned livid.

"You're her father?" The Golden Dragon King sneered. "A thing that would even kill its own daughter—today, I'll rid the world of filth like you."

The Golden Dragon Spear condensed out of thin air and fell into his grasp.

The twelve-foot spear gleamed like molten gold from end to end, its tip aimed at Dark Hummingbird. Dragon-scale patterns along its shaft lit up inch by inch, breathing like living things. Golden flames erupted from Wu Changkong's body, instantly vaporizing the snow within thirty meters and exposing the scorched frozen earth beneath.

Dark Hummingbird took a step back.

He suddenly felt that he might have provoked something he never should have.