True Dragon Nine Crowns Shattered

Yu Tianheng took a deep breath and pulled out the Nine Dragon Crown from his soul storage device.

The crown glimmered faintly in the dusk. Its nine golden dragons were lifelike, their eyes set with unknown gemstones that seemed to slowly open in the dim yellow light.

An ancient, imposing aura spread from the crown. Even the team members standing at the edge of the field felt a faint pressure and instinctively stepped back half a pace.

He held the crown in both hands and solemnly placed it atop his head.

In that instant, the nine golden dragons on the Nine Dragon Crown seemed to come alive at once.

Their eyes lit up sharply, and nine streams of golden electricity surged from the crown, spreading from Yu Tianheng's forehead throughout his body.

His pupils instantly turned vertical. Faint golden dragon-scale patterns surfaced across his skin, and the lightning of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon exploded around him, more than several times stronger than it had been that morning—

The lightning changed from blue to gold. Every arc that struck through the air scorched black marks into the floor.

His aura rose steadily, breaking through the threshold of level thirty-nine and forty, continuing upward until it barely stopped at level forty-three.

The training ground was illuminated by golden light as brightly as day. The thunder made the glass ceiling rattle, and the team members at the edge of the field were forced back again and again by the pressure, their faces filled with shock and wild delight.

"Come on! Let me show you the power of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan's treasured heirloom!"

Yu Tianheng roared, his voice trembling with a dragonlike resonance. Golden lightning exploded around him, and the entire training ground quivered faintly beneath his aura.

The scene that followed had already appeared in his mind:

He would shatter Fang Fan's defenses with one punch, blast him flying with lightning, and Fang Fan would collapse at Dugu Yan's feet while he stood in the middle of the training ground, accepting the entire team's cheers and admiration.

He exhausted all his Soul Power and gathered every bit of his strength into a Dragon Fist wrapped in golden lightning, launching it at Fang Fan—

The air was ripped apart with an explosive boom. Wherever the force of his punch swept across the ground, the stone tiles cracked inch by inch, while golden lightning turned the entire training ground as bright as daylight.

Fang Fan still did not release any soul rings.

He merely raised the Seven-Colored Light Sword, gripped its hilt one-handed, and lifted it upward—"Buzz—" The blade rapidly grew larger and longer.

Five meters, ten meters, twenty meters, thirty meters—a massive Seven-Colored Light Sword that blotted out the sky stood in the center of the training ground. Its tip pierced through the glass ceiling, and shattered glass poured down like a waterfall, refracting countless rainbows beneath the setting sun.

The flowing seven-colored radiance on the blade turned the golden lightning into a dazzling kaleidoscope.

Then he slashed down. "Boom—"

Yu Tianheng's Dragon Fist was ground into dust the instant it touched the blade's edge.

The golden lightning burst apart like shattered fireworks before being completely swallowed by the seven-colored sword light.

What he found even more unbelievable was that the Nine Dragon Crown on his head let out a piercing dragon cry the instant the blade descended—

It was not a majestic roar, but a mournful wail, as though its spine had been crushed alive.

The eyes of all nine golden dragons went dark at once. Cracks spread rapidly over the crown like a spiderweb, and then the entire crown shattered above his head with a deafening blast, turning into countless golden fragments that scattered in every direction.

The fragments drew golden arcs through the air and clinked as they fell to the ground, as though a sky full of stars had been smashed apart.

Yu Tianheng himself was sent flying backward like a kite with its string cut. He traced the exact same arc through the air as he had that morning, then crashed heavily to the ground and slid several meters before stopping.

The training ground fell deathly silent.

Every member of the Imperial Fighting Team was dumbfounded. Their mouths hung open, their eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. What was going on? Why was this exactly like the day before yesterday?

Wasn't that supposed to be the clan's treasured heirloom?

Didn't they say that once the Nine Dragon Crown appeared, no one under heaven could stand against it?

How had it failed to withstand even a single strike?

The remnants of the crown still glittered on the ground, as though silently mocking all their boasts from moments earlier.

Dugu Yan stood beside a corridor pillar. Seeing this result, she slowly closed her eyes, then opened them again.

Her gaze fell upon Yu Tianheng, lying in the center of the training ground with wisps of green smoke rising from his body. She shook her head almost imperceptibly. She had told him long ago not to overestimate himself. She had told him long ago to go back, but he would not listen.

Now look what had happened—

Before the entire team, he had been instantly defeated by a single strike. The clan's treasured heirloom above his head had shattered across the floor, along with the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan's dignity in the training grounds of Heaven Dou Royal Academy.

He really would not turn back until he hit a wall—and even after hitting it, he still would not turn back. He insisted on smashing through it—

Unfortunately, the one that shattered was not the wall. It was him.

Ning Rongrong clutched her stomach with both hands, laughing so hard that she bent back and forth.

The hem of her green dress trembled with her laughter, and tears even welled in her eyes.

"Haha—you've got to be kidding me, right? True Dragon Nine Crowns? Clan treasure?"

She pointed at the golden fragments still gleaming on the ground, laughing so hard she could barely straighten her back.

"Your clan treasure shattered in one strike. Is your Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan's stuff made out of paper?"

"Pfft—"

Zhu Zhuqing could not help but laugh as well. It was soft and faint, gone in an instant,

but on her eternally cool face,

that quiet laugh was like a flower suddenly blooming atop an iceberg—rare and breathtaking.

She truly had not expected the Nine Dragon Crown, in which Yu Tianheng had placed such high hopes, to be so fragile—no, it was not fragile. Fang Fan's sword was simply too powerful.

But the result was right there: Yu Tianheng had put on the clan's treasured heirloom, then been instantly defeated with one strike. He looked even more pathetic than he had that morning.

"I lost again!"

Yu Tianheng lay on the cold floor, staring emptily at the skylight Fang Fan's sword had pierced through in the ceiling.

Glass shards were still falling in scattered pieces, clinking against the floor beside him.

Fragments of the Nine Dragon Crown lay scattered around him like a blown-apart gold mine, their remnants glimmering faintly in the dusk.

He did not even have the strength to stand. Every bone in his body felt as though it had been shaken loose, numb and heavy.

What hurt even more than his body was his heart.

That Nine Dragon Crown was the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan's treasured heirloom,

something he had secretly brought out at the risk of being expelled from the clan by his grandfather. It had been the final trump card he believed could turn things around.

Yet—

it had shattered in one strike,

unable to endure even the time of a single breath.

I lost again.

He chewed over those five words in his heart again and again. The more he dwelled on them, the more bitter and astringent they became.

He remembered the bold words he had spoken when he put on the Nine Dragon Crown,

remembered his teammates cheering him on, remembered Dugu Yan telling him to "go back."

She had known all along that this would be the result. The whole world had known that this would be the result. Only he had not known.

Wanting to cry but unable to shed tears, he lay on the ground like an empty shell stripped of its soul.

Under the shadow of a corridor pillar not far away, Qin Ming stood against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.

He had watched the entire "match," from Yu Tianheng's high-spirited entrance wearing the Nine Dragon Crown to his instant defeat by a single strike, leaving him sprawled on the floor like a lump of mud.

Qin Ming slowly shook his head, turned around, and quietly left.

Fang Fan casually spun the Seven-Colored Light Sword in his hand. The radiance on its blade gradually faded as it shrank from a thirty-meter greatsword to a three-foot blade.

He casually rested the sword on his shoulder and walked over to Yu Tianheng. Looking down at the young man lying on the ground with green smoke rising from his body and golden fragments scattered around him,

the dusk poured in through the skylight behind him, coating his white clothes in a faint golden glow,

and stretching his shadow long and far until it covered Yu Tianheng's face.

"Isn't it time for you to say it?"

Fang Fan's voice was calm as water, but Yu Tianheng could hear the blades hidden beneath that water.

Say it.

Say what?