Even the Dragonkind closest to this stretch of sea were bound to fail to find the White Lord. They were certainly swift, hoping to pay their respects to this Dragon Lord, but clearly their wish would go unfulfilled.
The instant the White Dragon emerged from the sea, he had soared straight into the Nine Heavens.
Beneath the White Dragon, a realm of mountains concealing a vast expanse of water seemed to rise along with him. Endless seawater spilled from that realm, as though an entire ocean were ascending with the dragon.
His earlier dragon cry still echoed through the sea. Yet when the White Dragon lowered his head to look, despite having already reached the Nine Heavens, he seemed still to be close to the sea's surface.
At that moment, the scales along the White Dragon's graceful body shone brilliantly, almost like flowing ripples. High in the sky, the top of his head began dissolving into light, revealing Ao Po's figure, followed by his body and tail.
In a span that seemed to flow yet lasted only an instant, he became a man dressed in white. His gaze was calm, but his lips curved slightly upward. He bore less of his usual coldness, and more of the majesty of one attended by wind and cloud.
Below him, a vast realm rose into the air, shedding mist and drawing all the broad banks of dark clouds into itself. Yet the higher it flew, the smaller it became, until the man reached out and it transformed into a magnificent painting.
At last, the painting rolled itself up and settled into his hand. In an instant, the endless dark clouds gave way to ten thousand miles of clear sky.
To the Dragonkind searching the North Sea for the White Lord, it seemed that