Ao Bing carried the hope of reviving the Dragon Tribe.
According to the Dragon Tribe's original plan, once Ao Bing had cultivated his magical powers, they would muster the strength of the entire tribe to forge an indestructible suit of Ten-Thousand Dragon Armor. Then he could follow the tide of destiny and take part in the Investiture Calamity.
Whether he aided Shang or Zhou, he would earn some merit. With the protection of the Ten-Thousand Dragon Armor, he might even survive until the Investiture of the Gods ended and attain divine status with his physical body intact.
That would be the day the Dragon Tribe rose again and reclaimed its share of heaven and earth's fortune.
But Nezha had ruined it all.
With a body this broken, even if he could reach the battlefield, he would be unable to wield magic treasures. He would be weaker in combat than even the most nameless foot soldier.
The Dragon Tribe was finished!
That was what Ao Bing had thought before. He had wanted only to end his life.
But then he saw King Zhou.
Perhaps there was still a sliver of hope.
His father had always recited in his ear, "Only then did I know my fate was mine, not Heaven's." Even back then, he had felt those words perfectly captured the Dragon Tribe's plight.
Feared and suppressed, they seemingly ruled the Four Seas, yet all four were cages from which they could not take a single step.
A mere Nezha, reincarnated in the mortal world in accordance with "Heaven's mandate," could destroy everything they had without even being held accountable.
For the Dragon Tribe to regain its strength meant going against the tide of destiny.
King Zhou, too, stood against that tide and defied Heaven's mandate.
Ao Bing had made his