Within the Sky Screen, the scene continued.
Above the Market District of Hundred Spirits City, the Ancient Azure Dragon's phantom circled for a moment before slowly dispersing.
The azure light receded from the sky bit by bit like an ebbing tide, and sunlight spilled onto the streets once more.
A breeze blew past, carrying a faint trace of dragon saliva grass's fragrance.
Qingzhi remained as unhurried as ever.
He tucked his hands back into his sleeves.
His expression was calm, a faint smile lingering at the corners of his mouth, as though that Ancient Azure Dragon phantom that had blotted out the sky and sun had merely been a little trinket he had conjured on a whim.
He lowered his head and looked at Yu Xiaogang, who lay drenched on the steps.
Yu Xiaogang remained on his hands and knees, his entire body like a puddle of mud.
His forehead pressed tightly against the cold bluestone slabs, his limbs trembled uncontrollably, and the back of his clothes was soaked with cold sweat.
He dared not raise his head.
Because the instant that Azure Dragon Phantom appeared, the last trace of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon bloodline imprint deep within his soul had struggled frantically like an ant thrown into a pot of boiling oil, then curled into a tight ball.
It felt as though... even his bones were afraid for him.
Looking at him like this, Qingzhi sighed softly.
It was not mockery.
He was genuinely sighing.
It was the sort of sigh an experienced old gentleman would give upon seeing a young man who did not know how high the heavens were or how deep the earth was run headfirst into a wall.
"Young man."
Qingzhi's voice was gentle, without a trace of anger.
"A frog at the bottom