Chapter Fifty-Seven: Purging the Bandit Stronghold

Ye Zihan smiled faintly. Under the astonished gazes of the crowd, he gently stroked Mo You’s dragon head, and the latter responded with remarkable docility.

He… he actually dared to touch a dragon’s head? No, no… this must be an illusion. How could a member of the dignified Thousand-Shadow Blood Phantasm Dragon clan—one of the three great beast families, noble in blood—possibly address a mere youth as “big brother”?

The people of Clearwater Stronghold had long since forgotten they were in the midst of a desperate flight. Their mouths hung open in shock as they stared, transfixed by the scene before them.

Over on the side of Glimmer Stronghold, everyone was dumbfounded as well; some even swallowed nervously, unable to believe their eyes. Such a scene should only exist in boastful tales—someone claiming to have forged a close bond with a dragon. And yet, here was someone whose dragon called him “big brother”—never before had anyone boasted of such a thing.

“Big brother, I only found two pieces of that map. I don’t know where the last one went,” Mo You’s voice rang out, echoing across the quiet hillside, grating on everyone’s ears.

It was true! This exalted Thousand-Shadow Blood Phantasm Dragon was addressing the youth as his chief! It was simply unbelievable! Had the sun risen in the west today?

Yan Chen, standing to the side, was red-eyed with envy, his face twisted in frustration as he ground his teeth. He thought bitterly: I want a dragon too. I must conquer one myself! To have it call me big brother and carry me on adventures—how magnificent that would be! Just like Zihan, awe-inspiring, the envy of all…

“It’s fine. Once we capture them, we’ll know soon enough,” Ye Zihan said, pointing at the group from Clearwater Stronghold, finally snapping both parties out of their daze.

The chief of Glimmer Stronghold came to himself first, shaking off the turmoil in his heart. Wielding his twin hammers, he dashed forward with a speed belying his size, heading straight for the leader of Clearwater Stronghold.

“Not good! Everyone, retreat!” cried the Clearwater chief. Though his strength was at the mid-tier of the Five Elements, equal to his counterpart from Glimmer, he was outnumbered. Under the circumstances, it was wise to bend rather than break.

“Don’t let these despicable scoundrels escape!” the chief of Glimmer Stronghold bellowed. Dozens of his men echoed his shout and surged after the fleeing bandits of Clearwater.

“Big brother, I want to join the fight too,” Mo You said, his eyes shining eagerly. He had been tasked with searching for the map fragments and setting the mountains ablaze, but hadn’t yet joined the fray. Now, he felt as if countless ants were crawling and biting inside him, itching to act.

Ye Zihan smiled, “Go ahead, but don’t hurt the wrong people.”

“Alright! I can finally show my dragon might. Wahahaha… You there, don’t run! Your Grandpa Dragon is coming…” Mo You soared skyward, letting out a series of youthful howls—his voice as tender as a five- or six-year-old child’s, yet none dared underestimate him; all wished to avoid his path.

The strength of a dragon clan member cannot be compared to a human of the same rank. They possessed ancient bloodlines, secret arts, and physical resilience far beyond not only humans of their level, but sometimes even those above.

Mo You was still in his infancy, not yet two years old, but his strength had already reached the late fourth tier—equivalent to the late Four Symbols stage in human terms. How could any so-called genius among men compare?

He moved with astonishing speed, streaking through the air like a shooting star, and intercepted the chief of Clearwater Stronghold, opening his enormous maw to reveal chillingly sharp fangs.

“You…” The Clearwater leader was utterly disheartened, his will to fight extinguished. He could only point at the Thousand-Shadow Blood Phantasm Dragon overhead, rendered speechless by despair.

Mo You gave a cold laugh, his voice childlike but mocking: “What do you mean, ‘you’? Upon seeing your Grandpa Dragon, shouldn’t you kneel and beg for mercy? Hmph, since you’re so rude, don’t blame me for being merciless.”

The chief of Clearwater Stronghold was deeply aggrieved. If you want to attack me, then do it—why must you invent such a grandiose pretext?

Sensing his thoughts, Mo You sneered, “I learned this from you at Clearwater Stronghold—always putting a crown on your own head before killing, and refusing to take it off even in defeat. Hmph, you dared to deceive my big brother and me, using us as pawns. That’s a grudge I won’t let go!”

As his childish voice fell, a thunderous dragon’s roar resounded from the heavens, like a clap of divine thunder. All below felt its force—those with lesser strength bled from every orifice and died on the spot; even the stronger ones felt as if their eardrums would burst.

Mo You had unleashed the dragon’s skill: Roar of Dominion!

The chief of Clearwater Stronghold bore the brunt of it. As the roar struck, he coughed up blood repeatedly, his spirit flagging, all strength drained.

“So this is the power of the dragon clan? Just a late-fourth-tier beast, yet it’s crushed a mid-tier Five Elements human cultivator, leaving him with no will to resist, only awe…” Yan Chen watched from afar, clutching his ears, waves of shock crashing through his heart. Then his eyes gleamed as he muttered, “I must get a dragon of my own and make it my subordinate, no matter what…”

Ye Zihan, beside him, was equally shaken. If a Thousand-Shadow Blood Phantasm Dragon—one of the three great beast families—was this formidable, what of the other two? He yearned to find out. Making up his mind, he resolved to train even harder, to challenge the world’s strongest as he searched for the secret of reviving his master.

“Heh… Grandpa Dragon won’t play with you anymore. You’re far too fragile. For someone so young, you’re even weaker than those decrepit old fools in their mansions,” Mo You said with boredom. He opened his jaws wide, drawing in the surrounding vital energy until it condensed into a golden sphere the size of a human head.

“Go!”

The golden orb shot downward like a meteor. It happened so swiftly that all anyone saw was a blinding flash, forcing them to shut their eyes. A tremendous explosion followed.

When the glare faded, a pit three fathoms deep and five wide marked the spot where the Clearwater chief had stood. The dragon, only about three meters long, shook his claws dismissively. “So weak—just a small sphere and not even a scrap left.”

In truth, he had used all his strength, but dragons are proud creatures and would never admit to having gone all out.

The chief of Glimmer Stronghold was stunned. That was a cultivator equal to myself, he thought, and yet he was utterly obliterated. Had I faced him, my fate would’ve been the same. He shivered, grateful that he hadn’t acted against Ye Zihan and Yan Chen when they had first joined him under false pretenses; otherwise, Glimmer Stronghold would have been wiped out by this dragon alone, without needing the help of Clearwater or the authorities.

“Big brother, how did I do?” Mo You returned, brimming with excitement.

Ye Zihan gave a thumbs up. “Impressive!”

Yan Chen, watching their exchange, turned away in annoyance and muttered, “That’s all? Nothing to brag about.”

“Hmph! You wretch, how dare you belittle the might of my dragon clan! I, in the name of the Thousand-Shadow Blood Phantasm Dragons, declare war on you!” Mo You retorted angrily.

Yan Chen broke out in a cold sweat. Are you kidding? Fight a monster like you? I’m not that foolish. Aloud, he said, “I don’t want to play with a brat like you—no one would say I’m bullying a child.”

“What! You called me little? Hmph! I feel my dragon dignity has been gravely insulted. I’ll kill you!” Mo You cried, opening his jaws and beginning to gather energy as before.

Yan Chen’s face went deathly pale, and he turned to Ye Zihan for help.

But Ye Zihan turned away, whistling, ignoring his companion’s desperate gaze.

“Fine! You’re ganging up on me—just wait till I conquer a dragon of my own, then I’ll fight you both!” Yan Chen said, but as Mo You continued, he had no choice but to beg for mercy. He valued his life too much; if Mo You really attacked, death was all that awaited him.

“You may be spared death, but not punishment,” Mo You declared. Four beams of golden light shot from his claws, transforming into golden shackles on Yan Chen’s wrists and ankles.

“If you ever offend me again, these shackles will tighten until you apologize.”

Yan Chen immediately changed his tone. “Mo You, little brother… dearest little brother… please, can’t you take a joke?”

Mo You snorted and ignored him.

Yan Chen cursed under his breath, but as soon as he did, the shackles tightened sharply. He howled in pain, “Stop! My wrists are breaking! I was wrong—I know I was wrong!” Only after he had begged for forgiveness did the shackles loosen.

Yan Chen was left miserable and regretful, face full of woe. If only he hadn’t argued with Mo You—now he’d lost all dignity and would have to listen to him from now on…

Ye Zihan laughed heartily, though he wondered if perhaps things had gone too far. He called Mo You over and asked if the shackles could be removed.

“Heh… Big brother, I was just tricking him. The shackles only tighten a bit, and I just held it longer this time since I guessed Yan Chen would curse me. I just wanted to teach him a lesson,” Mo You replied mischievously.

Ye Zihan understood and decided not to expose him. He simply smiled at Yan Chen, who could only respond with helpless resignation.

As the two young men and the dragon exchanged jokes, the last of the Clearwater bandits were being wiped out. The three chiefs and ten lieutenants of Glimmer Stronghold approached Ye Zihan and Yan Chen together, clearly with something to say.