Chapter Twenty-One: Battling the Flood Dragon

Seeing the crab general being pressed so hard that it could only blow bubbles helplessly, rendered completely immobile and wretched, Yang Nan grinned, “Well now, Lord Crab, it seems your skills haven’t reached your eyes just yet. If I were to jab your eyes with this Ice Sword... heh heh, what do you think would happen?”

Hearing the menace in Yang Nan’s tone, the crab general shivered with dread that ran from the crown of his shell to the very tips of his claws. If his eyes were blinded, he would be nothing but a blind crab—what kind of lord could he be then?

“My good young priest, why don’t you let me go? I’ll give you back your fish maiden, and from now on, we can be friends. What do you say?” The prismatic divine light from the little copper coin weighed on him like a mountain—no matter how he struggled, the crab general couldn’t escape. The pressure on his back grew heavier and heavier, as though he’d be crushed to dust the next moment. This seven-colored divine light was naturally the bane of demons and monsters; with his modest skills, how could the crab general possibly break free?

Ferocious as he was, he wasn’t without sense; he quickly saw the necessity of compromise.

The divine light from the little copper coin couldn’t last much longer—once it was spent, he’d have no way to restrain this crab any longer. Yang Nan was fully aware of this, and though anxious, he continued to smile, “Did you just call me ‘little priest’? Hmm?”

The more Yang Nan smiled, the more the crab general’s heart quailed. He certainly didn’t wish to be blinded or ground to crab paste, nor did he relish the thought of having his claws hacked off. He hurriedly said, “No, no, you’re a true immortal! My honored immortal, please have mercy and let me go!” He’d hoped to throw Yang Nan off his back while the young man was distracted, but the divine light only grew stronger, its terrifying aura nearly smothering him. The crab general’s fear reached its peak.

Yang Nan traced the edge of the Ice Sword back and forth before the crab general’s protruding eyes, the icy blade threatening to stab into them with every motion. Terrified, the crab general shut his eyes, babbling, “Venerable priest! Honored immortal! I failed to recognize greatness—please, be magnanimous and spare me!”

“Weren’t you just trying to throw me off?” Yang Nan pressed the sword’s tip to the crab’s eyelid, and a slight flick could have gouged it out, sending the crab’s soul nearly fleeing in terror.

“Master, I yield! From now on, I, Old Crab, am at your command.” A wise man knows when to submit; this divine light was too formidable. The crab general was thoroughly cowed. Mortal priests were never something minor demons like him could withstand—yielding to a cultivator was no disgrace.

Seeing the once-arrogant crab general thoroughly subdued, Yang Nan sheathed his sword with a laugh. “So you’ve submitted? Let me press a bit more, just to make sure. If you’re not breathless, how can I believe you?” With that, he urged the little copper coin to release more divine light, pressing the crab general down until he groaned in agony, blowing bubbles and nearly suffocating.

Realizing this youth was ruthless and his treasures mysterious—the ordeal he’d just suffered still fresh—the crab general was utterly intimidated. He could only plead, “Master, please, no more! I truly yield, I truly yield!”

‘At least I’ve finally subdued this stubborn crab,’ Yang Nan thought as he stood, noting the copper coin’s divine light was now much dimmer after the effort. He counted himself lucky.

He then ordered the crab general to reveal his true form and carry him to slay the water dragon spirit. The crab, face creased in misery, dared not disobey. He transformed into an enormous eight-clawed crab, over ten feet long and two feet tall. Yang Nan vaulted onto his back, tapped the iron-hard shell with the Ice Sword, and laughed, “Well? Isn’t it time for you to carry me to face the water dragon?”

Hearing the clink of the sword, the crab general shivered and dared not delay. He spread his eight claws wide and charged into the fray.

The water dragon spirit, relying on the fine material of his dragon-horned spear, clashed with Chiyang in martial skill. Yet Chiyang was a master of the sword, and by swordsmanship alone, had already forced the dragon to break out in a cold sweat. The dragon’s saving grace was his impenetrable scales—without them, he’d have perished at Chiyang’s hands already.

Seeing his spear skills lagging, the dragon spirit hurled his weapon, conjuring thousands of spears that rained upon Chiyang. Chiyang saw the monster resorting to magic and spat forth five radiant red swords, clashing with the myriad spears.

Though the dragon had achieved mastery, only a fraction of his conjured spears were real. Chiyang, not greedy for merit, wielded his five life-bound swords to cleave through the illusions, shielding himself. The battle raged when, suddenly, a gigantic crab crashed in, clawing at the dragon spirit without a word.

Startled, the dragon spirit cried, “Brother, what are you doing? Why attack your own kin?”

Before the crab general could reply, Yang Nan, perched on his shell, sneered, “I’m the one fighting you, old river eel! Your brother has seen the light and surrendered to me. Why don’t you lay down your spear and yield? Who knows, perhaps I’ll spare you.” Having tamed the crab general, Yang Nan was in high spirits and teased the dragon spirit for sport.

Arrogant and hot-tempered, the dragon spirit fumed, “So, you yellow-haired brat, dare to treat me, Lord of the Hun River, as your lackey? Do you take the water tribes for nothing? Brother! You are a true lord of the waters—how can you bow to this mortal? Come, join me and slay these two wild priests!”

He called anxiously, but the crab general, still smarting from his punishment, with the ruthless young master on his back, dared not disobey. He feigned deafness and attacked the dragon spirit with renewed vigor.

Chiyang, witnessing Yang Nan’s ability to subdue the crab, marveled inwardly. Hearing the dragon spirit’s frantic shouts, he laughed, “Save your breath! Your spears are gone—worry about yourself!” His five swords pierced through the illusions, revealing the true dragon-horned spear, and he pressed the attack, shattering illusory spears with each stroke.

Realizing he was at a disadvantage, the dragon spirit showed no fear. “If not for this crab’s help, you two weak priests could never hope to defeat me—dream on!” he bellowed, recalling his spear and invoking his true demonic arts. At once, waves surged and the river boiled, a draconic roar shaking the heavens. From the riverbed emerged a massive blue flood dragon, over a hundred feet long.

This wicked dragon, with ox eyes, horse’s nose, serpent’s body, and a fish’s tail, was indistinguishable from a true dragon, save for the absence of claws. Majestic and fearsome, it churned the water with a flick of its tail, sending up towering waves. After centuries of cultivation, a new blue horn had grown from its brow. Had the other horn not been broken, he might have ascended to become a true dragon already. Now, twisting his massive body, the dragon thrashed the river, rolling up wave after wave while laughing, “Two greenhorn priests dare to challenge me at the riverbed? Let me show you the might of overturning the seas and rivers!”

With that, he invoked his magic, growing larger and longer, rampaging beneath the river. Hundreds of years of conjuring storms now unleashed, he set the waters surging several stories high, making the riverbed quake.

Chiyang knew this was bad. In the depths, his fire arts were suppressed, making it impossible to approach the dragon in his true form amid the raging currents.

Yang Nan, furious at the dragon’s havoc—knowing the giant waves would endanger those onshore—ordered the crab to charge. The crab knew he was no match, but could only grit his teeth and obey, closing his eyes and rushing forward.

As the dragon conjured his storm, he saw the crab coming and bellowed, “Good! Come, then!” He spat jets of water that forced the crab to retreat, while Yang Nan, on his back, drew forth the Scroll of the Sages and fixed his position with golden light. The dragon’s massive jaws crunched the crab’s shell, but the crab, desperate, broke free and leaped close to the dragon. Yang Nan jumped onto the dragon’s body, which was as broad as a road, and sprinted to the head, stabbing wildly with the Ice Sword.

The dragon, finding the young priest on his head, roared and thrashed in the water. Yang Nan, unable to harm him directly, could only shield himself with weak divine light, but against the mighty dragon, the pressure was insufficient. He alternated between saintly and divine light, water roaring in his ears as the dragon sometimes breached the surface, sometimes dove to the depths, intent on shaking Yang Nan off for an easy meal.

As the two grappled, flooding broke out along the banks, sweeping away mansions on both sides of the river. People glimpsed the dragon surfacing and, recognizing the river lord’s wrath, burned incense and prayed from afar.

The dragon sped through the riverbed, Yang Nan clinging tightly to the lone horn with one hand while stabbing at the dragon’s eye with the Ice Sword. By chance, the blade pierced the dragon’s eye, and with a howl of agony, the beast leapt from the river, soaring into the clouds and flailing madly.

High in the sky, Yang Nan’s heart pounded. Surrounded by churning clouds, he looked down to find himself thousands of feet above the ground. A fall from such a height would leave nothing of him. In terror, he summoned all his protective light and clung to the dragon’s horn for dear life—the copper coin’s light was spent; only the Scroll of the Sages remained.

Blinded in one eye, the dragon twisted through the heavens before finally slowing. Yang Nan, peering ahead, saw glimmering waves and vast, misty waters—they had arrived at a great lake stretching as far as the eye could see.

The evil dragon cried out, “Ancestor, where are you? Come save your child!” His roars echoed, and Yang Nan’s heart sank—the dragon wasn’t fleeing blindly, but seeking help in this lake! Desperate, Yang Nan stabbed at the other eye, but the dragon, wary now, dodged every blow, descending toward the lake below.

Suddenly, a golden dragon swept in from the distance. At the sight, Yang Nan’s heart turned cold. Could this golden dragon be the evil dragon’s kin, come to his aid? Disaster loomed.

While Yang Nan hesitated, the evil dragon, too, was uncertain. The golden dragon roared and abruptly transformed into a dazzling sword, plunging straight through the dragon’s head. The blade was incomparably sharp, its momentum unstoppable, cleaving the wicked dragon from crown to tail in a spray of blood. The dragon died without so much as a grunt.

Startled out of his wits, Yang Nan saw the sword flash past his face, killing the dragon in an instant—he himself barely escaped being skewered.

With the dragon dead, its body fell from the sky. Yang Nan, terrified, howled as he hurtled downward—falling from such a height, even into water, would be disastrous. Just then, another golden dragon appeared, this one bearing a woman in white upon its head. Seeing Yang Nan shrieking and flailing, she frowned and made a gentle gesture. The golden sword burst with radiance, catching the dragon’s corpse and setting it gently onto an island in the lake.