Chapter Fifty-Five: The Three Clans Prepare for War, and the Cataclysm of Dragon and Phoenix Begins

On the river above, Nuwa and the young demoness could clearly see a small planet spinning in the void, unaffected by the long river of time and space, standing apart from all creation. As Earth reappeared, Chenxing’s emotions surged; his eyes grew wet. How many years had it been? He could no longer recall how long it had been since he’d last seen his family. Were his parents and younger sister well?

“This is the moment! Remember—no later than ten years, you must return,” Chenxing commanded with a resolute shout. With a wave of his hand, the two women transformed into beams of white light and plunged into the Earth.

Watching them vanish, Chenxing let out a long sigh of relief, hoping they would return as promised. He was not overly anxious, for he knew the two would at least bring his family and the fat man with them. Chenxing was well aware: the Dragon and Phoenix Cataclysm would erupt in at most a decade or so, and by then, Rahu’s Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation would be complete. This was the final chance. He could only hope that humanity on Earth would not stubbornly cling to self-destruction, lest they forfeit their last glimmer of hope.

He ventured nowhere else, but sat cross-legged in the chaos, watching the river of time and space flow ceaselessly, witnessing countless worlds born and destroyed, quietly waiting for the ten-year vow to reach its day.

...

In the Dragon Palace of the Eastern Sea, the Ancestral Dragon sat high upon his throne. Below, the Candle Dragon, his face livid with rage, recounted the events that had recently transpired.

For the past ten thousand years, tensions among the three great clans had escalated. To counter the mightiest of them—the Dragon Clan—the Phoenix and Qilin Clans had formed a defensive alliance. Yet, with each of the three clans coveting dominion over the primordial world, the alliance between the Phoenix and Qilin was far from unbreakable. To undermine this alliance, the Ancestral Dragon had sent the Candle Dragon, bearing several spirit treasures and countless rare resources, to the Immortal Volcano, seeking the hand of Princess Feng Ling’er of the Phoenix Clan for his own son.

He had assumed that, though his youngest son Long Tian had once offended Feng Ling’er, the boy was dead, and the interests of the great clans would take precedence. With the Dragons’ strength, surely the Phoenix Clan would agree to the union. Unexpectedly, as soon as the Candle Dragon broached the proposal, before the Phoenix Patriarch could speak, Feng Ling’er furiously expelled him. The Phoenix Patriarch, witnessing this, remained silent, tacitly approving her actions.

To be humiliated by a mere girl, when he was the second greatest warrior of the Dragons after the Ancestral Dragon—such disgrace filled the Candle Dragon with fury.

Yet, upon hearing the tale, the Ancestral Dragon did not erupt in anger as the Candle Dragon had anticipated. Instead, he bowed his head in silent contemplation.

Seeing this, the Candle Dragon exclaimed angrily, “Brother, will you allow the Phoenix Clan to humiliate our Dragon Clan so?”

The Ancestral Dragon sighed, a hint of unwillingness flickering across his face. He spoke gently, “Second Brother, now that you have reached the late quasi-saint stage, you should sense the workings of Heaven’s Dao. With the great calamity upon us, our three clans—having once provoked Heaven’s wrath during the Ferocious Beast Cataclysm—are destined to be its chief actors. I once believed that man could overcome destiny, that if the Dragons and Phoenixes were united through marriage, we might avert disaster. It seems it was all in vain.”

The Candle Dragon fell silent at these words, then straightened and declared boldly, “Brother, why worry so much? Under the Dao of Heaven, there must be a sliver of hope. If we can destroy the other two clans, surely we will rule the primordial world. Then you, Brother, can use our clan’s fortune to ascend as a saint; even Heaven’s Dao itself could not threaten us.”

Roused by the Candle Dragon’s boldness, the Ancestral Dragon laughed heartily. “You are right, Second Brother. Even if Heaven seeks our downfall, it shall pay a price. The Dragon Clan fears no battle! Send the order—the army will gather. In ten years, I will sweep away all our enemies in this world.”

“Yes, Brother!” the Candle Dragon shouted, turning to carry out his orders.

As the Candle Dragon departed, the Ancestral Dragon’s bravado faded. He sighed and vanished from the great hall.

Now, the primordial world was shrouded in a baleful aura. Many cultivators who had survived the Ferocious Beast Cataclysm fled to distant lands, knowing another calamity loomed. They wished only to escape, to preserve their own lives.

In the Immortal Volcano, the Phoenix Patriarch and the elders sat in the grand hall. After a while, an elder spoke, “Patriarch, why did you not accept the Dragons’ proposal and thus avoid this disaster?”

The Phoenix Patriarch shook his head and sighed. “We are now allied with the Qilin. If we accept the Dragons’ marriage proposal, the Qilin will surely attack us. The Qilin Patriarch would never permit us to join with the Dragons—he would strike first, leaving us no chance. It would be a battle to the bitter end.”

He paused, then continued, “The Dragons would only watch from the sidelines. Once both clans are weakened, they would wipe us out. As for their talk of marriage—hmph...” The Phoenix Patriarch snorted disdainfully.

“But now we have made enemies of the Dragons completely. The day of war cannot be far off,” the Great Elder sighed.

The Phoenix Patriarch sighed as well. “Perhaps this is the price we pay for having once offended Heaven’s Dao.”

At that moment, the Fifth Elder spoke up. “Since disaster is now inevitable, we must prepare early—preserve our bloodline, so the Phoenix Clan may one day rise again.”

Everyone nodded. The Great Elder hesitated. “Among your descendants, there are still two phoenix eggs as yet unhatched, unknown to outsiders. We could hide them deep within the Immortal Volcano. But Ling’er...”

Hearing Ling’er’s name, the Phoenix Patriarch shook his head with a sigh. “Ling’er is known to all three clans. They will not spare her. If we are defeated, they will surely root out all survivors—unless...”

He thought of his daughter’s friendship with Fangzhang Island. If the worst came to pass, perhaps Fangzhang Island would intervene.

The others understood his unspoken wish. But the Third Elder lamented, “Though Nuwa and the young demoness are quasi-saint experts, they are only at the late quasi-saint stage. Against the Ancestral Dragon, who has reached quasi-saint perfection, they may not be able to protect themselves.”

“Have you forgotten that man?” the Great Elder interjected. “He once beat both the Ancestral Dragon and the Qilin Patriarch. If he appears, he can certainly protect Ling’er.”

“But hasn’t he vanished for ten thousand years?” the Third Elder wondered aloud.

“Recently, someone traveling to the Qilin Clan claimed to have seen him at Mount Buzhou. Whether it’s true, I do not know,” said the Phoenix Patriarch, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Then let us hope Ling’er’s fate is strong,” the Great Elder sighed.

Just then, a streak of red light shot into the hall. The Phoenix Patriarch reached out, drawing it to his brow. After a moment’s meditation, he opened his eyes, a cold gleam flashing within. His voice was icy: “The Dragon Clan’s army is gathering. Prepare for battle!”

At once, the elders straightened and responded in unison, “Yes, Patriarch!” before filing out of the hall.

Meanwhile, at the foot of Mount Buzhou, the Qilin Clan’s headquarters, the Qilin Patriarch had also received news of the Dragons’ mobilization. With a furious roar, he began gathering his own forces. In an instant, chaos swept the entire primordial world, and everyone lived in dread.

No one noticed that atop Mount Buzhou itself, a burly figure stood at its highest peak, gazing out over the land. Surrounded by the swirling auras of calamity and slaughter, his eyes brimmed with endless sorrow and pity. A long, mournful sigh passed his lips before his figure vanished without a trace.

In the blink of an eye, several years passed. On Fangzhang Island, in front of the small building where Chenxing resided, many shape-shifted island creatures were setting out all manner of food and spirit fruits on a stone table in the grass. As the feast was being arranged, a group emerged from the building. Leading them was a fat man, who looked around and shouted in his raucous voice, “Xingzi, so this is where you live? The scenery’s amazing—you’re living the life! No way, I’m moving in here too!”

His shout startled a nearby little girl, transformed from a rabbit, who trembled and drooped her ears, looking at him with timid eyes.

Just then, a small figure ran over and gave the fat man a fierce kick. A childish voice scolded, “Fatty, can you stop yelling? You’re scaring the kids!”

It was a little girl, her features exquisite and cherubic, glaring at the fat man with mock ferocity.