Chapter 2190 - The End of Wangchu
Chapter 2190 – The End of Wangchu
UNedited chapter – Rubble
Since Long Wangchu’s birth, this was the first time he had ever set foot within the borders of a Kingdom of God.
It wasn’t that the Dragon Lord was unwilling—it was simply that he couldn’t bear to bring this fool along and make a spectacle of himself before the kingdoms of god.
Within a Kingdom of God, there were virtually no traces of abyssal dust. To Long Wangchu, every wisp of air here felt like an immortal dew that soothed the soul itself. It caused him to breathe with almost reverent caution.
On the way to the Divine Son Palace, he couldn’t help but behold the grandeur of a Kingdom of God with eyes that kept darting about, and a throat that squirmed almost without pause. When he stood in front of the Divine Son Palace, and the gates swung open, his eyes widened involuntarily, and he could not close them for a long while.
The ancient wall carvings, shimmering with a strange, dark glow, radiated the aura of several types of rare abyssal crystals—most of which he could not even identify. Pure abyssal crystals, which within his race were reserved only for the high-ranking dragon descendants, were merely used as stepping stones here. Literally. The paved path stretched as far as the eyes could see.
Looking up, he saw magnificent canopies intricately woven with the Dreamweaver Kingdom of God’s crest; some hanging down, and some billowing above the high-ceilinged hall. The largest one stretched a full three hundred meters in width. Not only that, the profound jade silk used to weave these canopies was all too familiar to him.
Only he, the young heir of the dragon race, was prestigious enough to wear robes adorned with such a luxurious fabric after all.
Long Wangchu instinctively ducked his head, and unconsciously clenched the sleeve at his fingertips.
The dragon race… in fact, the entire Ancestral Dragon Mountain Range rarely saw even a single strand of green, yet this place was almost drowning in emerald greenery and adorned with all manners of exotic, luxurious flowers. Attendants could be seen moving through the space here and there, all of them dressed in opulent attire and possessing an air of exceptional refinement.
As the young heir of the dragon race, he undoubtedly enjoyed the finest resources his race had to offer. Though he was aware of the prosperity of the Kingdoms of God, he had never imagined that the gap between the dragon race and the kingdoms—between himself and the Dreamweaver Divine Son—would be so vast.
It was as if they belonged to two entirely different planes.
Behind him, Long Qianxin stood with his back straight and his expression unflinching, though inwardly he was sighing repeatedly.
“Senior Dragon Attendant, Brother Wangchu, you have traveled a long distance.”
A clear, resonant voice echoed in the air as Yun Che strode forward with an exceptionally warm smile on his face. Wherever he went, attendants and guards halted in their tracks and bowed low to greet him with reverence. They could tell that it was a kind of humility infused with genuine, heartfelt respect… For as they bowed, there was not a trace of anxiety or fear on their faces—only smiles that needed no restraint.
Only then did Long Wangchu tear his gaze away from the various breathtaking and dazzling sights to look at Yun Che approaching him… but this time, the look in his eyes had changed dramatically.
Overwhelmed by everything he had seen, heard, and felt along his way, he could no longer recall the etiquette Long Zhimin had repeatedly emphasized. Instinctively, he took a step forward, bowed deeply at the waist, raised his hand in a gesture of respect. At the same time, the corners of his mouth curled into a smile he felt he ought to display.
He was smiling too hard, though—so hard that the lines at the corners of his eyes were squeezed into fawning creases, so hard that the face that should have radiated the majesty of the future Dragon Lord instead wore an expression of utter fluster and obsequiousness.
“T-this one… p-pays his respects to… Divine Son Yuan.”
A momentary, even violent twitch rippled across the corner of Long Qianxin’s eyes, despite his great efforts to remain composed throughout the journey.
To think that the heir of the dragons, upon meeting a peer, had actually uttered the words, “Pays his respects.” Coupled with his “grotesque” behavior, the Dragon Lord would likely have spat out a mouthful of old blood on the spot if he were present.
Yun Che seemed startled for a moment before resuming his smile. “Brother Wangchu, you are a distinguished guest who has traveled from afar; there is absolutely no need for this level of formality. Though I am a Dreamweaver, I am also a half-dragon. I am truly delighted by your visit, Brother Wangchu, so please do not be so formal and make yourself at home.”
As he spoke, he gently lifted Long Wangchu’s arm with a wisp of profound energy.
Long Wangchu naturally noticed his own peculiar demeanor. He let his hands drop and hurriedly adjusted his expression. However, his back remained slightly hunched, and his face still bore an unmistakable, deep-seated sense of inferiority. “You’re too kind, Divine Son Yuan… hehe… too kind.”
Behind Yun Che, Meng Zhiyuan silently bowed her head. It took her nearly every ounce of her willpower to suppress the urge to roll her eyes.
Long Qianxin’s chest rose and fell as he took a step forward and bowed slightly. He said, “Divine Son Yuan, I am deeply humbled to have caused you such an inconvenience.”
Yun Che smiled faintly. “Please don’t say that, Senior Dragon Attendant. Brother Wangchu’s presence here is truly helping me to fulfill my master’s dying wish[1], so how could I possibly consider this an inconvenience? Please, come to the guest hall so I may show you the hospitality of a host.”
Long Qianxin replied, “I appreciate your kindness, Divine Son Yuan. However, my duty is merely to escort Wangchu. Now that he is by your side, I should return at once to report back and put the Dragon Lord’s mind at ease.”
Before Yun Che could offer words of retention, Long Qianxin cupped his hands. There was a flash of profound light, and a massive, pale white box that was shaped from bones came into view. Inside were dozens of draconic treasures, each radiating a distinct glow and intertwined with an intensely potent draconic aura.
“These are modest gifts the Dragon Lord had personally prepared. The dragon race’s resources are scarce, so these items are likely of little value to you. They are merely a token of gratitude from the entire dragon race. I hope that you will find them pleasing.”
Yun Che’s gaze swept over the items. Then, he reached out and gently picked up a soft armor that was covered in dragon scales, exclaiming in admiration. “Its aura is ancient, yet it still holds a latent might. It must be the scales left behind by some powerful Ancestral Dragon of the past. I shall gladly accept this gift as a show of complete acceptance of the dragons’ deep goodwill. However, this is enough; anything more would only harm the bond between me and the dragon race.”
His eyes and smile were utterly pure, free of any trace of contempt toward Long Wangchu’s pathetic state. His words and actions were also exceptionally sincere, devoid of any condescending air of one about to bestow an unprecedented favor.
Long Qianxin sighed inwardly but did not press the matter. He withdrew the rest of the gifts and bowed once more. “As you wish, Divine Son Yuan. I shall return now to report back to the Dragon Lord. I leave Wangchu in your care.”
“Please inform the Dragon Lord that in as little as a month, or at most half a year, Brother Wangchu will surely be reborn,” Yun Che said with a gentle smile. “In the name of the son of the Dreamless Divine Regent, I swear to ensure Brother Wangchu’s safety[2].”
Long Qianxin smiled faintly. “We dragons may not trust ourselves, and still we would never doubt Divine Son Yuan or the Dreamweaver Kingdom of God. Farewell!”
Just like that, Long Qianxin took his leave, departing so decisively and hurriedly it was as if he was afraid his old face would be dragged through the mud along with Long Wangchu’s if he lingered for even a moment longer.
Upon leaving the Dreamweaver Kingdom of God, Long Qianxin looked behind him and let out a long sigh… Long Wanchu had ruled the dragon race with an iron fist, fearing nothing and doing whatever the hell he wanted. Yet standing beside Yun Che, whether in bearing, speech, or demeanor, the difference between them was as big as the gap between heaven and earth; as vast as the distance between the clouds and the mud.
“Brother Wangchu, please.”
Yun Che stepped aside and raised his hand, his smile as gentle as a breeze skimming over spring water without stirring a single ripple… no one could glimpse the terrifying undercurrent hidden beneath that smile.
“Uh… Divine Son Yuan, please go first.”
Long Wangchu struggled to recall the etiquette the Dragon Lord had instructed him about, yet his spine remained perpetually hunched, as if an invisible force were constantly pressing him down, or he had forgotten how to stand straight.
“Hahahaha!” Yun Che laughed heartily. “I’ve heard Brother Wangchu rarely ventures beyond the dragons’ domain, and it would seem that is indeed the case. This is my private palace, Brother Wangchu. You need not be at all self-conscious… Never mind, come with me, Brother Wangchu.”
“Okay.” Long Wangchu nodded, attempting a smile that was accommodating but still true to the dignity of the dragons. “This is my first visit to a Kingdom of God, and I must admit that I feel a bit out of place. I hope the Divine Son Yuan… will not hold it against me.”
Yun Che gave a slight nod and led the way forward.
Long Wangchu lightened his steps and unconsciously toned down his aura as he followed behind, fearful of causing any offense. His gaze then shifted slightly to Meng Zhiyuan, who was walking beside them. When his eyes met her flawless, delicate profile, he found himself momentarily transfixed, unable to look away for a long time.
Meng Zhiyuan kept her eyes straight ahead, a faint smile on her face, though her slender fingers were already clenched slightly. In her mind, she was weighing whether to invade his dragon soul and give him a nasty trip right there on the spot…
Never mind. Better not to cause trouble for Young Master.
Upon reaching the guest hall, Yun Che stopped in his tracks and turned back. “Brother Wangchu, you’ve traveled a long way and must be exhausted. I’ll have a banquet prepared at once. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask—and by all means, don’t be shy.”
Long Wangchu felt both flattered and overwhelmed, but for once, he didn’t lose sight of the matter at hand[3]. He quickly replied, “No, no, there is no need to go to such lengths, Divine Son Yuan. Before I left, that damn old… er, I mean, father repeatedly urged me that the only thing I must do on this journey is to focus my mind on bearing the dragon bone and dragon marrow you will soon bestow upon me. Other than that, I must not cause you any trouble.”
Yun Che nodded slightly, appearing deep in thought, before replying slowly, “I fully understand Senior Dragon Lord’s concerns and urgency. However, once the transfer and inheritance of the dragon marrow and dragon soul begins, you may have to remain within the profound formation for several months, Brother Wangchu. You won’t be able to leave for even an instant if you want to.”
“I know that, I know,” Long Wangchu hurriedly replied. The persistent sense of inferiority enveloping him was making him feel thoroughly uncomfortable. He spoke cautiously, “But if you have no pressing matters at the moment, might it be possible… might it be possible to proceed directly, Divine Son Yuan…?”
A look of resignation flashed across Yun Che’s face as he nodded. “In that case… very well.”
“Zhiyuan, close the hall doors. We shall receive no visitors today.”
Meng Zhiyuan watched as Yun Che led Long Wangchu into the cultivation chamber. The moment the barrier closed completely, she could no longer contain herself and let out a low, furious cry of resentment. “Is Young Master seriously sacrificing himself to accommodate a pathetic worm like him?”
“Heir of the dragon race? He’s not even worth a single little toe of the Young Master… Ahh, it’s driving me crazy! It’s driving me crazy!!”
“It was Young Master’s decision. Don’t get so worked up.” Shangguan Helu consoled her softly… though she herself was seething with indignation.
“But I am! Even if Young Master said it himself, I’m still furious!” Meng Zhiyuan stomped her foot heavily. After a long moment, she muttered under her breath, “I suppose only Young Master could be so foolish and kind-hearted in this whole world.”
The space was completely cut off from the outside world. Thanks to the barrier personally set up by Meng Kongchan, not even a single ray of light or a wisp of aura could escape.
Yun Che stopped in his tracks, staring at the empty space ahead… A sudden crack appeared in his calm expression and threatened to spread, but just as quickly, it was gone in the next instant.
Behind him, Long Wangchu was so overcome with excitement that his hands and feet were trembling. Long Zhiming had made it crystal clear to him: the dragon marrow and dragon soul that Yun Che carried were so powerful that even he, the Dragon Lord, found them terrifying. Completing the succession would undoubtedly grant him a complete rebirth.
In the future, there was even a strong possibility that he would surpass Long Zhiming and once again reach the Dragon God Realm—a level of power the dragon race had long since lost.
“Divine Son Yuan, I am ready. We can begin at any moment…”
Despite his excitement and eagerness, he did not forget to offer a compliment: “I truly appreciate your trouble, Divine Son Yuan.”
“It seems Brother Wangchu is truly eager to begin,” Yun Che said, his eyes narrowing slowly, a hint of inscrutability mingling with his smile. “How convenient—I feel the same way.”
He raised his hand, and a crimson light flashed. A small profound formation appeared before them, radiating a faint yet divine crimson glow.
“Brother Wangchu, please go ahead.” Yun Che stepped aside.
Long Wangchu’s throat convulsed violently as he stared intently at the strange profound formation before him. He looked as if he was gazing upon a door of fate that would completely rewrite his life.
He had never seen such an extraordinary crimson profound light in his life. He could vaguely sense a kind of spatial aura from it, but it was also vastly different from the spatial divine power he knew.
It was mysterious, unfathomable, and mixed with an unfamiliarity that transcended his understanding. Not only did it arouse any suspicion in him, it only caused the fluttering excitement in his heart to surge even higher.
He took a deep, sharp breath, forcefully steadied his mind, and stepped into the crimson profound formation with a relatively composed demeanor.
And indeed, he had truly stepped through a “door of fate”.
The crimson formation flickered, and the dimensions shifted abruptly. Before Long Wangchu could react, the world before him had already turned a gloomy gray.
Thick, abyssal dust surged toward him like a nightmare, enveloping his body and spiritual senses like layer upon layer of inescapable, heavy mud.
His pupils dilated, and he was stunned and disoriented, as if suddenly plunged into a nightmare. “This… this… this is…”
In the dimness, he caught Yun Che’s figure out of the corner of his eye. Snapping out of his terror, he spun around and cried out, “Wh—what happened? Where is this… why does it look so much like… the Endless Fog…”
His voice, initially shrill with terror, gradually weakened until it finally faded away.
The astonishment in his pupils did not dissipate quickly despite finding Yun Che; instead, it grew bigger and bigger as his pupils contracted.
Yun Che was staring intently at him. He was still smiling, but accompanying that smile was an unimaginably sinister chill—so bone-chilling it felt as though it had seeped up from the bottom of an endless Abyss of Death.
That terrifying chill penetrated his dragon’s eyes and pierced straight into his body and soul, causing every drop of blood in his veins to freeze solid in an instant.
“You…”
Long Wangchu’s lips trembled violently, but he could barely utter a single syllable before his voice failed him entirely. It felt as though an invisible, icy, devilish hand—extending from Yun Che’s eyes—had suddenly clamped down on his throat, choking him.
No more pretense was needed; no more patience or restraint. Raging hatred tore wildly at every fiber of Yun Che’s being, causing his blood to surge out of control, and his hanging hands to tremble uncontrollably.
The full weight of Yun Che’s hatred was so intense that even Li Shuo felt a soul-piercing chill, let alone Long Wangchu.
The corners of Yun Che’s mouth curled upward bit by bit. His pupils, dyed the color of an abyss by hatred and reflecting Long Wangchu’s deathly pale face. Finally, his parted lips uttered a slow, deliberate voice:
“Long… Wang… Chu…”
“Welcome… to… hell!”
1. Oh yes, he’s dying to meet the wonderful lad and teach him the meaning of dying. ☜
2. Ohhhhhhh mah gawd. Remember, he’s not the actual son of the DDR, so swearing it this way is just… gaaaaaaaaaaawd if only I am half as petty and hateful as Yun Che is. ☜
3. The one time he should’ve let go completely and went bonkers…. ☜