Chapter 209 — The Eight-Abyssal Fire Dragon
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 5 of 6
Suddenly, the hand in his palm gripped him hard, and from behind him a pale blue radiance rose. At first it seemed somewhat at odds with the cyan light, jarring and out of place, but very quickly the two lights merged into one and formed a stronger wall of light to withstand the dreadful crimson flames.
The man's shoulders, the man's back, standing silently before her; Lu Xueling held his hand tightly, and at the corner of her mouth, beneath that firelight filling the sky, there was a faint smile.
Then suddenly, the long, drawn-out incantation ceased, and for one instant it seemed everything had frozen in place: every flame, the firelight filling the sky, the figures of Ming Li and Lu Xueling fighting desperately to hold out, and the Eight Fierce Deities spinning without cease in midair.
Deep within the most searing flames, something slowly split open, and from a thin crack it widened bit by bit, from a gap about the size of a man to a hollow several times larger; and here amid the dazzling firelight filling the sky, that crevice seemed to be a darkness of unimaginable depth.
Then it seemed something deep within that crack cast a cold glance at the outside world.
A ferocity steeped in a despair that could drive men mad swept across every corner of the stone chamber in an instant.
The next moment, as if spurred into the maddest frenzy, all the flames burst forth in their most ardent brilliance, and the dragon's song climbed ever higher, like a revel that would never end; deep within the fire the dragon's cry rose with a roar, bearing terror and despair, as that ancient spirit deity descended into this place from another world.
A massive head slowly stretched forth, dazzling as the blazing sun and impossible to look at directly; it was unmistakably a giant ancient fire dragon bathed in the fierce flames, every part of it fire.
The enormous dragon head seemed to fill all of space on its own; Ming Li and Lu Xueling stared slack-jawed at this creature, so unassailable it almost surpassed all existence in this world, and even forgot to resist, holding off the surging flames only by instinct and the barriers their magic treasures had formed; yet that suffocating majesty seemed already to have declared their fate.
The Fire Dragon of the Eight Desolations!
In the ancient legends of the shaman tribes of the southern borderlands, the dreadful beast that destroys all things in the world, the ultimate summoned spirit of the Eight Fierce Mystic Fire Formation, had at last, after tens of millions of years, reappeared in the mortal world.
The giant dragon head turned slowly within the flames, making no move to destroy anything at once; enveloped in fire, from its enormous horns to the fangs in its mouth, it displayed a mysterious translucent rosy hue that only the most extreme heat could bring forth.
Each deep breath of the giant dragon set the entire stone chamber trembling violently, as if this space were, to a creature of such power, no more than a cramped little place; even now, it had not so much as brought its body out.
Behind the dragon head, the revolving halo of the Eight Fierce Deities seemed to have faded into the dazzling light of the Fire Dragon of the Eight Desolations; in that fickle glimmer, the great halo too seemed to tremble faintly.
Was it because of this fire dragon's despairing power?
Or was it the memories of ages past that clung to it?
No one knew.
Nor would anyone think of it any longer, for at this moment the giant fire dragon, which seemed to have slowly grown used to the strange sensations of its recent awakening, raised its blazing flames higher within the great translucent rosy eye sockets of its head, and the dragon head turned slowly with them.
A moment later, this terrifying dragon head was fixed directly upon the two figures huddled in the corner of the stone chamber, struggling desperately to hold out.
"Roar!"