Lord of the Desert

Chapter 530 Summoning the Dragon
All the wind stopped.

On the high platform erected by Ling Shui, Meng Hongxi, the Minister of Rites, dressed in a black sacrificial robe with wide sleeves fluttering in the wind, personally served as the master of ceremonies.

After kneeling and kowtowing three times, he turned to a kneeling position, solemnly raised his arms, and held a deep blue glazed "Dragon Throat Flute" in his palms. He concentrated his energy and blew it into the main hole.

The flute melody carried an indescribable reverberation, initially low and mournful, like wind entering a deep cave, gradually rising in pitch, transforming into a strange, neither metallic nor stone-like, continuous chant that pierced straight into the deep night.

In Hong Fan's spiritual perception, the spiritual energy of this world was calm and profound, forming a continuous curtain.

The sound of the flute spread and covered the sky and the fields. Thousands of bells on the shore started to move without wind. Their tiny vibrations merged into a strange hum, and the grand, hollow voice of the dragon-summoning multitude emanated from within it.

"Come here - come here -"

Accompanied by the low calls of the crowd, the lights, whether in the sky or on the water, all turned toward the center of the lake.

Hong Fan stood among the crowd, calling out softly while clutching his forearm, which was covered in goosebumps.

Time passed unnoticed, and suddenly all sounds ceased.

The vibration came from beneath my feet, faint yet clear.

Hong Fan recalled the earth rumbling he had been listening to day and night in Zi Wuchang.

On wrists and under eaves, all the gold, silver, bronze, and iron bells vibrated wildly on their own, their fine, dense tinkling sounds merging into a teeth-grinding buzzing.

Ordinary men and women like Aunt Liu had already knelt down, and even those with martial arts skills like Hong Fu and Hong She could not stand. Only a few strong people like Hong Fan, Hong Sheng, and Lü Yunshi could barely maintain their posture.

In the center of the lake, the dark, jade-like surface of water is compressed, sunken, and swirling.

A few breaths later, a huge whirlpool slowly formed, tearing and swallowing the lotus lanterns on the water's surface; water vapor on the lake surface evaporated into mist, gradually growing as high as mountains, obscuring the moonlight and gathering thousands of sky lanterns, forming a magnificent silver-white luminous body.

Hong Fan clenched his fists and held his breath.

He saw the vast expanse of water at the bottom of the fog rise up, and beneath it, a blurry golden mass rapidly rose, growing larger and larger...

The water surface broke.

First, a spine covered in golden scales suddenly arches out, with water cascading down from between its scales and grooves like a waterfall.

The mist was billowing.

Two sharp horns and a lithe, serpentine body were visible within the mist, and finally, at an altitude of over a kilometer, an enormous head emerged from the side of the fog.

At that moment, Hong Fan's mind went blank.

[The First Emperor...]

He stared intently at the scales of the most powerful god in the world—dark gold, with a deep, cold, ancient glow, like a silent star in the distant void.

The ancestral dragon's head tilted slightly, and one of its giant eyes opened a crack—its pupil was like molten metal, or like a standing flame, coldly sweeping over the ants crawling on the riverbank.

Hong Fan did not kneel, or rather, he forgot to kneel, just like the others who remained standing.

He traversed the sea of ​​stars, descending from the heavens; he taught all spirits to achieve divine status, shaped the civilization of humankind in this world, and even laid the foundation for the entire world's格局 (geju, a concept encompassing overall structure, pattern, and overall structure)...

[Among the Purple Impermanence, I once saw the Thousand-Eyed Demon God who shook the world, and ultimately, he too died because of his will.]

Hong Fan breathed heavily, lost in thought, and then felt his mind begin to boil.

Instinctively introspecting.

The Dragon Soul Tree's branches and leaves flaunted themselves with unprecedented intensity, golden light flowed across its roots and trunk, and fruits took shape among the branches and leaves.

Its speed was like lightning; by the time Hong Fan could react, two Dragon Soul Fruits had already formed.

The First Emperor reacted immediately.

His eyes, which were slightly closed, suddenly opened, as if two suns were shining in the sky, illuminating the mountains and rivers in the night.

The spiritual energy of heaven and earth is locked away.

The Dragon Soul Tree's absorption was interrupted.

The silent pressure crashed down like a heavy hammer!
The fog dissipated, the wind howled, or rather, the entire atmosphere trembled in an instant. Hong Fan's hair ornaments and hairpins flew off, his long hair was pulled straight back, and he barely managed to stand on his own, while many other mortals tumbled into a heap.

The martial artists belatedly realized what was happening and hurriedly knelt down.

Hong Fan followed their example, but his eyes, which were now hidden behind the ground, were completely unfocused.

Since his transmigration, he had never felt such shock and fear as he did now, to the point that he had to rely on the intervention of the Spirit of No Thought to control his body's reactions under such extreme emotional changes.

He wasn't afraid of the First Emperor's wrath.

The Dragon Summoning Festival is held every year, and historical records show that the Ancestral Dragon appeared in the world many times. I have never heard of anyone being killed because they knelt late or were disrespectful.

The problem is that after spending six years together day and night, Hong Fan knows all too well what kind of target can have their life essence absorbed by the Dragon Soul Tree.

dead.

Completely dead.

So, the First Emperor is dead?!

The power of the gods is unpredictable, and Hong Fan knew that now was not the time to think about these things, but he simply couldn't control himself.

The Ancestral Dragon is dead; what has appeared in the lake can only be a corpse. So what is controlling the dragon corpse? And when did this happen...?

Under the intervention of the spirit without thought, Hong Fan's heartbeat, breathing, and even sweat secretion were kept as consistent as possible with Hong Sheng beside him.

No one knew the fear in his heart.

The situation just now was that the mindless Dragon Soul Tree was feasting on "ownerless things" when it was noticed by the "thing" behind the dragon corpse, which then overturned the feast.

There were two Martial Saints and several Celestial Beings present, but none of them were qualified to appease the Ancestral Dragon.

Fortunately, the "Ancestral Dragon" was compassionate and forgiving, and did not continue to act out. It only swept its golden eyes around a few times before sinking into the earth's eye as if nothing had happened, leaving behind a huge vortex that did not subside for a long time.

The moonlight shone down again.

The broken remnants of the lotus lantern floated uncertainly on the silvery waves.

Everyone was still reeling from the earth-shattering power they had just witnessed, except for Hong Fan, who was completely disoriented and lost his composure.

Perhaps due to excessive evaporation, a light rain soon began to fall in Shenjing.

At exactly 10 PM, the group returned to the mansion despite the rain, laughing and chatting contentedly as they reminisced about the good fortune and auspiciousness of the night—the gust of wind was even mistaken for a little joke played by the Ancestral Dragon and his kin.

Hong Fan, feigning deep shock, retreated to his bedroom early on.

The scent of sandalwood wafted through the air, and countless pieces of information and memories were swirling in his mind.

"Ha, you were indeed granted your destiny by Him... Hong Fan, no matter how clever you are, you're nothing more than an accomplice to evil!"

When Xiao Twelve and Xiao Thirteen spoke these words, their faces were filled with hatred, and they vaguely displayed the fanaticism of martyrs.

"How could anyone in the world know that the First Emperor was different!"

Xiao Tanghuang gritted his teeth and spoke, his hair standing on end.

"Within the Dragon Palace of the Divine Capital, the corrupt officials of the current dynasty are colluding with the Thousand-Eyed Demon God to commit heinous acts! For the past two hundred years, all our actions have been taken out of necessity..."

"Since the Zerg have defied the gods this time, why doesn't the imperial court send more Yuan Magnetic Celestials to participate in the war?"

In the Shengzhou camp, he asked himself this question, but Xiao Chu avoided answering, his final steps heavy with worry.

Yes, with the First Emperor gone, the Tree God's personal guards naturally have nothing to fear from divine retribution; but with Zi Wuchang still alive, the Thousand-Eyed Demon God must be dead...

Hong Fan's mind was in turmoil, and he couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine.

Living in the capital for so long, who could have imagined that the prosperous world before them was actually teetering on the brink of collapse?
So, do the Emperor and the King of Zhenshan know about this? What about Guan Qimai? Regardless of who's behind the dragon corpse, having my essence drained will surely lead to a city-wide search for me...

Thinking of this matter, Hong Fan felt a strong sense of urgency and wanted to leave Shenjing immediately, but he was worried that leaving overnight would leave too much of a trace. In the end, he sat by the window, letting the rain drip until dawn.

(End of this chapter)