My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

"Dragon... Dragon King! It's a real dragon! The real dragon has manifested!" said one of the clan elders beside Chen Laizi.

The usually serious and rigid old man was the first to break down, crying out in a hoarse voice and kneeling on the ground.

He kowtowed frantically towards the "dragon shadow," and blood instantly appeared on his forehead.

This sound acted like a fuse, igniting even greater panic.

"It's a real dragon! We've angered a real dragon!"

"Master Huang killed the dragon's sons and grandsons! Those were guardian deities!"

"It's over... the river is going to overflow! The village is going to be gone!"

Crying, screaming, collapsing, kneeling... the little courage that had just been ignited by "exorcising demons".

Before such terrifying divine power as the "manifestation of a true dragon," it was crushed to pieces.

A century of accumulated power, deeply ingrained beliefs and fears, are retaliating in an even more ferocious form.

Many people didn't not want to escape, but their legs felt like lead, and they couldn't move.

They could only watch helplessly as the dragon's shadow, "as mighty as a prison," trembled with fear.

The young men who jumped into the water were terrified and scrambled to escape to the shore.

One of them slipped and fell back into the water, choking on several mouthfuls of murky river water, and burst into tears in fright.

The little monkey was even worse off. Being closest to the center of the river, he was enveloped by the oppressive aura of the "dragon shadow" and found it difficult to even breathe.

A chilling fear shot from the soles of my feet to the top of my head, leaving me too weak to even struggle. I floated in the water like a rag doll, my eyes glazed over.

The smugness and color had long since faded from Huang Youde's face, replaced by a deathly despair.

His legs trembled like leaves in the autumn wind, and with a clang, the peach wood sword he regarded as a magical artifact fell into the mud.

His lips trembled as he looked at the majestic and radiant "true dragon" in the sky, with only one thought echoing wildly in his mind.

Oh no! We've kicked a hornet's nest! This isn't some river monster; it's clearly... a real dragon!

They actually used gunpowder to blast its waters, and then claimed that they had exterminated a demon... This is blasphemy! It's an unforgivable crime!

He was filled with deep regret.

If I had known this godforsaken place actually existed, I wouldn't have come no matter how much money I was offered!

Forget about making a name for yourself and making a fortune; now they've all become death warrants!

The "True Dragon's" cold, golden vertical pupils seemed to have locked onto him, and the boundless fear almost made him lose control of his bladder.

The faint joy that Li Laoshuan and Zhou Shi had just felt was instantly extinguished by the terrifying power of the "true dragon" appearing in the world, like a candle flickering in the wind.

The two embraced, gazing at the sacred yet ferocious dragon shadow in the sky, their eyes filled with utter despair and resignation.

So... so it really was the Dragon King.

Resist? How ridiculous.

Overwhelmed by the enormous sound and fear, Xiaolian, already weak, fainted in her mother's arms.

Chen Maocai stood at the back of the crowd, his body trembling slightly from the pressure of the "dragon shadow," but this trembling was filled with more excitement and the thrill of being in control.

Behold! This is true power! This is the foundation upon which the Chen family rules Xiahe Village!

He suppressed the urge to laugh out loud, maintaining a solemn and awe-inspiring expression on his face, while the bone whistle in his sleeve burned with heat.

The timing... was just a little off.

We need to add fuel to the fire so that fear can be completely transformed into absolute obedience to the "oracle".

Just then, the "real dragon" in the sky seemed unsatisfied with the ants' fearful reaction.

Or perhaps they were completely enraged by Huang Youde's "demon-slaying" act.

It did not launch an attack immediately, but instead let out another, longer and more majestic dragon roar.

This time, the dragon's roar seemed to carry a strange rhythm, and the river water boiled in response.

It didn't explode; instead, countless tiny water droplets detached from the river surface and rose into the air.

Under the reflection of the seven-colored mist surrounding the "Dragon Shadow", it transformed into a shower of pale golden light that shimmered and drifted across the sky!

The light rain fell on the villagers, causing no harm, but bringing a heavy, suffocating divine pressure.

And a profound, soul-searching question, seemingly emanating from an ancient covenant:

"Those who blaspheme...shall be executed!"

"Sacrifice...to continue!"

"Disobey...and fall forever!"

This was not a real sound, but an echo that resonated directly in everyone's hearts!

Combined with the rain of light and the cold gaze of the "True Dragon," the effect was outstanding.

Many people were completely paralyzed, their eyes vacant, only filled with instinctive fear.

Li Laoshuan held the unconscious Xiaolian tightly, while Zhou Shi lay on the ground, her shoulders heaving violently.

She couldn't utter a single cry; utter despair gripped her throat.

Huang Youde huddled in the mud, wishing he could bury himself in it.

All that remained in his heart was endless regret and prayer that the "true dragon" would not notice him, the "chief culprit."

In this deathly silence where the collective spirit was on the verge of complete collapse, and no one dared to move or speak out—

A figure slowly rose from the kneeling crowd.

It was village chief Chen Maocai.

His movements as he stood up were somewhat slow, even carrying a perfectly measured "difficulty," as if he were also bearing immense divine pressure.

His face was pale, and fine beads of sweat even seeped from his forehead, but his eyes were unusually firm, even carrying a tragic sense of "if not me, then who?"

He first bowed deeply to the majestic "dragon shadow" in the air with utmost respect, even to the point of humility.

He bowed very low, his posture filled with boundless awe and submission.

Then, under the astonished, bewildered, yet faintly hopeful gazes of everyone...

Chen Maocai took a step, each step halting, as if he were walking on a mountain of knives and a sea of ​​fire, not a muddy riverbed.

Head towards the riverbank, towards the direction directly below the "dragon shadow".

"Village... Village Chief..." an elder instinctively tried to call out, but his voice was barely audible.

Chen Maocai did not turn around, nor did he respond to anyone's gaze.

He walked to a spot just a few steps from the river and stopped again. This was the area where the "light rain" and dragon's might were most concentrated.

He took a deep breath and knelt down again before the "dragon shadow" in the air, this time a full prostration.

"The unworthy descendant of Xiahe Village, Chen Maocai, kowtows to the holy presence of the Dragon King!"

His voice was loud and clear, choked with emotion, and carried clearly across the riverbank.

"His descendants are incompetent and poorly disciplined, resulting in the emergence of arrogant and unruly individuals in the village who have blasphemed the sacred authority and disturbed the Dragon King's peaceful cultivation! Maocai deserves to die a thousand deaths for this!"

As he spoke, he repeatedly banged his head against the ground, leaving a loud thud. Red marks quickly appeared on his forehead, a mixture of mud and blood, making him look both pitiful and devout.

The "dragon shadow" in the air remained silent, its golden vertical pupils coldly staring at him, as if scrutinizing him.

The pale golden rain seemed to slow its descent slightly.

This scene made all the villagers' hearts jump to their throats.

The village chief... dares to confront the Dragon King directly? And he's still apologizing?