Chapter 413 - 372: I Don’t Fight Madmen

The Dragon Monarch...

Had actually...

Fled?!

Just like that... without a moment’s hesitation... he retreated?!!

The Bixuan Dragon King stood frozen as if struck by lightning, his mind a complete blank.

He couldn’t understand. He couldn’t accept it!

His Majesty the Dragon Monarch had clearly descended, so why... why had he left without a single word? Why hadn’t he even spared a glance for his own descendant before just... leaving?

From within the great, pure-white sun in the Celestial Vault, a faint sigh could be heard, one that seemed to carry a hint of a helpless, wry smile.

Immediately after, the phantom of the great sun slowly faded and vanished, as if it had never been there at all.

But a faint wisp of its Dao Rhyme—one of eternal light, of dominion over the mortal world—lingered between Heaven and Earth.

The Dragon Monarch’s last thought before retreating was clear and calm: ’It’s not worth it to fight that desperate madman and risk damaging my still-unhealed Dao foundation for such an unworthy side-branch of my bloodline.’

’I don’t fight with madmen.’

’As for losing face by retreating without a fight?’

’Hah... In this Profound Yellow World, besides another True Monarch, who would dare criticize a True Monarch?’

’Someone does?’

’Then I’ll just kill them.’

"No... Impossible... Your Majesty the Dragon Monarch... You can’t leave!

Save me!

Save Bixuan Palace!"

The Bixuan Dragon King finally snapped out of his stupor, letting out a desperate and mournful howl. He reached toward the direction where the Dragon Monarch had vanished, trying to grasp the last wisp of dissipating draconic might.

His only answer, however, was the silent Celestial Vault and... the sound of the roiling Blood Sea behind him, growing ever more viscous, ever more terrifying.

Stiffly, bit by bit, he turned around.

Atop the surging waves of the Blood Sea, the Nether Spring Taoist had, at some point, shed the cold, sinister smile from his face. He was now watching him quietly, his eyes filled with a mixture of amusement, pity, and mockery.

It was the look of a cat watching a helpless mouse struggling beneath its paw.

The Nether Spring Taoist folded his hands into his sleeves and leaned forward slightly. His lips parted, and his voice, though not loud, carried a gentleness that could chill one to the bone:

"Just now..."

"Fellow Daoist, you seemed to be enjoying your cursing quite a bit."

He leaned forward a little more, the Bixuan Dragon King’s despair-twisted face reflected in his blood-red pupils. The corner of his mouth slowly curled into a bone-chilling arc.

"Well then..."

"I suppose it’s my turn."

The moment his voice fell, within the Blood Sea Nether Realm, the nine colossal, ferocious dragons made of blood waves, which had been paused, all roared in unison, a sound that shook the very heavens. Their heads lowered, their cold, bloodthirsty gazes locked firmly onto the ashen-faced Bixuan Dragon King and the six Four Seas Alliance Masters beside him, who were equally trapped in endless fear and despair!

At the same time, the seven thousand five hundred Blood God Children scattered across the ruins of Bixuan Palace—still greedily licking up the residual blood Qi and soul fragments—shrieked sharply. Like a swarm of bloodthirsty bats returning to their nest, they converged into a dark-red storm that blotted out the sky and lunged forward!

"NO—! Dragon King, save me!!"

"Fight him to the death! AHHH—!"

"The Blood Sea... is defiling..."

Desperate roars, dying screams, and the wails of shattering Magical Treasures were instantly drowned out by the even more frenzied booming of the blood waves and the shrieking of the Blood God Children.

Torn apart by the ferocious blood-wave dragons, the Protective Dharma Lights maintained by the Four Seas Alliance Masters shattered one after another like fragile bubbles.

This was an uneven slaughter, a one-sided consumption.

Empowered by the fully unfurled Blood Sea Nether Realm, and facing a Nether Spring who had just broken through to the Foundation Establishment Middle Stage by feasting on the blood Qi and Resentful Souls of tens of thousands of living beings, the seven Four Seas Alliance Masters—already severely depleted and their spirits broken—stood no chance at all.

A few moments later.

The blood waves calmed, and the Blood God Children, like weary birds returning to their forest, quietly vanished back into the churning Blood Sea.

Left in their place were only five massive yet shriveled and twisted figures. Their color was a deathly gray, and they looked like withered skeletons that had been weathered for millennia, barely maintaining the postures they held in life.

Their empty eye sockets stared blankly at the blood-red sky before the bodies disintegrated inch by inch under the corrosion of the residual baleful blood Qi, turning to dust that blended into the viscous Blood Sea below, leaving no trace behind.

In Bixuan Palace, aside from the Dragon King and the Princess, every Foundation Establishment cultivator was dead!

On the vast Dragon Palace Plaza—or what was left of it—only three figures remained "standing."

Nether Spring stood quietly upon the gentle ripples of the Blood Sea, his blood-red robes as pristine as ever, unstained by even a speck of dust.

The Bixuan Dragon King knelt on one knee, using a broken Dragon Spear to support his faltering body.

His magnificent Dragon King’s Crown was long gone. His hair was disheveled, his body covered in bloodstains and scorch marks, and his aura had weakened to an extreme degree.

His draconic eyes stared death at Nether Spring, burning with monstrous hatred, unwillingness, and... a sliver of bone-deep fear that he himself refused to acknowledge.

Not far from him, the once peerlessly beautiful and deeply cunning Seventh Princess was in an even more wretched state.

She was sprawled on the ground, her priceless Jueqiao Wedding Dress tattered and stained with filth and dust. Her skin, once as lustrous as jade, had lost its sheen, turning dull and coarse. It was even covered in fine cracks, like a dried-up riverbed.

Her Phoenix Crown was askew, its jewels and ornaments scattered. Her lovely face was as pale as paper, and faint golden Dragon Blood continuously seeped from her seven orifices. Her aura was incredibly faint.

Forget the dignity of the Dragon Race; she looked even more listless and broken than an ordinary mortal woman.

Over ninety-nine percent of her Dragon Blood essence and Cultivation had been devoured by the rampaging Blood God Children.

If Nether Spring hadn’t intentionally controlled them to leave her barely breathing, she would have long since been reduced to withered bones.

Nether Spring’s gaze swept indifferently past the Bixuan Dragon King’s venomous yet powerless glare, finally landing on the barely breathing Seventh Princess.