With a shaky breath, Riu Xian nodded slowly. "Alright," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's a deal."
The dragon's golden eyes seemed to gleam with satisfaction for a moment. Then, it let out a low rumble, a sound that seemed to vibrate the very air in the cavern. "So be it. Hand over the spirit vein, and I shall impart the technique to you."
Riu Xian hesitated for a moment, then reached for the spatial ring on his finger. He focused his mind, willing the spirit vein to emerge. A shimmering, opalescent light filled the cavern as the vein materialized. It was a breathtaking sight, a river of pure energy, about five hundred meters long and fifty meters wide. Riu Xian knew that this vein was 500 years old, not yet fully matured, but it still pulsed with immense power. It should be enough for the egg, he thought.
A sense of satisfaction washed over him, and he unconsciously relaxed his shoulders, a tension he hadn't realized he was holding easing away. He had taken this spirit vein from near a mortal town, hoping its removal would prevent a war between cultivation sects vying for its control, a war that would undoubtedly harm the innocent mortals caught in the crossfire.
His actions had been driven by the empathy he carried from his time in Murim, where the weak were often at the mercy of the strong. Now, by giving it to the dragon, he was not only fulfilling his end of the bargain but also strengthening this sect. He felt a surge of warmth knowing that his actions would indirectly benefit others, a feeling amplified by his naturally kind nature.
Before Riu Xian could dwell on these thoughts, the dragon acted. With a subtle gesture of its massive head, the spirit vein began to shrink, condensing in on itself like a collapsing star. The light intensified, becoming almost blindingly bright, before it was pulled across the cavern towards the lava pool.
In a smooth motion, the now-miniaturized spirit vein plunged into the molten rock, disappearing beneath the fiery surface. As it reached the golden egg, the egg pulsed with a brilliant light, and a low hum resonated through the chamber, as if the egg was absorbing the energy.
The dragon turned its attention back to Riu Xian. "The technique I am about to impart is of a rare grade," it said, its voice resonating with ancient power. "The process will take time, and you may experience some discomfort. Your mind will be flooded with knowledge, and it will likely be painful."
The dragon lifted its massive right paw, and a warm, golden light began to emanate from it, pulsing softly. A sense of anticipation, tinged with fear, tightened Riu Xian's chest.
Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through Riu Xian. Pain? How much pain? He had endured his fair share of suffering in Murim, but this was different. This was a Divine Beast, a being of immense power, about to tamper with his very mind.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. But he had made a deal. There was no turning back. He met the dragon's gaze, trying to project courage he didn't quite feel. "I'm ready," he said, his voice a little steadier than he expected.
Riu Xian braced himself and nodded, and the dragon closed her eyes for a moment. Suddenly, Riu Xian felt a strange pull, a sensation of being drawn inward. His vision blurred, the cavern around him dissolving into a swirling vortex of colors. The golden light around him flared, blindingly bright for a moment, then faded.
Standing before him was not the colossal azure dragon, but a woman. She was tall and curvaceous, her figure accentuated by a flowing robe of azure and crimson, a garment that hinted at the power it concealed. The robe clung to her body, accentuating her full bosom and the curve of her hips. The fabric parted at her legs in a daring slit, revealing long, shapely legs.
Her skin had a warm, golden undertone, and her eyes, the same molten gold as the dragon's, held an ancient wisdom and a hint of mischief. Her hair, the color of a raven's wing, cascaded down her back in thick waves, framing a face that was both beautiful and commanding. She looked to be in her prime, perhaps in her late thirties or early forties, exuding an aura of mature allure.
Her hands, though delicate in appearance, bore the faintest hint of azure scales beneath the skin. It was on her right hand that a small imperfection drew the eye - a missing scale above her ring finger, a silent testament to a past struggle, leaving a patch of smooth skin amidst the subtle shimmer.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"This was my appearance in my prime," the woman said, her voice a melodic contralto that echoed strangely in the silence of Riu Xian's mind. A wave of sorrow washed over her features, so profound that Riu Xian felt a pang in his own chest.
"I was... betrayed. By the one I loved most, a golden dragon, whose heart was as bright as the sun, or so I believed." Her voice cracked, and she looked away, as if the memory was too painful to bear. "He coveted my position, my power. He believed he had ended me, but I escaped, fled to this lower realm, carrying a piece of our shattered past."
She gestured towards the glowing egg in the lava pool, its image vivid in Riu Xian's mind. "This egg... it carries his bloodline, and mine."
Riu Xian felt a surge of empathy for the dragon. Is this what love does? He wondered, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. Is it truly just a weakness, or is there something more to it, something I never understood? In Murim, he had learned that love was a weakness, a distraction best avoided. But seeing the raw pain etched on the dragon's face, he couldn't help but feel a deep sorrow for her loss.
"As for my name..." She continued, shaking her head as if to dispel the painful memories. "It is of no consequence now. Should our paths cross again in the future, perhaps I shall reveal it to you." She smiled, a teasing, enigmatic smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Haha."
Without further ado, she raised her right hand. "Now, prepare yourself. This will be unlike anything you have ever experienced."
Riu Xian felt a surge of energy, warm and powerful, flowing into his mind. Images, concepts, and movements flooded his consciousness, a torrent of information that threatened to overwhelm him. It was the dragon's draconic sword technique, in its entirety, being imprinted directly onto his soul.
The initial wave brought with it the basic stances, the foundation of the technique. Riu Xian saw himself, or rather, a phantom version of himself, moving with a grace and power he had never possessed. The dragon's voice echoed in his mind, a melodic contralto that guided him through each movement. "The dragon's strength is not in brute force," she explained, "but in the fluidity of water, the swiftness of wind, the resilience of the earth."
Then came more complex sequences, combinations of movements that flowed together like a raging river, each strike imbued with the force of a crashing wave, each parry as swift as the wind. He felt his phantom body executing these techniques, the crimson blade in his hand a blur of motion.
He saw flashes of battles, glimpses of majestic dragons fighting in the skies, their movements mirroring the sword technique. He could faintly discern that these were demonstrations of the different stages of the technique.
A fleeting thought crossed his mind - Seven stages... there are seven stages to this technique, each a level of mastery in itself. He felt a strange mix of awe and fear. The power of the technique was immense, terrifying even. Could he truly handle such power? But the thought was quickly swallowed by the pain.
The pain began then, a searing fire in his mind. He gasped, his body convulsing as if struck by lightning. His vision blurred, the beautiful face of the dragon woman above him wavering like a mirage. He wanted to scream, to beg her to stop, but his voice was trapped in his throat.
Agony ripped through him, each new wave of information a fresh torment. He felt as if his very being was being torn apart and put back together again, the technique embedding itself into the deepest recesses of his soul, not to be comprehended now, but to be unlocked and understood later, with time and practice.
As the transfer neared its completion, an unfamiliar sensation washed over Riu Xian, different from the pain of the technique imprinting itself. It felt like a subtle probing, a gentle sifting through his memories.
He instinctively tried to resist, to shield his thoughts from the intrusion, but it was like trying to hold back the tide with his bare hands. He focused his thoughts on unrelated things, on the sect, on the spiders, on the spirit vein, anything to distract the dragon from a certain set of memories.
He felt the dragon's presence in his mind, brushing past his most recent memories: the battle with the spiders, the encounter with her in her true form, the discovery of the spirit vein in the mortal town. He tensed, his fists clenching at his sides, as she lingered, searching.
Then, he felt her presence focus on the origin of the dragon essence within him, that strange and potent power that even he didn't fully understand. He knew she was seeking the memory of how he had acquired it and that she would likely uncover a trace of the truth: the involvement of the Supreme Elder of the Cloudspring Sect in infusing the essence before his birth.
But he couldn't risk her probing deeper and potentially discovering his past life. Summoning every ounce of his will, he shielded his memories of Murim by projecting the strongest memory he could conjure: the underground cave where the Supreme Elder had revealed the truth of his birth, the cruel glint in the old man's eyes as he spoke of kidnapping his mother, of the experiments, the forced infusion of dragon essence. He thrust this raw, painful memory to the forefront of his mind, a shield against further intrusion.