"Chief, look! That's the Kete tribe's fortress," a Kamei tribesman said, pointing at the distant crystal-like stronghold beside their chief, Mengba.
"Truly magnificent," Mengba murmured, swallowing hard. "Such a fortress belongs to the brave Kamei warriors." He raised his stone spear, rallying the thousands of young tribesmen behind him. "Kamei warriors, see that glorious fortress? Today, we seize it! No more damp huts, no more freezing winds. We'll wear fine, warm clothes and live in beast-proof homes. Who has the courage to take it?"
"We do! We do!" The youths roared, waving weapons. Mengba smirked, eyeing the fortress. Soon, it's mine.
From the temple's peak, Feitian observed the approaching Kamei tribe. Though distant, my qi senses mapped their every move. I was impressed—the burly Mengba had a knack for pre-battle speeches. Not bad for a primitive. Talent in such a backward society was unexpected. But with me here, their schemes were doomed.
"Where's everyone?" Mengba's tribe reached the fortress, only to find both gates sealed. The high, slick walls stumped them.
"Ram the gates!" Mengba struck the wall with his spear, finding it unyielding, and ordered his men. Following his command, tribesmen hacked at a tree as thick as two clasped hands with stone axes. Feitian watched, dumbfounded. This is comedy. My brief respect for Mengba vanished. Primitives, indeed. No strategy, no forethought. Even predators plan better.
Yet, their teamwork surprised me. The tree-cutters lined up, each swinging their axe in sequence at marked spots, saving energy and speeding up. Still, it took two hours for the tree to fall. By then, Feitian had brought the six maids to their fourth climax. I cycled energy through our connected bodies before rising.
Showtime. Mengba's men hefted the stripped trunk, charging the gate. Ten hits might breach it. I cast a defensive spell on the gate to blunt the impact.
Mengba paced irritably. Wave after wave of ram-bearers swapped out, exhausted. The Kamei's initial vigor was gone. Collapsed men littered the ground. Mengba wiped sweat from his chin, flinging it away.
"Chief, water," a woman offered, holding a bamboo tube.
Mengba gulped it down, bellowing, "Next group, up! I don't believe this gate's that tough!"
Three more hours passed. The thousands lay spent, unable to rise. "Chief, what now?" a tribesman asked.
Mengba jabbed his spear into the dirt. "No choice—we summon the Great God." He sighed, resigned. Failure meant losing his chiefdom. "Tushi, you forced my hand," he muttered bitterly.
Hearing "Great God," the tribesman's face paled but cautiously asked, "Chief, really summoning the Great God?" Mengba nodded firmly. "Prepare." The man, knowing no turning back, headed to the tribe.
Why was summoning their god so dire? Long ago, an unknown creature crashed into the Kamei during a sacrifice, causing chaos. Deemed their tribal god, it never harmed them. But summoning it demanded live human blood—a taboo across the continent. If other tribes learned, they'd unite against the Kamei, spelling doom. Mengba knew his tribe could crush any single foe but not a coalition. Numbers weren't on their side.
From the temple's roof, I watched the Kamei. Their every move was mine to see. "They're preparing to summon their 'tribal god.' That's why they've quieted," I told Tushi behind me.
Tushi's face shifted. He'd guessed the Kamei, unable to breach, would resort to this, but guessing and facing it were worlds apart. "What's to fear? Even the mightiest beast falls to humans. You know this," I reassured Tushi. He needed confidence to lead the Kete. If fear broke him before the fight, defeat was certain.
Tushi nodded, reflecting. On this continent, beasts stronger than humans were plentiful, yet humans hunted them for food. Strength didn't guarantee victory. And with a god—me—here, whose miracles built this fortress in under thirty minutes, what was impossible?
A dark cloud surged from the distance. I looked up. Damn. No natural storm—this was straight out of ghost tales, "riding black clouds."
"It's coming," Tushi whispered, trembling. Below, unaware Kete tribesmen remained calm, trusting their "omnipotent" god (they'd seen me conjure endless items with a touch). Ignorance is bliss.
The Kamei, spotting the black cloud, knelt in worship. Mengba joined, prostrating fervently.
"What's in that cloud? So dramatic," I muttered. High-level beasts often had intelligence—top-tier magic beasts on Flying Dragon Star matched humans. The cloud moved deceptively fast. I sensed a powerful energy approaching—one, two, no, one again. Weird. But it was no match for me. Victory's ours.
Eight giant pythons emerged from the cloud. That's it? To me, the greatest, mightiest Dragon King of the Sky Dragon Empire, Feitian, they were worms. Still, I'd handle it myself—their power far outstripped these humans.
"Stay inside or watch, but don't leave," I told Duo'er Duo, Duo'er Hua, Tushi, and the others. I levitated, gliding toward the cloud, releasing and absorbing energy. My body grew, reaching over six meters tall by the time I faced the cloud.
The Kete knelt, worshipping. Duo'er Duo and Duo'er Hua gazed at me, hearts racing. The eight pythons, sensing my Dragon aura, recoiled in fear.
"What's this? Isn't the Kete's fortress a divine miracle? Why's a god here?" Mengba gaped as our "tribal god" retreated before me. The god's scared. His hope crumbled.
The snake-like beast wailed inwardly: Damn these natives! Why didn't they mention this god? They call me a god, but I'm no god—natives can't define that. Facing Feitian, it schemed to survive. Fighting me was suicide. Its instincts screamed: this was a true, high-level god. Curse Amaterasu for not warning me! Tricked!
I hovered, eyeing the beast coldly, our mental waves clashing. "What are you?" I demanded, sensing its evil energy.
"I'm Baqi, revered Dragon God," it answered, trembling. "Baqi?" I paused. Familiar… Japan's god? Its eight snake heads clicked. Not pythons, one creature.
Unsure if it was Japan's deity or just named that, I pressed, "Where're you from? Speak, or else. This is my turf." I glared. Bluff's free—true or not, who cares?
Baqi sobbed, "Great Dragon God, I didn't want to come! Had I known you were here, I'd never dare. Chased by God Realm foes, tricked by Amaterasu's lies, I fled here. Spare me! I've an eighty-year-old mother and a three-year-old child!"
Its nonsense grated. "Stop blubbering. How old are you?" I snapped. "Fourteen thousand," it replied, then, seeing my icy glare, its eight heads bowed, wailing, "God, I didn't mean it! I'm delirious, brain-fried, schizophrenic!"
"Enough! Keep crying, and I'll blast you back to your mother's womb!" I roared. Baqi shut up. "You said gods chased you, and Amaterasu—what's that about?" Could this be Japan's Baqi?
"It's like this. Amaterasu and I aren't from this space. We cultivated on a planet called Earth," Baqi said. My mind jolted, but I hid my excitement. "A beautiful cultivation world, called the Dragon's Land in the East, where many became immortals. I cultivated on an East Sea island. Amaterasu lured me to steal elixirs across the sea. We failed, got caught. I escaped; Amaterasu, slower, took a hit. He fought them, then, for revenge, incited islanders to harass and kill the immortals' mortal descendants. We were hunted. The Immortal Realm was theirs—we fled. Without Amaterasu, I wouldn't be this wretched."
"You filthy Baqi! You're not innocent! You killed and ate people too. You're slandering me!" A new voice erupted from Baqi. A ghostly figure emerged from the cloud, cursing Baqi.
I nearly shouted in glee. No path to heaven, yet you barge into hell! Heaven aids me! Today, you'll die in agony. Baqi and Amaterasu kept bickering.
"Amaterasu, don't lie! Who called those trash 'Sun's Children,' puffing them up? Without your spells, they'd still be beasts, and none of this would've happened!" Baqi shot back.
"Baqi, is it all my fault? Your lustful nature—defiling every woman on that island, spreading your venom to men, turning them beastly. My fault?" Amaterasu retorted.
Baqi: "…"
Amaterasu: "…"
I glared at the doomed duo. "Shut up! Know who I am? I'm the Guardian Dragon God of the Dragon's Land! I've hunted you forever, and today, you've delivered yourselves. Don't blame me!"
"Dragon God, spare me!" Baqi wailed. "It's you!" Amaterasu snapped. They turned on each other, desperate. Suddenly, Amaterasu, seizing Baqi's plea, morphed into a black cloud, engulfing Baqi. The cloud churned, voices echoing: "Amaterasu, you卑鄙 sneak!" "Hah, so what? Your energy's mine. I'll take him. Die, and I'll avenge you!" "Villain!" "Struggle's futile—you can't escape my Black Soul Cloud!"
I watched coldly as they fought, happy to profit. Amaterasu's vile—Japan's character must stem from him. If he thought devouring Baqi's energy would let him win or flee, he was dreaming.
Below, Mengba and the Kamei gaped. Their "tribal god" spawned another figure, both vanishing into the cloud. Is the first a mount, the second the true god? The cloud's booms fainted many. I cast a protective shield below—they didn't deserve death yet.
Amaterasu's manic laugh burst from the cloud: "Foolish!" The cloud shrank, forming a solid human—Amaterasu.
"Kid, surrender, and I might spare you," he taunted.
"Big talk," I said coolly. Too soft, chatting with a dead man.
"Think your power can stop me?" He laughed, then froze. A massive energy hit him, unprepared, making him spit blood. He focused—me, the Dragon God.
My aura surged, locking him in countless energy chains. Boundless power filled the heavens, my Dragon aura radiating. Clouds roiled; all creatures below knelt to their emperor. I love this storm-ruling, sole-sovereign thrill.
At Tier 9, I held back transformation—this planet couldn't handle my exponential power surge. Amaterasu, trapped in my energy lock, was shredded by the disrupted balance, pulverized to dust.
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