GD Ch. 68 Part 1

Chapter 68: You’ll Give It to Me?

As the massive dragon body coiled towards her, the fierce air currents caused the waters of the marsh to ripple violently. Above, the vast sea roared as if a giant whirlpool was churning up from the depths, making the entire ocean seethe.

Zhuyou’s expression was grave, fearing that even a moment’s pause would allow the dragon to catch up.

The Cold Eye from a thousand years ago was no different from the outside world of Turbid Mirror. It was still filled with fireflies, and the withered trees in the marsh were half-submerged, their crooked forms resembling ghostly figures. The vines creeping up the trunks and hanging down from the branches looked like boneless hands.

The surroundings were pitch black, with fireflies clinging close to the ground, flickering slowly like countless ghostly eyes.

Zhuyou darted towards the center of the marsh and, as expected, spotted the spiritual herb. However, the herb from a thousand years ago had not yet grown a single petal, and its core was nowhere to be seen. It looked almost indistinguishable from the surrounding weeds, save for the distinctive red edge on its leaves.

She intended to bend down and pluck it from the marsh, but behind her, the Obsidian Dragon let out a furious roar. At the sound of the dragon’s cry, all the greenery in the marsh was flattened by the powerful gust, nearly uprooted.

Zhuyou twisted her wrist, summoning a wisp of spiritual energy. Just as she was about to touch the delicate herb, the Obsidian Dragon closed in, its terrifyingly sharp horns almost grazing her slender back.

A chill ran down her spine. The fleeting nature of human life was indeed like dew on a flower, vanishing in an instant. The dragon she had once toyed with a hundred years ago was no longer weak; it had tirelessly chased her across half the Cold Eye.

She stepped onto a partially submerged log, using it to propel herself several feet into the air. She thought to herself, Forget it, I can do without this herb.

The Obsidian Dragon let out a long roar, its back and head nearly touching the barrier above. Its four claws were razor-sharp, and as it approached the barrier, the scales on its back shimmered with a dazzling, colorful light.

But Zhuyou did not look back, so she did not see the beauty of the dragon’s scales. Her heart was uneasy as she squinted into the distance, wondering if the Cold Eye had an end.

She hoped it wouldn’t suddenly come to an end, leaving her with nowhere else to run.

It had been a long time since she had been chased like this. Even two hundred years ago, when she fell from the Immortal Execution Platform into devilhood, no one had pursued her. The birds seemed stunned, and even the heavenly soldiers stood frozen, as if they had lost their souls. It was rare for a goddess to fall into devilhood, especially one as uniquely talented and beautiful as a phoenix.

Zhuyou couldn’t see the pity in their eyes, and if she had, it would have only annoyed her more.

Now, being chased by the Obsidian Dragon, she felt as if she was making up for all the things she had missed two hundred years ago.

If the Obsidian Dragon wanted to catch someone, how could it fail? The dragon could traverse tens of thousands of miles in an instant, descend to the human world with a tilt of its body, and ascend to the heavens with a lift of its head. As a Divine Venerable, it moved freely through the Three Realms, unhindered and unstoppable.

Zhuyou lowered her gaze in thought. Before Changying arrived, who had governed this realm? This unfathomable sea, with the Cold Eye buried thousands of feet below—who could have guarded it properly? It must have been the Dragon Clan.

For hundreds, even thousands of years, no one had entered this realm. No one had heard of it, no one knew of it. What was so special about this Cold Eye that kept others out?

She looked up, remembering how she had been swept into this realm and how, when she tried to break through the barrier, she had been caught off guard by a surge of dragon energy. It dawned on her that this Cold Eye was governed by the Dragon Clan, and dragon energy was the key.

Dragon energy?

Zhuyou placed her hand over her heart, where the drop of heart’s blood she had taken from Changying itched faintly. She wondered what the dragon was thinking, feeling as if she was being watched intently, unable to escape.

Behind her, the Obsidian Dragon’s eyes widened, its gaping maw revealing sharp teeth. The marsh below, which had just recovered, was nearly torn apart again by the dragon’s dragging tail.

Zhuyou clutched her chest, wondering if she could use the faint dragon energy in the heart’s blood to open the barrier.

As she considered this, she began to draw out the thin dragon energy from the cold drop of blood, gathering it at her fingertips. Just as she was about to use it, another dragon roar sounded behind her.

The Obsidian Dragon exhaled, sending Zhuyou’s silver hair flying. The wisp of dragon energy at her fingertips wavered, nearly scattered by the dragon’s breath.

Zhuyou quickly closed her hand, clutching the wisp of dragon energy like a fragile thread.

She turned sharply, her vision filled with the massive dragon. It was said that the Obsidian Dragon, a star of destruction, could swallow the sky, play with the sun and moon, and devour the rivers and seas of the Three Realms.

And she, in the eyes of the Obsidian Dragon, was barely enough to fill the gaps between its teeth.

Yet, though Changying was chasing her, it never exerted its full strength to catch her, as if waiting for her to stop on her own.

But how could Zhuyou possibly let the dragon catch her? She thought the dragon, having been bored in the heavens for a hundred years, had gone mad, expecting her to walk into its trap.

Seeing Zhuyou repeatedly evade her, Changying felt a growing frustration. She looked up at the invisible barrier above, wondering what Jingyi was doing now. She let out a roar, her golden eyes now bloodshot, her breath becoming more erratic, her mind increasingly unsettled.

She sensed that a strand of her consciousness had returned to her body, indicating that something had happened to Jingyi. But seeing that no one of note was around Jingyi, she grew even more anxious.

“What are you plotting?” Zhuyou frowned.

“Something that worries me,” the Obsidian Dragon murmured, its voice carrying a feminine softness.

“Something that worries a Divine Venerable of the heavens?” Zhuyou remained wary, scoffing.

“Guess what it is,” Changying said.

“Do you really think we’re so connected that I can read your mind?” Zhuyou raised an eyebrow, exhaling slowly. “You overestimate me.”

Changying withdrew her gaze, her serpentine body coiling in the air. A hundred years ago, she had split off a strand of her consciousness to keep Jingyi under her watchful eye, then closed herself off in seclusion. Now, a century later, she had thought the bird could never escape her grasp, but this unexpected turn of events had occurred.

Her eyes darkened, still unwilling to reveal everything about Jingyi. If Zhuyou knew, it would be easier for her to extract the Devil Lord’s hun soul. She needed to leave Turbid Mirror quickly, Changying thought, to see what Jingyi was up to in the East Sea.

The Obsidian Dragon paused for only a moment before surging forward like a rainbow spanning the sky. She had made up her mind. Originally, she hadn’t wanted to force Zhuyou to hand over the soul, but now, with the situation urgent, she couldn’t afford to hesitate.

Seeing the Obsidian Dragon pause for a moment behind her, Zhuyou quickly seized the opportunity to dart forward, riding the wind. But before she could get far, she felt an icy chill at her back, followed by a fierce, claw-like gust of wind that lashed at her.

Her neck stiffened, and she abruptly shifted into her true form—a majestic black phoenix with wings that blotted out the sky. Her long tail feathers trailed down toward the marsh below, stirring the waters with every movement.

Yet, this phoenix was no ordinary bird. As she soared upward, her long tail feathers swayed gracefully in the wind, untouched by the filth below.

The true form of this fallen phoenix was unlike the divine birds of the heavens, whose feathers shimmered with a radiant, multicolored glow. Her body was entirely black, save for her crimson eyes and the faint, fiery embers clinging to the tips of her feathers. She was drenched in devilish energy, as dark and heavy as ink spilled from a pot.

The phoenix let out a piercing cry, swiftly escaping the reach of the dragon’s claws. The three feathers atop her head swayed gently, while her long tail feathers fluttered like a shooting star streaking across the sky.

But this was no ordinary shooting star—it was a dark, blazing comet, its body wreathed in flames.

The Obsidian Dragon pursued relentlessly, and the phoenix refused to yield. The confined space of the Cold Eye was soon filled with swirling winds and mist, as the two titans clashed.

It seemed the Cold Eye was far too small for such a chase between the Obsidian Dragon and the phoenix.

“If you insist on chasing me, why not open the Cold Eye?” Zhuyou called out.

“No,” Changying replied curtly. She had no intention of opening the Cold Eye. If she did, Zhuyou would slip through the barrier and escape her grasp entirely. The dragon’s massive jaws opened, her teeth grazing the phoenix’s swaying tail feathers.

The moment her tail was touched, Zhuyou let out a sharp cry, her long tail lashing out like a whip toward the dragon’s head.

She clutched the Devil Lord’s soul tightly in her talons and suddenly turned, spewing a burst of phoenix fire at the pursuing Obsidian Dragon.

The flames erupted with a deafening roar, rolling through the air like a blazing comet, as bright and scorching as the sun.

The Obsidian Dragon narrowed her eyes, caught off guard as the flames singed her horns. She let out another earth-shaking roar, causing the entire Cold Eye to tremble.

But the phoenix fire was no ordinary flame—it could not be extinguished by wind. If left unchecked, it would reduce her to a pile of shattered scales.