Days passed.
Weeks passed.
Xiao Long grew stronger.
Every morning, he woke before dawn. Meditated. Ate breakfast with Chen and Lian. Then disappeared into the Bloodrock depths with the dagger at his belt.
The dagger had become part of him now. Two fragments merged into one weapon still incomplete, still hungry, but his in a way nothing else had ever been.
He ventured deeper than any sane cultivator would go. Past the cliff. Past the hunting grounds of common Nether Beasts. Into places where the red stone turned black and the air itself tasted of ancient death.
And he killed.
Dozens of beasts. Hundreds. Their Qi flowed into him, filling the void, strengthening his foundation. His cultivation climbed steadily—Qi Refining Late, then Peak. So close to Foundation Establishment he could taste it.
The hunger that had once screamed constantly now purred like a contented beast. Hours of meditation each day kept it leashed. Controlled.
It was working.
---
Xiao Long woke, meditated, ate.
Lian had grown more comfortable around him—still quiet, still clutching her bag, but no longer flinching when he moved suddenly. Chen remained the watchful guardian, always alert, always ready.
"The countdown begins," Chen said, flipping meat on the fire. "Five more days, and we're out of this hellhole."
Xiao Long nodded. "Five more days of hunting."
Lian looked up. "You're going again? You've already killed hundreds."
"Not enough." Xiao Long stood, stretching. "Once we return home, I won't be able to absorb Qi like this. No more beasts to kill. No more free fuel."he thought to himself.
Chen shook his head. "Most cultivators would kill for peace. You kill for more fighting."
Xiao Long almost smiled. "I'm not most cultivators."
He vanished into the trees.
---
Deeper. Faster. Stronger.
Xiao Long moved through the Bloodrock like its lord and master. Trees blurred past. Rocks became stepping stones. The dagger at his belt hummed with anticipation.
He felt them before he saw them.
Followers. Three of them. Cultivators, by their Qi signatures. Hanging back, watching, waiting.
Xiao Long ignored them.
No use fighting before he reached his hunting grounds. Let them watch. Let them see. It wouldn't save them.
He reached the drop—a cliff overlooking a valley choked with dark Qi. Below, he could sense them. Nether Beasts. At least a dozen.
Perfect.
He leaped.
---
He landed in the center of the pack.
Ten Nether Beasts surrounded him—scale-hides, razor-claws, burning eyes. They turned as one, hunger flaring in their gazes.
Xiao Long smiled.
DEVIL'S GAZE
A technique born from the Void Physique and Xian Wu's inherited memories. Xiao Long channels his crimson energy into his eyes, releasing a wave of pure pressure that targets the Qi centers of all living things within range.
Beasts freeze. Cultivators stagger. Even Core Formation experts feel a moment of hesitation.
It doesn't last long—seconds, maybe—but in combat, seconds are everything.
Xiao Long had read about this technique in Xian Wu's memories. It took him three weeks to master it.
Now it was second nature.
---
Xiao Long's eyes blazed crimson.
The wave of pressure exploded outward.
Every Nether Beast in the clearing froze.
Ten statues of scale and claw, frozen mid-lunge, mid-snarl, mid-hunger. Their eyes—those that still had eyes—went wide with something that looked almost like terror.
Xiao Long moved.
The dagger sang.
One. Two. Three. Four.
He flowed through them like water through reeds, the blade finding throats, hearts, cores. Dark blood sprayed. Bodies fell.
Five. Six. Seven. Eight.
His Datian opened. Qi poured in from the dying beasts—thick, dark, delicious. Each death fed him. Each kill made him stronger.
Nine. Ten.
Twenty.
He'd lost count. The clearing was carpeted with corpses. His hunger was satisfied.
And still, the watchers watched.
Xiao Long turned toward the trees.
"Are you going to keep hiding, or are you going to try to kill me?"
Silence.
Then—movement.
The dagger, still embedded in a beast's corpse, vanished. Reappeared in Xiao Long's hand without him moving. A trick he'd learned last week—recalling the blade across short distances.
Three figures burst from the trees.
They landed in the clearing in perfect formation—two on the flanks, one in the center. Cultivators. Foundation Establishment, all three. A full realm above Xiao Long's Qi Refining Peak.
Xiao Long didn't flinch.
"Uncle sent you, right?"
They didn't answer.
But their silence was answer enough.
The left flank attacked first—a whip of water Qi lashing toward Xiao Long's face. Xiao Long stepped through it, Void Phase making him intangible for the barest moment.
The right flank came next—earth Qi, heavy fists, crushing power. Xiao Long dodged, rolled, came up inside his guard.
The dagger moved.
It pierced through the earth cultivator's chest before he could block. Through. Out the other side. The man's eyes went wide.
Then his body crumbled.
One down.
The water cultivator's eyes went wide. He saw Xiao Long's gaze—those burning crimson eyes—and made a decision.
He ran.
The dagger flew from Xiao Long's hand.
It caught the runner between the shoulder blades. Pierced through. He fell face-first and didn't move.
Two down.
The third cultivator—ice affinity, by the frost forming around his hands—threw up a barrier. Crystal blue, gleaming, thick.
The dagger slammed into it. Stopped. Hovered.
Xiao Long appeared behind the man.
Void Step.
The ice cultivator spun, but too slow. Xiao Long's hand closed around his throat. His eyes blazed.
"You should have run with your friend."
He squeezed.
The ice cultivator's barrier shattered. His body went limp.
Three down.
---
Xiao Long stood among the bodies—ten Nether Beasts, three Foundation Establishment assassins—breathing hard, heart pounding, hunger singing.
He reached for the dagger.
And then—
Pressure.
Not like anything he'd felt before.
This wasn't a cultivator's killing intent. This was deeper. Older. Primal. It pressed down on him like an ocean, like a mountain, like the weight of the sky itself.
His knees buckled.
What—
Something emerged from the darkness beyond the clearing.
Small. Delicate. Scales like liquid shadow. Eyes like twin moons. Wings folded against its back. A tail that swayed like a curious cat.
A dragon.
No—a dragonet. The size of a small dog, with all the presence of an ancient god.
Xiao Long couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The pressure was immense.
The dragonet approached.
It sniffed him. Tilted its head. Sniffed again.
Then it launched itself at him.
Xiao Long braced for death—
And got a face full of enthusiastic licking.
The tiny dragon slobbered on him. Nuzzled against his neck. Curled around his shoulders like an overly affectionate cat.
The pressure vanished.
In its place came—
MEMORY.
---
A throne room. Black crystal. Xian Wu, younger, laughing.
A woman beside him—beautiful, regal, holding something small in her arms.
"A gift, my love." She placed the tiny creature in Xian Wu's hands. "From the sharin Depths. She chose you."
The dragonet—the same one—nuzzled against Xian Wu's chest.
"What shall we name her?"
"Let her choose. She'll tell us when she's ready."
The dragonet looked up at Xian Wu with ancient eyes.
And Xian Wu laughed again—a sound Xiao Long had never heard from his own lips.
"Five hundred years," Xian Wu whispered. "Will you wait for me?"
The dragonet nestled closer.
She would.xiao long thought.
The memory faded.
Xiao Long stared at the creature now wrapped around his shoulders. Five hundred years. She had waited five hundred years.
"How?" he whispered.
The dragonet looked at him with those ancient eyes.
And suddenly, Xiao Long understood.
This wasn't a wild beast. This was a companion. Bound to Xian Wu's soul, waiting for his return. When the Shadowblade fragments had awakened, when Xiao Long's power had grown enough—she had felt him.
She had come.
"But I can't take you home," Xiao Long said. "A beast like you—they'd—"
The dragonet vanished.
Not moved. Not hidden. Gone.
Then Xiao Long felt it—a presence in his shadow. Warm. Content. There.
He looked down. His shadow was slightly darker than it should be. And in its depths, two tiny moons gleamed back at him.
The dragonet had merged with his shadow.
And his hunger—the constant, gnawing hunger that had driven him for weeks—was gone. Quiet. Satisfied.
She was feeding him.
Somehow, impossibly, the dragonet was sharing her own Qi with him.
Xiao Long stood in the clearing, surrounded by corpses, a legendary beast hiding in his shadow, power thrumming through his veins.
Five days remained until he left the Bloodrock.
He couldn't wait to see what came next.