Chapter 375 — The Artless Smile

Lord Dragonkeeper's body was the flesh of a god; and, as if that were not enough, five flood dragons coiled about him, two of them transformed into his weapons, so that his strength doubled and doubled again. Though the Dragon Taming Sect had likewise been founded by Lord Dragonkeeper, that Sect did no more than command and drive dragon-snakes and other monstrous breeds; it had never gained the power to borrow a dragon's might.

Lord Dragonkeeper's Dragon Command Art, by contrast, could draw upon the strength of flood dragons to magnify his own. Nor was that all: the Dragon Rearing Scripture he had handed to Shen Mu did not encompass every art he practiced, for he had kept a trick in reserve.

The copy in Shen Mu's hands was indeed far more complete than the methods of the Dragon Taming Sect, yet Lord Dragonkeeper had recorded in it none of the vital combat techniques. He wielded the flood dragons as a pair of maces, and so fearsome was his strength that at a single blow the eardrums of Shen Mu and the others in the palace rang with a piercing hum; in an instant they were struck deaf and heard nothing at all. Nor was that all: the blow drained the air from all around in a single breath, as though a great chunk of space had been caved in, sucking every trace of air away.

This was unlike the clashes of other mighty ones. Shen Mu had seen many a powerful being trade blows; he had watched sect-master-level experts fight, and had even with his own eyes witnessed the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping's campaign to quell a rebellion.

The impact wrought by those experts' dao arts and divine powers did not collapse inward but blasted out in every direction, with terrible destructive force.

Lord Dragonkeeper's fleshly strength, however, was so immense that the shock it produced collapsed inward; no surplus force leaked away, and all destruction was concentrated to a point, so that his power burst forth with nothing held back.

Outward-blasting force, awesome and terrifying as it looked, was dispersed, and by the time a dao art or divine power struck an opponent, no small portion of it had already been spent. This meant that Lord Dragonkeeper's command of force had reached the utmost limit. This was the beauty of strength, a beauty only the very few who had studied strength to its extremes could appreciate.

In the palace, Shen Mu and the others had no time to appreciate it. The air within was sucked away in an instant, and Shen Mu, Wang Muran, Mu Qingdai and Long Yu at once felt an unspeakable oppression; even the air in their chests was drawn out.

A horrifying compressive force pressed in from every side, as though it meant to crush them to bursting, and at the same time the air being scoured away brought another sensation: their flesh swelling outward. Eyeballs, heart, lungs, bladder, all swelling outward, blood and urine all but flowing out beyond their control.

The hurricane surging outward from the hall lifted them up; they floated helplessly in midair, limbs flailing, hurtling toward the mace blow Lord Dragonkeeper had brought down, as if offering themselves up to die.

Had they been sucked in beneath Lord Dragonkeeper's dragon mace, they would surely have been crushed as easily as ants, with not a spark of life left.

Shen Mu made haste to reach out and seize the great deer's thick antlers; his other hand shot out and caught Mu Qingdai's palm. Mu Qingdai's sash streamed and flew, winding about Long Yu's legs, and Long Yu in turn caught both of Wang Muran's hands.

The tearing force stretched the four of them into a straight line. The great deer, too, was dragged until its four hooves could find no footing; it scrabbled and pawed, yet could not keep from drifting toward the outside of the hall. The great deer opened its mouth and clamped its teeth with a crack onto the dragon qilin's tail.

The dragon qilin, stung with pain, roared in fury, yet fearsome as the tearing force was, the beast stood firm as a mountain. Boom—outside the hall came a world-shaking crash; it must have been the power of Lord Dragonkeeper's blow erupting as it collided with Mojiang.

The four of them shuddered violently in midair, as though struck by countless thunderbolts.

They had not been struck by thunder: Mojiang's attack and Lord Dragonkeeper's had met, and the force of their fleshly bodies set space itself rippling, heaving violently like waves, and caught within that space the four heaved and pitched without cease. Blood seeped from the corners of their mouths.

The rippling of space did not merely toss them about; their very bodies twisted with the warping of space, their organs all but displaced, their bones crackling and popping under the unbearable strain, splitting into hairline fractures. "Too strong!

" the dragon qilin cried. "I am about to throw up!

" Shen Mu and the other three and the great stag felt so wretched they were near spitting blood, yet this fat dragon could still talk, and in full voice at that.

Just then light burst outside, a brilliance so white that they instantly could see nothing. When brightness reaches its extreme, it becomes darkness; they knew not whose divine power this was, but it left their eyes steeped in gloom.

Tears streaming, the four hurriedly roused their pupil arts lest their eyes be damaged. Thump, thump, thump.

Their bodies struck the ground, but the ripple of a second collision came. That clash had been some distance off, yet its tremors reached them, and the ground became like the surface of the sea, heaving in wave upon wave; even a lump like the dragon qilin was bounced into the air. Crack, crack, crack, several sharp reports, and Shen Mu and the others were flung up against the ceiling of the hall.

"Who built this hall for Granny, that it is so solid.

.

.

" Shen Mu, blood at the corners of his mouth from the impact, swallowed what welled up his throat and said in bitter vexation. In the past, when Sect Master Shen tore down houses and palaces, had he ever met anything this hard? Even the palace halls on Sacred Lin Mountain of the Youmo Cult he had smashed as he pleased; even the imperial palace, the Imperial Academy, the palaces of the Golden Palace he had demolished however he liked.

Not only palaces; he tore up dragon veins as well.

Yet Granny Zhu's palace was unimaginably hard. Slamming against its ceiling nearly scattered their bones, and still the great hall stood unscathed, without the slightest sign of collapse.

The ripple of the third exchange came, and Shen Mu and the others, dragon qilin included, crashed down again, piling atop one another: Mu Qingdai at the very bottom, Wang Muran next, then Long Yu, Shen Mu, the great deer, and the dragon qilin.

They scrambled to their feet, only to see that Mu Qingdai, the senior sister of Little Jade Capital, had been squeezed until her eyes rolled white.

Shen Mu hurriedly pried open her mouth and poured a vial of dragon saliva down her throat, and so brought her back.

The fourth ripple came from farther still, yet it was no small thing; it set them all trembling, and the warping of space made their bodies swell and shrink by turns. When they swelled, even Mu Qingdai, the slightest of them, was squeezed by compressed space into a plump little ball of a girl; when they shrank, even the fattest of them, the dragon qilin, was stretched out slim and slender, its great belly gone.

By the fifth ripple its effect upon them was already slight, and at last everyone breathed a sigh of relief. When gods fight, mortals suffer.

Though they were the finest among those who wielded divine powers, faced with a clash of such mighty ones, one slip would mean a hideous death. "Maha!

Maha!

" A strange cry came from beyond the hall.