Chapter Sixty-Six: The Legacy of the Dragonbone

A sudden voice rang out in the golden expanse, and with its emergence, the entire world of gold seemed to roar in waves. Luo Hao was astonished to discover that this golden realm was constructed from the purest dragon force imaginable.

“May I ask which senior is present here? This junior, Luo Hao, pays his respects!” Standing before this boundless world woven from golden dragon power, Luo Hao’s heart was shaken even more by the ancient voice that had so effortlessly revealed the secret of his cultivation technique—the Twin Dragons Overawing the World.

He had acquired the Twin Dragons Overawing the World from an ancient mirror. The origins of that mirror were unknown to any living soul, yet now someone had seen through him at a glance. But recalling that the owner of this old voice might be a dragon, Luo Hao’s turbulent heart gradually found calm.

“Composed and unyielding; no wonder you could become his successor.” The owner of the ancient voice within the golden world seemed able to sense the shifts within Luo Hao’s heart.

“Old man, where are you? If you have the courage, show yourself!” Luo Hao, convinced that this old voice meant him no harm, summoned his courage and called out.

The moment the words left his mouth, he wished he could slap himself—how could he have been so brazen?

“Heh, an amusing youth.”

Unbothered by Luo Hao’s impudence, the ancient voice let out a light chuckle. Then, Luo Hao saw a dazzling arc of light appear before him, and within that radiance, a vague figure materialized atop a rainbow bridge.

The instant the figure appeared, the surging dragon force of the golden world converged upon it. Luo Hao could even sense that the dragon power seemed to be worshiping this indistinct figure.

The figure on the rainbow bridge took a single step, vanishing instantly and reappearing two yards before Luo Hao. Gazing at the stunned Luo Hao, the figure spoke as if to himself, “I am old indeed.”

Old? That was hardly possible. The figure before Luo Hao was a young man, handsome as a jade statue, and if not for the perpetually aged tone with which he spoke, Luo Hao could scarcely have believed his eyes.

He wore a robe of snow-white silk that fluttered without wind; his silver hair danced lightly beneath the rising moon.

Words like “peerless elegance” fell short in describing him. He stood like an immortal banished from the mortal world. Though he looked no more than twenty, the cascade of snowy hair and the depth of time in his eyes made it clear he was far from young.

The silver-haired man looked at Luo Hao with a smile that was neither mocking nor kind. Luo Hao cleared his throat and said, “Senior, you are as striking as ever—how could you be old? Not at all! In fact, I’d gladly swear brotherhood with you.”

Feigning ease, Luo Hao smiled at the man before him, fully aware that this formidable existence was ancient beyond reckoning—he dared not show the slightest disrespect.

“Oh! That thick skin of yours is rather different from his,” the silver-haired man remarked, hands clasped behind his back, a genial smile on his face.

“Senior, do you mean the founder of the Twin Dragons Overawing the World?” Luo Hao ventured a guess.

“Exactly. He was my lifelong rival—and also the only brother I ever had.” As he spoke, the silver-haired man’s gaze flickered, as though lost in memory.

Rival and brother both. Watching the silver-haired man drift into reminiscence, Luo Hao was at a loss, unable to grasp the full meaning of his words. After a few breaths, the man seemed to recover from his reverie.

“Senior, who exactly are you? Why are you here? And what is this battlefield, truly?” Luo Hao poured out all the questions weighing on his heart.

The silver-haired man glanced at Luo Hao, and a trace of melancholy flickered across his features. “I am Long Ao of the Dragon Clan. You may have already guessed as much.”

Seeing Luo Hao nod slightly, the man paused before continuing. “As for this place: it is a lost battlefield, a chapter of history forgotten by all. The reasons for the great war that was fought here are not for you to know—not yet.”

It seemed Long Ao had seen through Luo Hao’s thoughts, and so chose to cut off his curiosity with a word.

A dragon! Even though Luo Hao had suspected as much, his heart still leaped. In this era, when the dragons had vanished from the world, to find such a senior standing before him was beyond imagining.

“How fare the dragons now in the Eternal Sacred Realm?” Long Ao suddenly asked.

“The Eternal Sacred Realm?” Luo Hao replied, “Senior Long Ao, I’ve never heard of the Eternal Sacred Realm, but as for the dragons of the Ancient Continent, they have long since disappeared.”

After speaking, Luo Hao fixed his gaze on Long Ao’s impossibly handsome face.

“Extinct, are they? I see. I wish I could return and see for myself. But tell me, how did you come to this lost battlefield?”

“Senior, I entered through a rock wall on the mountainside.”

“The Primal Wall. I didn’t expect it to have survived.” Long Ao’s brow furrowed slightly at Luo Hao’s answer, and though his voice was low, Luo Hao caught every word.

First the Eternal Sacred Realm, now the Primal Wall—two names utterly unfamiliar to Luo Hao. His mind was clouded with questions: what had happened on this battlefield, and for what was the war fought? What was recorded on the Primal Wall, and who had used sword marks to erase that history? Who was the one that destroyed the record with a blade?

One question after another bubbled in Luo Hao’s heart, but he wisely refrained from pressing further. Matters like these clearly touched upon secrets too vast for his current strength; even if he learned the truth, there was nothing he could do.

Power—everything came down to power. If only he possessed unrivaled might, nothing under heaven or earth could ever bind him.

Long Ao seemed to read Luo Hao’s thoughts. His silver hair danced, and he broke into a carefree smile. “So be it. Through countless ages, you are the only one who has reached this place. I cannot pass on the true dragon clan martial arts, but considering you are the heir to the Twin Dragons Overawing the World, and my connection to its founder, there is a skill of my own creation I could teach you. However…”

Long Ao abruptly stopped, then smiled at Luo Hao with deep meaning, as if waiting for him to speak.

Every race guards its martial heritage fiercely and forbids its transmission to outsiders. Though Luo Hao felt a faint disappointment at not being granted a true dragon technique, his heart pounded with excitement at Long Ao’s final words.

He did not know what level of master Long Ao had been, but by name alone, it was clear that even among dragons, he was a supreme figure. In fact, Luo Hao did not know that Long Ao had once swept through the dragon clan unbeaten, even the son of the Dragon Emperor left in awe. How could a skill imparted by such a being be lacking?

“Senior Long Ao, what is the condition?” Luo Hao forced himself to remain calm, though his eyes shone with longing. Noting how swiftly Luo Hao had stilled his heart, Long Ao nodded inwardly and replied, “The only thing I ask is that, should you one day encounter a member of the dragon clan in peril, you will offer your aid.”

“Of course, Senior, even without your request I would do so. Though whether I will ever have the chance, I cannot say.” Luo Hao’s answer was earnest—after all, as a son of China, the dragon had always been a totemic symbol. If fate so willed it, he would not refuse to help.

Long Ao merely nodded, then his face took on a look of inscrutable depth. “This skill is of my own devising, not a dragon clan inheritance, so I am free to pass it on as I see fit.”

“It is called the Eight Steps of the Hidden Dragon. Within eight steps, you can traverse the heavens themselves. Not even the ancient Kunpeng, famed for its unmatched speed, could rival my Eight Steps within those bounds.”

As Long Ao spoke, a rare pride shone in his eyes—it was clear he held his Hidden Dragon Eight Steps in the highest esteem.

Perhaps the speaker was modest, but the listener’s heart was ablaze. Luo Hao felt his mind thunder. The legendary Kunpeng, born as a fish and transformed into a bird, was said to be the swiftest being under heaven, able to break free of time itself. Yet even such a speed could not outpace the Eight Steps of the Hidden Dragon—at least not within eight steps! Clearly, this was a movement art of unfathomable profundity.

“I beg you, Senior, please teach me.” Luo Hao’s voice could not hide his excitement, try as he might to remain composed. To be faster than the ancient Kunpeng in eight steps, to traverse the flow of time—he could scarcely imagine what that meant.

“Luo Hao, I will impart the Eight Steps of the Hidden Dragon to you, but whether you can master it depends on your own destiny.”

“What do you mean, Senior?”

“The Eight Steps of the Hidden Dragon is already branded into the dragon bone. To study it, you must send your consciousness into the bone itself. But I perished in ages long past; the power lingering within the dragon bone is no longer under my control, and to you, it is deadly. If your mind is devoured by that force, you will become a living corpse, lost forever.”

As Long Ao spoke, Luo Hao saw the golden light recede like the tide, leaving only a lingering echo in his ears. Once again, the jade-white dragon bone, solid as an iron rampart, appeared before him.

Gazing upon the dragon bone, Luo Hao’s brow furrowed tightly, nearly forming the shape of the character for “river.” His heart was wracked with struggle, like a miser standing before a mountain of treasure, yet unable to reach out and claim it.