My enemies became my companions

Chapter 662 Slaying the Dragon (Part Two)

The wheels rolled over the dirt road covered with fallen leaves, making a dull rustling sound, and slowly drove towards the vast mountains where southern Xinjiang and Sichuan meet.

The trees along the roadside gradually thinned out, revealing the layered gray-blue mountains in the distance. The air was filled with the desolation of late autumn and the damp chill unique to the border region.

Inside the car, Chen Yi closed his eyes to rest, while Yin Weiying sat to the side, watching the autumn colors of the forests fly by outside the window. His face showed neither joy nor sorrow, only a faint weariness after a long journey.

Upon arriving at a small town nestled in the mountains, where the population was slightly denser, Chen Yi signaled for the car to stop. He then led Yin Weiying into a roadside tavern with a tattered banner hanging above it, intending to gather some information and also to rest for a while.

As soon as the greasy curtain was lifted, a murky smell mixed with cheap liquor hit the door. Several tables of traveling merchants and local idlers were crammed into the small hall, discussing something with great enthusiasm. The noise was loud, but it was all filled with a sense of panic.

"...This is incredible! That thing in the water is really going to transform into a dragon!" A shirtless man took a swig of wine, wiped the foam from his mouth, and shouted, "It's the Chishui River up ahead! The flood that happened a few days ago not only destroyed the mountain god temple, but also caused half of the mountain to collapse! The commotion was earth-shattering!"

A gaunt old man beside him nodded repeatedly, lowering his voice, which only made it sound more eerie: "Have you heard? Several villages nearby have already started preparing for the sacrificial ceremony. Animals are commonplace, and they're even gritting their teeth to throw in gold and silver... The most deadly thing is," his cloudy eyes swept over the crowd, with a strange look that was a mixture of fear and numbness, "...children!"

"Hiss." A collective gasp rang out.

"What a terrible thing!" someone exclaimed, slamming their fist on the table.

"Not offering sacrifices? How can we not offer sacrifices?" the shirtless man retorted, his neck stiff. "When that thing gets angry, hundreds of miles of land will be flooded! You and I can run away, but can we run away from our ancestral graves and ancestral halls? Can we run away from the crops in the fields? That would wipe out our entire family!"

Chen Yi frowned slightly, his fingertips lightly tapping the rough tabletop. Yin Weiying sat upright to the side, his face still cold and aloof, but when his gaze swept over the people talking, a barely perceptible ripple flashed in his eyes.

"Is anyone in charge?" Chen Yi asked, his voice not loud, but clearly carried to the next table.

Seeing his extraordinary demeanor and the ethereal beauty of his female companion, the crowd dared not be negligent and began to chime in, talking about how the dragon was causing trouble, how urgent the sacrifice was, and which village had already chosen the offerings.

Finally, the gaunt old man added, "However, I heard that the people in town are getting restless. Some have spent a fortune to hire high-ranking Taoist priests from the Shenxiao Sect to exorcise the demon! That's real immortal magic! Perhaps... perhaps there's still a chance?"

The Divine Firmament Sect? Zhao Deshan?
Chen Yi briefly recalled the brief encounter at the post station outside the capital. He nodded, asked no further questions, and gestured for Yin Weiying to rise.

He didn't ask any more questions, and tossed a few copper coins as a token of his gratitude.

"Let's go and take a look at that town."

Yin Weiying followed silently. Chen Yi had not yet changed his mind, but there was a glimmer of hope. For now, she tried her best to be obedient and not provoke him.

As for that child named... Qin Yue...

Yin Weiying silently recited the Supreme Method of Forgetting Emotions to stop his thoughts and prevent himself from overthinking.

………………

The atmosphere was completely different when the carriage entered the town where the festival was rumored to be about to take place.

Faded prayer flags hung along both sides of the street, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of burning incense and paper money, mixed with the pungent odor of livestock.

A crowd gathered near the stone bridge in the town center, their faces mostly numb and filled with an almost fanatical hope, occasionally punctuated by suppressed, low sobs from women.

gloom.

The ritual seemed to be about to begin.

On the open ground at the bridgehead, a makeshift altar was erected with rough wood, upon which were placed pig, cow, and sheep heads, whole chickens and ducks, and several plates of crude gold and silver utensils.

The most jarring sight was on either side of the altar, where two young children dressed in brand-new but strangely styled red clothes, their faces covered in thick makeup, were being held down by several men with complicated expressions. Their innocent eyes were filled with terror, and only soft sobs could be heard, adding to the desolation.

Paper money mixed with withered leaves swirled in the bleak autumn wind.

The stone path was wet, reflecting the gray sky. Chen Yi, with Yin Weiying by his side, walked slowly along the edge of the crowd like two bystanders who had stumbled upon this place. Yin Weiying's simple Taoist robe attracted many respectful and curious glances.

She looked straight ahead, as if the joys and sorrows around her were separated from her by thousands of miles.

Her gaze swept across the altar, past the children's terrified faces, and finally settled on an old stone bridge spanning the Chishui River not far away.

The recessed area beneath the bridge, where the sword once hung to suppress the water, is now empty.

The Dragon-Slaying Sword had long been taken away.

We await the arrival of the dragon in the ditch.

Chen Yi paused slightly, turned around abruptly, and looked down at an inconspicuous open-air tea stall on the riverbank. He then led Yin Weiying straight over there.

A few simple tables were scattered around, with a handful of passersby seemingly taking a break. At one of the tables, a group of people dressed as scholars on their way to the imperial examinations appeared to be drinking tea and chatting, but their backs were straight, their eyes were sharp, and their hands were unconsciously resting on the hilts of swords hidden under the table.

As Chen Yi approached, the people at the table instantly tensed up, their eyes wary. Just as the leader was about to make a move, a middle-aged Taoist priest with a gaunt face raised his hand and made a gesture of pressing down.

It was Zhao Deshan. When he saw Chen Yi's face, a look of surprise flashed in his eyes, which then turned into a complicated expression. Their eyes met briefly in the air, but neither of them spoke.

Chen Yi, with a calm expression, slowly sat down at the empty table opposite Zhao Deshan and the others, accompanied by Yin Weiying.

“Fellow Daoist Chen…? To meet you here again is truly…fate.” Zhao Deshan broke the silence, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty and probing.

"Master Zhao, it's been a long time. I hope you've been well."

Back when they were approaching Yin Jian Mountain, Chen Yi had saved Zhao Deshan. At the time, he was traveling with Lu Ying. Later, when they went to Yin Jian Mountain, Zhao Deshan helped him deceive the sect leader in order to repay the life-saving grace.

In the process of going back and forth, they actually developed some goodwill towards each other.

The atmosphere was initially somewhat tense. Zhao Deshan looked at Chen Yi again, his suspicions growing even stronger.

Having not seen him for a long time, this person's aura was even more profound and reserved, seemingly more so than when they last met, like a deep pool or ancient well, its surface calm but containing unfathomable undercurrents.

If before it was like a dragon soaring in the sky, half-hidden in the clouds, now it is like a dragon lurking in the abyss, waiting for its time to strike. This transformation in demeanor secretly startled Zhao Deshan.

"May the Heavenly Venerable grant you boundless blessings. It is truly unexpected to meet you here again. Fellow Daoist Chen, have you also heard of... the matter of that dragon?"

Chen Yi nodded slightly, his gaze falling on the turbulent Chishui River. "It seems that you, Daoist, have also come for that dragon."

“Indeed.” Zhao Deshan regained his composure, his expression becoming solemn. “This ferocious beast stirs up trouble and harms living beings. I have been ordered to come and eliminate this demon.”

"Oh? Do you know its origin?" Chen Yi asked.

Zhao Deshan stroked his long beard and said in a deep voice, "According to the records of our sect and our extensive investigations, the origin of this dragon... is probably not ordinary."

This place is the border between Nanwei and Sichuan, a place inherently mysterious and unpredictable. We suspect that this giant serpent is very likely... the same colossal serpent that devoured the Celestial Master Zhang Daoling back then!

Upon hearing this, a hint of surprise flashed across Yin Weiying's usually cold eyes.

Chen Yi raised an eyebrow: "Devoured Zhang Tianshi? That was a thousand years ago. If it really was it, why has it only now become a dragon?" "That's the strange thing." Zhao Deshan shook his head and sighed. "The timeline doesn't match up. We are also puzzled. But judging from its behavior and the demonic aura left behind when it stirred up trouble, it does have some similarities to the monstrous creature recorded in ancient books."

Some elders speculate that perhaps the Celestial Master was not truly defeated; perhaps he had a grand vision of compassion, like the Celestial Master sacrificing his own flesh to feed the tiger, thus dispelling its malevolence and guiding it towards goodness. However… he clearly failed to achieve his goal.

That giant serpent must have acquired the Taoist power of the Celestial Master, lying dormant for a thousand years, and now it can no longer restrain itself, intending to take advantage of the opportunity of the desecration to completely transform into a dragon!

Chen Yi picked up the rough pottery bowl, took a sip of tea. The Shenxiao Sect had been prosperous for over a thousand years, and now it had long since declined beyond recognition. He had no idea how powerful Longhu Mountain had been a thousand years ago. Zhao Deshan's words were no different from a frog in a well.

"Perhaps, the one causing trouble right now, requiring the sacrifice of young boys and girls, is not the same thousand-year-old serpent that devoured Zhang Tianshi back then..."

He paused, then addressed Zhao Deshan, saying the second half of his sentence.
"But rather its... offspring."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Deshan's pupils suddenly contracted, and the fingers that were twirling his fake beard stopped.

Boom!

Without warning, a deep, muffled roar seemed to come from the depths of the earth, and the entire town seemed to tremble. Then, the already pale and bleak sky turned completely dark.

Daylight instantly turned into night.

Thick, inky clouds gathered out of nowhere, churning and pressing low down on the earth, spreading a suffocating damp chill and a fishy stench, as if opening the gates of the underworld.

"Such a heavy demonic aura! This is definitely not an ordinary dragon!" Zhao Deshan's expression changed drastically, and the fingers twirling his fake beard froze. "If it is truly as Fellow Daoist Chen said, that it is an offspring... to be able to trigger such a celestial phenomenon, then it must be... the eldest son without a doubt!"

Large raindrops began to fall without warning, pattering on the tiles and stone pavement, quickly forming a dense curtain of rain.

Panic erupted in the crowd, and cries and screams instantly drowned out everything else.

"it's dark!"

"That thing...that thing is coming!"

The rain was icy cold, but the shaman presiding over the ceremony on the altar shouted in a hoarse voice, "The auspicious time has arrived! Welcome the divine dragon! Protect this land and bring peace!"

The boy and girl who were pressed to either side of the altar were already crying their hearts out, their little faces ashen.

A disheveled woman suddenly rushed out from the crowd, wailing as she rushed toward the altar: "My son! Give me back my son!" But she was held back by several strong men, who punched and kicked her, their shouts drowned out by the wind and rain.

The woman struggled desperately, her fingernails scratching bloody marks on the muddy ground. She stared intently at the two children being dragged toward the bridge, her eyes vacant, as if her soul had been ripped out.

Zhao Deshan suddenly stood up, followed closely by the Shenxiao Sect disciples, all with solemn expressions and their hands already on their sword hilts.

The wind and rain were so strong that their figures were blurred in the rain. Zhao Deshan glanced quickly at Chen Yi, who was still sitting still, his eyes filled with complicated emotions, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

Will this unfathomable Fellow Daoist Chen stand idly by, or...?
Chen Yi remained expressionless, as if the cries, the wind and rain, and the impending terror around him had nothing to do with him. Yin Weiying sat upright beside him, maintaining her ethereal posture, but the knuckles of her hands resting on her knees were slightly white from the force she was exerting.

Despite the strong wind and rain, Chen Yi could still hear the suppressed whispers of the Shenxiao Sect disciples beside him, and vaguely catch a few scattered words.

"Don't panic, someone posted a notice this morning..."

"Notice? Whose notice?"

"Slay the dragon, someone says we should slay the dragon."

at this time,

Rumble!
A dull, loud noise came from upstream, drowning out the sound of wind and rain.

It wasn't thunder, but a flash flood. The muddy water, carrying broken logs and boulders, rushed down from upstream like a beast breaking free of its cage, instantly filling the wide river channel. The water level rose rapidly at a visible speed.

Waves crashed against both banks, roaring deafeningly. Deep within the vast floodwaters, a chilling dark red hue was faintly visible, as if some colossal creature was churning and churning.

The turbid waves surged high, and a huge, blurry outline of a dragon's head appeared and disappeared in the turbid waves, its scales and armor gleaming, its head and horns fierce!
The entire town trembled under the power of nature and the ferocity of the monsters. The cries and screams of the people were completely drowned out by the overwhelming flood. Despair, like the cold river water, washed over everyone's heads.

Zhao Deshan's hair and beard stood on end as he roared, "Form the formation! Prepare to slay the dragon!"

The Shenxiao Sect disciples quickly formed a battle formation, their swords flashing faintly in the rain, like a few flickering lamps in a storm that could be extinguished at any moment.

Only Chen Yi remained seated.

His deep gaze pierced through the heavy rain, calmly landing on the rushing blood-red "water dragon," as if watching a play that had nothing to do with him.

The "water dragon" rushed straight towards the stone bridge with a devastating force!
Just as the enormous shadow of the dragon's head was about to engulf the stone bridge.

scoff!

An indescribable sharp sound tore through the wind and rain, as if cloth had been instantly slicing through a blade.

The unstoppable, blood-red, and destructive flood suddenly collapsed less than ten feet from the stone bridge!
The towering water wall exploded with a roar, turning into a sky full of mist. Hundreds of millions of icy water droplets shot and spread in the downpour, forming a white curtain.

Amidst the billowing mist, a crimson figure shot into the sky like an arrow released from a bow, rising from the depths of the churning, turbid waves.

"Hahaha! Say slay the dragon, slay the dragon!"

Hearty, carefree, and exhilarating—the joy of wandering the world.
Laughter pierced through gold and shattered rocks, drowning out the roar of the flood and scattering the wind and rain.

Then, to everyone's utter astonishment, the outline of the enormous dragon's head, which had been blurred deep within the murky floodwaters, was fully revealed.

But it was a…

A hideous severed head, cleanly cut off at the root!

The cut was smooth as a mirror, and dark red dragon blood gushed out like a waterfall, continuously staining the surging, turbid water below.
Amidst the billowing mist, the crimson figure deftly spun around and landed steadily on the wet stone bridge railing.

Rainwater rolled down her hair. She raised her hand to wipe the rain from her face, revealing a bright and flamboyant face. Her gaze was like lightning, sweeping over the terrified crowd and the dumbfounded Shenxiao Sect members below.

It was Min Ning!

The enormous dragon corpse, having lost its head, crashed into the raging torrent like a mountain stripped of all its power, creating towering waves.

The muddy, yellowish-brown floodwaters, mixed with dark red dragon blood and shattered scales, resembled a filthy, blood-red mudslide. It carried the enormous, headless dragon's body, rumbling and surging down the riverbed with terrifying force, yet it had lost all vitality and ferocity.

The stone bridge was shaking, and the crowd was deathly silent.

All that remained was the sound of wind and rain, and the red-clad knight standing on the bridge railing, covered in blood but radiant with spirit.

(End of this chapter)