Thousand-Faced Dragon

Chapter 490 Clenching a Fist
Since Wu arrived, every night has had only one theme—killing.

There is no option of being killed, because even though his power has been compressed to the same level as his opponent, no one has been able to injure him. Aside from his absurd actions, such as directly testing the hardness of the heir's fist in his face, no one has been able to threaten him in the slightest.

That was an absolute gap, the crushing dominance of a veteran who had fought thousands or even tens of thousands of battles over a promising new recruit.

"You look a bit better than you did a few days ago."

"Did you get praised?"

But some people will receive praise.

Some people, however, simply scoff and ignore. He consistently disregards the weak, especially those who are slow to make progress and lack ambition.

Whether you choose to be weak or stagnant is up to you. He even seemed somewhat expectant.

I really hope to see those lazy kids who say "I'm fine as I am," "Don't push yourself too hard," and "I need to rest before I can continue" truly face the despair of those facing dire disasters.

Do they realize that, faced with inescapable misfortune, only their own fists and their own strength can carve out a new path for them?

Power is a source of misfortune, but without power, isn't there only misfortune?

"Your Excellency Wu!"

The sudden shout brought him back to his senses, and his blood-red eyes returned to calm.

All around were limbs and heads.

The "corpses" were looking at him, and they seemed to be dead again.

"Come again."

The candidates were stunned, but the heroic spirits wouldn't let them off easy, and the slaughter resumed.

He won't teach; if you want to learn, just hit him.

These "zombies," despite their best efforts to resist, once again became remnants of souls under Li En's fists. Rean confirmed once again that Wu was somewhat face-blind, or rather, once he started killing, he simply couldn't be bothered to distinguish his opponents.

Unbeknownst to him, as the price of possessing power, as the price of cursing himself, the world Wu saw was completely different from that of others.

"There are corpses everywhere. The corpses are talking."

He had long since lost the ability to distinguish between the inanimate and the living. In his eyes, whether it was Rean or a beautiful woman, they all stared at him with lifeless, dead eyes and stiff, corpse-like bodies.

As the price for traversing life and death, all he saw were corpses. A normal person would probably be driven mad by a world full of corpses, but he enjoyed the tranquility.

"Crack!"

His right hand fingers twisted, making a cracking sound from his knuckles; he wanted to create some new zombies, or turn some existing ones into pieces.

Its blood-red pupils are of excellent performance; it can see scenes several kilometers away, yet it can only ever see black, white, and gray.

The mushrooms and flowers along the road all looked rotten and decayed, and the air was always filled with the stench of corpses.

The earth is also rotten and sticky, and the corpse hands from hell are always trying to drag it into hell.

What he saw was a pale, lifeless face; what he touched was black, foul-smelling lividity; and what looked at him was always the stiff, lifeless gaze of a dead man. It was quite rare that Wu hadn't gone mad.

Or perhaps he was insane from beginning to end to be able to stay in this world where only the dead exist.

"Do you truly possess the awareness to inherit this legacy?"

That mocking tone seemed to be a provocation from the mentor.

Is he making his heir squeeze out every last drop of energy to prove his potential and qualifications?

To others, this was merely a lesson for the spirits of heroes.

But probably no one knows that this was just Wu's subconscious muttering to himself, and there was still half of it left.
"Perhaps, it is the right thing to let this power disappear completely into history."

This power, which continues to evolve and could even plunge the entire earth and the world into death, this power cursed by the very origin of the world—should it really exist?
Wu hesitated.

Unlike Su'er and the others, could he truly be called a heroic spirit? His life had been nothing but regret. "Do you really deserve to wield this power?"

The seemingly calm inquiry, the seemingly provocation of the disciple, actually reflected Wu's still bewildered heart.

He was always asking himself questions.

As a heroic spirit, he failed miserably. Both in his heart and in his actions, he was far from being a hero. Even though he had once killed a demon lord who was corrupting the prime plane.

"I just didn't like that arrogant fool. I've always only ever thrown punches for myself. I'm never a hero. Maybe I should take that power to my grave."

A tiny flame and a volcano are not the same thing, even though they are both essentially the same "fire element".

The spirits of heroes gave him the seeds of power, and Wu himself felt that the seeds he received were extremely vital.

By the late Wu period, it was already a world-ending speck of death, enough to bring about the demise of the continent.

He hesitated, wondering if giving this power to these children would lead them down the same path as him.

Will they also suffer from the misfortune brought about by power, spending their lives in regret and pain, forever trapped in this living hell?

He also worried that he might leave a scar on the world after he died. The scar he left behind back then probably hasn't healed yet.

"Your Excellency Wu, we may be weak now, but we will become stronger and will not bring shame to your name. No, we will achieve immortal feats and leave your name in history."

The ambitious blue dragon said that he longed to stand at the top rather than to establish a reputation for his "mentor".

He craved power and fame because he felt his mentor also needed it. Are nameless heroes truly willing to lose their immense power and simply vanish into history?
Wu remained noncommittal.

If given this dragon, he would use it without hesitation.

"I don't know. Whether I have the power or not, I will keep going. If I do, all the better."

Felipe said he simply viewed it as a tool, something to have if he wanted, but something else if he didn't.

However, although you say "no power is evil," you, a genius without reverence, are actually using a "nuclear bomb" like a punch, and you might accidentally mess it up.

Both destined powerhouses provided their answers, which made Wu laugh.

It's so true, just like my past self, like that eternally tormented self.

Unbeknownst to them, it was time for the last weakling's response.

Could she offer a different answer?
"I cannot promise to unleash this full power; I am weak."

Compared to the other two candidates, Talia, who had experienced inhuman surgery and killing, became a very ordinary and unremarkable former assassin and an average professional.

She had always felt somewhat inferior, believing that she was not qualified to be part of the ranks of the Heroic Spirit successors.

The other heirs explained how to use it, but she lacked even the confidence to fully inherit it.

"My abilities are limited; I'm not confident I can inherit this power."

"Useless!" Wu, a martial monk who despised the weak, directly scoffed at this weakness.

Even if I gave you this power, you wouldn't dare to use it.

The seemingly superfluous words startled Talia, but the next moment, she shook her head.

“I will use it, but I will use it cautiously. When necessary, that power can change those misfortunes and disasters that bring suffering.”

Upon hearing this, Blue Dragon smiled. In his opinion, this weakness was not even worthy of being a hero's successor, let alone a strong person.

Meanwhile, Li En remained silent, his soul perception allowing him to sense joy—the first emotion he felt since meeting Wu, aside from regret and anger.

"You bunch of good-for-nothings, talk is cheap. Show me your achievements!"

(End of this chapter)