Chapter Seventy-Six: The Azure Dragon Ancestor Stirs

“It’s already been over five hundred thousand years; don’t let me down.”
Fan Wuwei seemed to ignite, flames bursting from his body, painting the entire mountain behind in a fiery red glow.

“Hah, I’ll return those words to you unchanged. I’ve spent five hundred thousand years in the Divine Realm, Fan Wuwei—don’t you dare let me down.”
At this moment, Jun Yang’s momentum soared, electric currents snaking around him, shooting toward the heavens. The ancient Azure Dragon Sword in his hand seemed to react to this surge, roaring thunderously.

Fan Wuwei was beside himself with excitement; this was the moment he had anticipated for so long.

He had finally ascended to the Sacred Sovereign Realm, yet was unable to spar with Jun Yang in the Divine Realm—an unbearable frustration that perhaps no one else could fathom.

Fan Lihua could no longer hide. She sprang to her feet, stunned and wide-eyed.

Scenes like this were never easily witnessed.

Her clan’s patriarch was obviously about to go all out.

Who was this familiar young man, to warrant such seriousness and caution from her own ancestor?

Fan Wuwei laughed heartily and charged with the Torch Dragon Mace.

The collision of the Azure Dragon Sword and the Torch Dragon Mace was cataclysmic.

The sky above their heads seemed to split apart.

Dark clouds rolled inward from all directions, thundering ominously.

Even though a soundproofing array had been set, the spectacle was far too conspicuous.

A crowd gathered curiously at the gates of the Torch Dragon Clan.

“What’s happened to the sky?”

“Strange indeed—how did a rift appear up there?”

Their curiosity soon gave way to mounting terror.

The rift deepened, devouring the surging black clouds from all around.

Qing Yushan, who had been in seclusion, abruptly opened his eyes and shot out of his cave.

The household servant, dozing at the entrance, was startled awake in an instant.

“Patriarch!”

Qing Yushan frowned, looking up toward the sky above the Torch Dragon Clan. “What’s happening over there?”

The servant looked up, finally noticing the terrifying change in the sky.

“This… this…”

He stammered helplessly, unable to make sense of it, but when he looked again, his patriarch was already gone.

Qing Yushan flew straight toward the Torch Dragon Clan.

The Torch Dragon Clan was busy pursuing the various tasks assigned by their patriarch, paying no heed to the commotion at home.

When the gatekeepers saw Qing Yushan, they looked as if they’d seen a ghost.

Without so much as a greeting, Qing Yushan slipped inside, coming to stand behind Fan Lihua.

Her attention was wholly fixed on the battle between Fan Wuwei and Jun Yang; she hadn’t noticed Qing Yushan’s arrival.

The duelists sensed him, but in the heat of their contest, neither spared him a thought.

“I didn’t expect you to spend over half a million years in the Divine Realm and not lose your edge one bit,” Fan Wuwei said.

He had already transformed, revealing the Torch Dragon’s tail.

The massive tail swept down on Jun Yang like a mountain, wreathed in searing flames.

Jun Yang’s wings flickered, and he dodged effortlessly.

The ancient Azure Dragon Sword rose into the sky, gathering mighty thunderbolts.

The sword morphed into a colossal dragon, lightning coiling about it, roaring as it lunged for Fan Wuwei’s tail.

Fan Wuwei couldn’t evade—the attack struck true, ringing out with a sound like clashing steel, deafening and powerful.

Jun Yang showed no mercy for the sake of old friendship. As Fan Wuwei endured the sword’s assault, Jun Yang raised his left palm, channeling immense spiritual force and drove it straight at Fan Wuwei’s chest.

Fan Wuwei, barely recovering from the blow to his tail, quickly raised the Torch Dragon Mace to block Jun Yang’s formidable palm.

Though it was palm versus mace, Jun Yang was by no means at a disadvantage. The Torch Dragon Mace was struck by Jun Yang’s lightning, growing even hotter—beyond its own capacity.

Fan Wuwei could scarcely hold on, retreating quickly with a couple of leaps.

Jun Yang remained the picture of celestial grace, his robes untouched.

Fan Wuwei, however, was in a sorry state.

His tail ached terribly, and his palms were scorched red.

“How did you manage this, old man? After all those years suppressed in the Divine Realm, your cultivation hasn’t declined in the slightest—it’s even improved.”

The Azure Dragon Sword obediently returned to Jun Yang’s side, ready for battle.

“Still want to fight?”

Though the Snake Clan had returned to the Sacred Realm some time ago, Jun Yang’s heart still felt hollow and unreal—until this battle with Fan Wuwei.

Only now did he truly feel that the Snake Clan had returned, that he himself had returned, to this Sacred Realm.

Qing Yushan looked at Jun Yang with a complex gaze, then at the subdued Azure Dragon Sword.

This weapon once belonged to the Azure Dragon Clan, yet now it bowed and scraped before an outsider—enough to reveal the power of the man before him.

“No more, I yield,” Fan Wuwei said, glancing at Qing Yushan, who was staring at the Azure Dragon Sword.

He had lost enough face already; to keep fighting and risk being trampled under Jun Yang’s feet as in the old days would be unbearable—especially before the younger generation.

Jun Yang sheathed the Azure Dragon Sword, dispelled the protective array, and walked toward Qing Yushan.

“It’s been a long time.”

Fan Lihua was bewildered, thinking Jun Yang was speaking to her.

She pointed at herself, uncertain, until a deep voice sounded behind her.

“It’s been a long time.”

Fan Lihua jumped in fright, finally realizing the patriarch of the Azure Dragon Clan was right behind her.

Fan Wuwei put away the Torch Dragon Mace, tidied himself, and walked over to Qing Yushan, shooting a glare at the unruly Fan Lihua along the way.

“What brings you here?” Fan Wuwei’s tone was less than welcoming, forgetting how, only a few years ago, he’d humbly pestered Qing Yushan for sparring matches.

Qing Yushan raised an eyebrow. “Did you think a soundproofing array would keep others unaware? Such a surge of spiritual power—do you take me for a corpse? Or all the other clan chiefs?”

Fan Wuwei scratched his head, realizing at last that a crowd of curious clansmen had gathered at his gates.

Jun Yang, unconcerned—it wasn’t his own clan’s doorstep, after all—stood at ease.

“Haven’t your people found any news yet?”

Fan Wuwei cursed inwardly, but still sounded a little intimidated: “How long has it been? That incident was tens of thousands of years ago—it’ll take time. Besides, why are you in such a hurry?”

Jun Yang couldn’t say why, but being separated from You Xiyue made him deeply uneasy.

“Why ask so much? Just make the inquiries as I asked.”

Fan Wuwei pursed his lips, muttering under his breath, “Asking for help and still so fierce.”

“What was that?” Jun Yang shot him a cold look.

“Nothing…”

Qing Yushan shook his head helplessly. This old Torch Dragon, after hundreds of thousands of years, was still so wary of the old Snake.

“What is it you’re investigating?”

“The Immortal Wandering Map. Do you know who has ever been sealed inside it?” Jun Yang replied.

“The Immortal Wandering Map? The one whose cultivation fell from Golden Saint to Nascent Soul?” Qing Yushan’s memory was sharp; he quickly sifted through his recollections.

“You know?!” Jun Yang seized Qing Yushan’s arm in delight. “Tell me, quickly!”