Black Armor
The scorching dragon blood dripped into the dust, leaving no trace on the seabed, as if instantly sucked away by the all-consuming darkness. Ao Guang supported himself on the broken base of the glazed pillar, his back slightly hunched. The backlash from forcibly extracting the essence of his spiritual veins was like thousands of icy needles piercing deep within his bone marrow, stirring the dragon soul that had been assimilated to the deep sea for millennia.
But he didn't allow himself to fall.
He stood straight and wiped the blood from the corner of his lips with his sleeve, his movements almost cruelly graceful. As the black sleeve of his robe passed by, his pale face was left with the coldness and calmness of jade about to be incinerated.
He no longer looked at the devastated, spiritually extinguished treasure cave. He turned and walked out step by step. His steps were heavier and slower than when he came in, and each step felt like stepping on the broken bones of his own dragon.
The Dragon Head Hall remained dead silent. Prime Minister Old Turtle had long since vanished, perhaps carrying out his decree to overturn the four seas, or perhaps he had retreated to a deeper corner, afraid to face the dead silence after the Dragon King's return.
Ao Guang did not return to the throne.
He walked to the side of the hall, where a massive wall, polished from a single block of dark jade, stood. The wall, smooth as a mirror, reflected not the current scene within the hall but a fleeting, frozen image—the very miniature altar scene he had conjured from the colored glass core in the Treasure Cave.
The little figures in black and red are frozen in the moment of reaching out their hands and looking back. The corals and fishes around them are shining with the cold and fragile luster unique to glass.
He stretched out his finger, and his fingertips gently touched the figure of the little man in red through the slightly cool jade wall.
"What you asked for..." He whispered to the illusory shadow, his voice as hoarse as the friction between gravel and sand, "I'll give it to you."
"The four seas are my betrothal gifts... Endless expanses of glazed glass..." He curled his lips, the curve of his mouth icy. "You said it was vulgar, unworthy of your wings that soar through the heavens."
The image on the jade wall naturally gave him no response. Only the red of the glass stung his eyes.
Memories from a thousand years ago surged up uncontrollably, not with the warmth of golden sunlight, but with the scorching heat of blood and gun smoke.
It was after the collapse of Mount Buzhou, the world crumbled, the Celestial River overflowed, and floods ravaged the three realms. He and she were ordered to work together to control the flood. She was the last Yinglong in the world, her wings spread wide, capable of soaring 90,000 miles, her tail slicing the earth and guiding the torrents; he was the Dragon King of the East Sea, commanding all the waters and calming the waves.
They once stood side by side on the top of the huge waves that had not yet subsided, with the turbid flood that was rolling and swallowing life under their feet and the gloomy sky above their heads.
"When this matter is over and the four seas are at peace," he remembered saying, his voice a little muffled by the wind and waves, "I will offer the four seas as a betrothal gift to you and welcome you to the East China Sea. There is no need to be bound by the rules of Heaven. You and I can be free and unrestrained."
She was soaking wet, her armor stained with mud, her hair plastered to her face, yet she turned and smiled at him. That smile lacked the shyness of an ordinary woman, but instead held the bright, almost razor-sharp aura of a god of war, along with a subtle hint of fatigue.
"Ao Guang, what else does your East China Sea Dragon Palace have besides shiny rocks?" she jokingly said, raising her hand to wipe away the water droplets that splashed on her chin. "What do I need those for? Why don't you accompany me to the top of Kunlun Mountain to watch the sea of clouds appear and disappear again?"
At that time, he just thought she was being unruly and joking.
Later, just as the flood was about to subside, an imperial decree arrived from Heaven, summoning Yinglong to return immediately to the Heavenly Palace to report on another important mission. As they parted, she looked back at him with a complex expression, hesitant to speak, and finally only said, "Ao Guang, wait for me to come back."
He believed it.
So, he returned to the edge of the East China Sea and began to wait. A year, ten years, a hundred years... He banished all living creatures from the Dragon Palace that might disturb his waiting, turning it into a tomb. He refused all summons from the Celestial Court and all contact with the four immortal realms, completely sealing off the East China Sea. From the deepest depths of the sea, relying on memories and that increasingly vague promise, he constructed a dream of a wedding, a dream of sunshine and clarity, reinforcing it day by day, bordering on obsession.
He thought that she would eventually break free from the constraints of the heavenly rules and return as promised.
But she received the marriage invitation to the Prince of the Emperor of Heaven.
"Wait for me to come back..." Ao Guang's fingers tightened suddenly, his nails almost digging into the jade wall. The illusory figure in red twisted slightly under his fingers. "So, what I've been waiting for... is this."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the cold and rotten air of the deep sea.
When he opened his eyes again, the last bit of warmth that belonged to "Ao Guang" had completely disappeared. In its place was a pure, almost nihilistic determination.
He turned around and stopped looking at the water jade wall.
Walking into the depths of the Dragon Palace, there is a secret room that even the old turtle prime minister rarely steps into.
Inside the secret room, there were no pearls, no decorations, only a suit of armor hanging in the center.
The armor was a pitch-black black, its construction unknown. Its surface was not smooth, but instead covered in fine, ancient dragon scale patterns. The edges of each scale shone with a cold, sharp edge that seemed capable of slicing light. The shoulder armor was shaped like a ferocious dragon head, its mouth slightly open, revealing sharp teeth. The entire suit of armor lay silent, yet it naturally exuded a primordial, ferocious aura that froze the surrounding water.
This is the "Mysterious Armor of Silence" left by the ancestor of the Dragon Clan. It must not be used except in the critical moment of the clan's survival. The last time it appeared in the world was during the first catastrophe of the Dragon Han Dynasty.
Ao Guang stretched out his hand and brushed his fingertips across the cold armor.
The black armor seemed to be awakened, and its dense scales made a very slight "kaka" sound, like a living creature breathing. The next moment, it turned into a black flowing shadow, automatically disintegrating and covering Ao Guang's body.
The shoulder armor snapped shut, the chest armor covered, the arm guards, the kilt... each part made a low, dragon-like hum as it fitted his body. As the last piece of armor fell, obscuring his pale, expressionless face, revealing only a pair of dragon eyes burning with dark flames, the temperature in the entire chamber plummeted, and even the space itself began to warp slightly.
He is no longer the Dragon King Ao Guang who had been waiting in the deep sea for a thousand years.
He is a weapon, a ferocious beast born to destroy.
He raised his hand and grasped the air.
The wall on one side of the chamber burst open, and a stream of dark golden light shot out and landed in his palm. It was a long halberd, with a lifelike black dragon coiled around its body, its head the tip and its tail the crown. The entire halberd exuded an ominous, all-removing aura—one of the dragon clan's sacred artifacts, the Ni Lin Halberd.
He holds the Ni Lin Halberd in his hand and is covered with the Xuan Armor of Annihilation.
He stepped out of the secret room.
At that moment, the entire East China Sea Dragon Palace let out a wail of collapse, straining under the weight. The palace began to shake violently, beams and pillars cracking, and rubble falling. The barrier that had maintained a dead silence for a thousand years began to shatter from within.
The turbulent and chaotic undercurrent from the outside world suddenly rushed in, sweeping up the dust that had been deposited for thousands of years, as if the end of the world had come.
Ao Guang's figure went upstream amidst the collapsed palace and chaotic rapids, heading towards the sea, towards the Yao Chi hanging high above the nine heavens, which was now decorated with lights and holding a wedding, and soared into the sky.
Wherever it passed, the sea water automatically parted, as if fearing the king's arrival, or as if making way for a mad dragon on a desperate road.
His goal has never been so clear.
Nine Heavens. Yaochi.
Her wedding.
He wanted to go there in person and ask why.
Or, don't ask at all.
All you need is blood-stained cloud steps.
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