socalfunplaces Chapter 808 Someone is Following Us
Chapter 808 Someone is Following Us
Long Si merely smiled faintly, offering no further words. It was normal that Xiao Shuai, with his still shallow cultivation, couldn't sense the hidden aura. He slowly raised his hand and gently pushed a half-person-high gray boulder to the side. The seemingly casual movement carried an irresistible force. The boulder instantly detached from the ground, flying away with a whistling sound, like a gray lightning bolt, crashing into a dense forest twenty feet away.
"Oh!"
Unexpectedly, before the stone even reached the edge of the dense forest, it shattered into countless fragments in mid-air with a "crack," then turned into dust and fell to the ground without leaving a trace. Two figures slowly emerged from the forest, a young man and a young woman. The man wore a silver-white robe, its hem fluttering in the wind, and a lustrous jade pendant with a dragon pattern hung at his waist, gleaming faintly in the sunlight. His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, as if they could see into people's hearts. The woman wore a light green dress, her long hair as black as ink cascading down her shoulders, her skin as white as snow, and a half-smile playing on her lips. She appeared gentle, but her eyes held a hint of aloofness.
Xiao Shuai's heart skipped a beat. He subconsciously circulated his spiritual energy to probe the cultivation levels of the two, only to find that the other party seemed to be shrouded in an invisible barrier. His spiritual energy was bounced back as soon as it approached, like a mud ox sinking into the sea, and he couldn't see through its depth at all. This feeling was like an ant looking up at a towering mountain, which made him feel suffocated for no reason, and even his breathing became a little rapid.
He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white, wanting to try again, but Long Si waved his hand and laughed, "Alright, their strength is beyond your comprehension right now. Go wait over there and don't say anything out of line."
Xiao Shuai blushed and retreated somewhat awkwardly behind a boulder. He knew in his heart that his abilities were truly insignificant in front of their opponents—with his innate spiritual veins, he had broken through to the Spirit Transformation Realm at the age of fifteen, making him a once-in-a-century genius in his clan, and the elders all placed high hopes on him. But facing these two, he didn't even have the slightest courage to make a move. The faint but palpable pressure emanating from them felt like an invisible mountain pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe, and even the flow of his spiritual energy became sluggish.
The silver-robed man stepped forward, his gaze falling on Long Si, carrying an innate arrogance: "Long Si, as the patriarch of the Flood Dragon Clan, how dare you lead your clan members out of the territory without permission, violating the prohibitions set by our Dragon Clan? Are you tired of living?"
Long Si looked up at him, his eyes calm and unwavering, as if he didn't take the other's provocation seriously: "Long Tian, Long Jiao, stop beating around the bush. Over the years, haven't my Flood Dragon Clan paid your Dragon Clan enough spiritual artifacts and herbs every year? Last year alone, we sent three thousand-year-old Flood Dragon Inner Cores, all obtained by our clan's disciples through painstaking efforts. Now that you've come chasing after us, what more do you want?"
Long Tian smiled, waved his hand, and said in a somewhat nonchalant tone, "Don't worry, we're not here to ask for treasures this time. We're here to find someone."
Long Si understood, but his face remained impassive. He knew this wasn't the time to completely antagonize the Dragon Clan—the Dragon Clan possessed a profound foundation, a legacy spanning millennia, and their accumulated supernatural abilities and secret techniques far surpassed those of the Flood Dragon Clan. Although these two were among the younger generation of the Dragon Clan, they were already at the late Golden Dragon Realm, their strength not to be underestimated. While he was confident of victory, a direct fight would likely result in mutual destruction, a net loss, and his clan's members would also be implicated. Suppressing his inner turmoil, he asked in a deep voice, "Tell me, who are you looking for?"
Long Tian gave Long Jiao a wink. Long Jiao stepped forward, her voice clear as a silver bell, yet carrying an undeniable force: "We feel that your Flood Dragon Clan has developed too rapidly in recent years, your power growing stronger day by day, and it seems somewhat out of control. Fortunately, we've heard that your son, Long Shishen, possesses innate spiritual bones and is a once-in-ten-thousand-years genius, with aptitude far surpassing his peers. Our Dragon Clan is willing to take him in and let him cultivate deep within the Dragon Palace, where there are ancient inherited spiritual pools and rare natural treasures, which will surely help him break through to the next level. This is an immense benefit for your Flood Dragon Clan; many demon clans would kill for it."
Long Si's face instantly darkened, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes—he knew the Dragon Clan harbored ill intentions! Long Shishen was his only son, born with the bloodline of an ancient dragon, able to summon wind at three and rain at five, and having reached the Dragon Transformation Realm in just ten years, he was the only hope for the revival of the dragon clan. The Dragon Clan claimed to be "nurturing" him, but in reality, they wanted to take him away as a hostage, and might even secretly cripple his spiritual bones; they would never allow a genius to threaten their position to emerge from the dragon clan!
"You've certainly got a good plan." Long Si's voice turned cold, and a faint mist began to rise around him, causing the humidity in the air to suddenly increase. "If you want to touch my son, first ask the Flood Dragon Spear in my hand if it agrees!" Before he finished speaking, a phantom image of a long, azure spear appeared behind him, its shaft shrouded in mist and radiating a chilling pressure.
The air pressure around Long Si suddenly dropped several degrees, as if the surrounding seawater had frozen into ice. He stared intently at Long Tian in front of him and the group of dragon clan followers clad in black armor behind him, his eyes surging with suppressed rage. Every word he uttered was like ice being quenched, crashing onto the sea and creating shards of ice: "I haven't shortchanged you on any of the treasures you were supposed to give me! The luminous pearl of the East Sea, the thousand-year-old coral of the South Sea, the deep-sea cold iron of the West Sea—aren't these rare treasures that would make immortal sects fight tooth and nail for them? You've demanded them every year, and our dragon clan has gritted our teeth and made offerings. Now you're insatiable, even trying to take my son—he's the last surviving member of my dragon clan. Don't even think about it! Don't even think about it!"
Long Tian stood there, his long silver robe fluttering slightly in the sea breeze, the golden dragons embroidered on his sleeves seeming to break free of the fabric and take flight. A nonchalant smile played on his lips, but his eyes held a haughty gaze, like looking down upon ants from the heavens, his tone laced with unquestionable arrogance: "You don't have to give it to me." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the circling dragons—those of his clan, their scales dull and their aura weary, were no different from roadside pebbles in his eyes. "It's just that our dragon clan elders have discussed this for a long time and feel that your dragon clan… has mixed bloodlines and weak fighting power. There is indeed no need for you to remain in this East Sea."
"You're forcing me!" Long Si took a step forward, and the water around him surged instantly, creating waves several meters high. "My son is the last bloodline of our dragon clan, the only hope to survive this century-long calamity! What exactly do you want to do? Are you determined to wipe us out, leaving us no way out?" His voice was hoarse, filled with despair like blood foam, and the muscles beneath his scales were taut like a fully drawn bowstring.