"Enough..."
A single word.
Yet it shattered the world like a celestial decree.
The Dragon Emperor froze. His breath caught, his heart clenched, and for a terrifying moment—his blood ran in reverse.
An unseen force raged through his body, throwing his internal energy into chaos. His very essence rebelled against him, unraveling as if the heavens themselves rejected his existence.
His once-golden throne, a symbol of supreme authority, dimmed.
The dragon might that he had so arrogantly wielded collapsed.
The power of his ancestral bloodline—the very force that had crushed Ao Lian moments ago—recoiled inward, shriveling into submission.
A single word had reduced him to this.
And he was not alone.
The entire throne room, once bathed in opulent light, turned ashen grey. The divine luster of the palace—faded. The world around them darkened, as though the celestial order itself had been rewritten.
A deathly chill crept into their bones.
No one spoke. No one moved.
No one dared to.
Not the high and mighty Dragon Emperor. Not the seven Dragon Tribe Leaders.
Not even the ancient elders, whose wisdom spanned millennia.
The throne room, filled with some of the most powerful beings in existence, had become a silent grave.
And then—the sky changed. A shadow loomed above.
The four golden suns had eclipsed.
What should have been a radiant beacon of warmth turned into an abyssal void, casting a stark grey light upon the throne room—and the entire Dragon Realm.
Yet… the world outside remained untouched.
This darkness was not natural. This silence was not ordinary. This fear was not happenstance.
It was deliberate. It was controlled.
From the very heart of the eclipse, a figure emerged.
Not hastily. Not aggressively. But with an unshakable, measured grace.
A slow, steady stride. A presence that demanded nothing—yet took everything.
Dai Long had arrived.
No. He had arrived with not even his true body. A mere clone.
Yet its arrival had silenced an emperor. It had brought the throne room to its knees.
It had darkened the heavens themselves.
Behind him, the swirling void condensed, taking shape—not of chaos, but of something absolute.
A throne.
A seat of endless darkness speckled with countless shimmering stars. They did not simply glow. They burned—Because they were not mere lights.
They were real Stars.
A throne forged from the cosmos itself. It moved with him, gliding through the air as if it had always been meant to follow. And with effortless poise, Dai Long sat.
His expression remained unchanged.
To him, this was nothing more than another day. Yet, in the silence of his arrival, his crimson-red eyes locked onto Ao Lian.
His servant. His advisor. His loyal shadow.
Struggling. Battered. Barely standing.
Dai Long did not sigh.
He did not frown. He merely lifted a single hand.
And Ao Lian vanished. Not destroyed. Not harmed. Simply… removed from this part of the world. Pulled from this disgraceful spectacle in an instant.
Then, at last—Dai Long turned his gaze. His eyes found Yu Shenlong.
A single nod of respect was given, he ignored the other leaders.
And then—he turned to Cai Shen.
The Dragon Emperor. Instantly, the world grew heavier.
The very air itself thickened, pressing down upon the throne room like the weight of an entire galaxy.
No one could move. Not the elders. Not the seven Dragon Tribe Leaders. Not even the strongest warriors are present. Only Yu Shenlong sat untouched….and unbothered by this pressure, as he too was a Sage.
And yet, amidst this terrifying display, Mo Li smiled. He alone felt at ease.
Because this—this overwhelming presence, this suffocating force, this undeniable might—
Was his lord's. And for Mo Li…this was nothing.
He had seen and felt Dai Long do far worse. Far, far worse.
Mo Li cast his gaze downward—and what he saw was both amusing and predictable.
Nearly everyone beneath the Immortal Emperor realm had already collapsed, their bodies unable to withstand the sheer pressure of Dai Long's clone.
Even Mo Wujin.
Though, to his credit, his brow was furrowed, his face twisted as though he was fighting against unconsciousness.
Good.
That struggle meant something. It meant he had the willpower to resist. A small flicker of defiance that spoke of great potential.
A bright future awaited him.
Mo Li turned his attention back to the scene before him, eager to witness what would happen next—now that his lord had arrived.
And when his eyes fell upon the Dragon Emperor…
Well.
He nearly died laughing. But he forced himself to hold it in.
Cai Shen looked… small.
Incredibly, pathetically small.
The mighty Dragon Emperor, who once carried himself with arrogance and divine authority, now sat frozen on his golden throne, his body rigid with pure, unfiltered fear.
His chest barely rose and fell, as if even breathing had become an impossible task.
His mind teetered on the brink of shutting down entirely—all from the simple act of meeting Dai Long's blood-red eyes.
It was at this moment that he finally understood.
He had been foolish. A blind man demanding the sun bow before him.
A mere emperor, not even a Sage, daring to summon Dai Long—one of the youngest and most terrifyingly powerful Dragon Sages in history—
And demanding explanations.
Had he truly believed himself equal? Had he truly thought there would be no price for his arrogance?
He had almost just died.
That realization alone shattered him.
Cai Shen sat on his once-glorious throne of gold, but it no longer felt like a seat of power.
It felt like a cage. A meaningless, fragile thing beneath the presence of the one who sat upon the throne of the cosmos.
Beside him, Yu Shenlong merely shook his head.
He had done enough. And he would not intervene again.
So he simply watched.
Cai Shen, meanwhile, sat in stunned silence. His sense of self—his belief in his own power—was utterly null.
The only thing keeping his mind from complete obliteration was his older brother's presence.
Even then, it was not enough.
His mind was drowning—suffocating—beneath the ocean of blood reflected in Dai Long's crimson gaze.
Then, a voice—low, calm, and merciless—pierced through the silence.
"Before I begin, Cai, I want you to know…"
Dai Long's words were slow. Measured. Absolute.
"I am greatly disappointed in you."
The throne room quaked beneath the weight of his words.
"You have let your lust for power, for recognition, and for dominance blind you."
Dai Long's voice did not rise. He did not roar, nor did he thunder with rage.
Yet his words cut through the very marrow of the soul.
"No wonder you cannot advance further in your cultivation."
A silence heavier than death followed.
"You have allowed… little worms and maggots to infect your very sense of self."
Dai Long lifted his hand.
And with a single snap of his fingers—the old man with silver eyebrows, the very same fool who had spoken Dai Long's name with complete disregard, was ripped from his place and thrown into the center of the room.
The room grew colder, and the air thickened.
The man barely had time to gasp.
"Case in point," Dai Long murmured.
His blood-red eyes gleamed.
"This maggot has no right to speak my name as he did."
The old man trembled. His lips parted—
Dai Long lifted a single finger.
Flick!
And as if it were the most casual, insignificant thing in the world—The silver-browed elder ceased to exist. He became a nameless memory, forgotten in the world.
No scream. No struggle. No resistance.
Only dust.
And that dust—as though carrying its own will—floated toward Cai Shen.
And it fell upon his lap…Like a sack of potatoes.
But Cai Shen's body reacted as if a mountain had just crushed him. His legs bruised instantly, the weight of the dust alone pressing into his bones.
And there, in his mind, he understood. Even if he had a Sage backing him, it wouldn't matter. It never would have.
Not to him. Not to Dai Long. Because for a being like him, killing a Sage was just an ordinary, everyday thing.
To his brother, it was just another flick of his finger .And he would cease to exist.
The weight of that realization crashed down upon Cai Shen.
His once-proud green eyes, so full of arrogance and self-importance, now held only emptiness.
Their luster faded. Their brilliance was extinguished. Like a candle snuffed out by the sheer, overwhelming force of reality.
Dai Long watched—his expression unreadable—as the truth sank into his brother's soul.
His message received.
Satisfied, Dai Long turned his attention away from the hollow-eyed emperor.
He had no interest in broken things.
There was a reason he had come here today.
An announcement.
But first—the room needed fixing. With the smallest snort, his immense, suffocating pressure vanished. The air, once thick with the weight of absolute dominion, suddenly felt light.
It was as if nothing had happened. And yet—everything had.
Across the throne room, thousands of bodies jerked awake.
They gasped, blinking in confusion, their minds blank—as if they had merely drifted off for a moment.
They had no idea. No idea that, in those moments of unconsciousness, people had died.
No idea that those very same people had been brought back to life with nothing more than a thought from Dai Long. No idea that their precious Dragon Emperor had just been handed the most brutal awakening of his life.
Only a select few knew the truth.
The Seven Dragon Tribe Leaders and their men.
Dai Long had ensured that they saw everything.
They would remember. They would carry this lesson in their bones. This is what happens to those who go against him. This is what happens to those who disrespect him.
And standing among them, with an expression far removed from the fear of others—
It was Mo Li.
His mind burned with excitement, unlike anyone else in the room.
Because he knew. He knew.
Something had changed. His lord… had changed.
He felt it, saw it in the way Dai Long carried himself. In the weight of his presence.
The fire had returned. The grit. The hunger.
He must have found something. Something that brought him back to life.
Mo Li couldn't wait to learn what it was. He wouldn't have to wait long.
Because in the next moment—
SNAP!
An ear-piercing snap rang through the air. It resonated. With the world and It echoed into their very souls.
It shook the bones of every single soul present. Hundreds of thousands of people snapped their heads toward the source of the sound. Their gazes landed on the throne of darkness.
The seat of a god. And the man who sat upon it.
To them, he looked immense. He was like a shadowy colossus of absolute dominion, as if the very fabric of the world bowed to his existence.
His presence was cosmic, boundless, an abyss of power and certainty.
The darkness of his throne was no ordinary void—it was alive.
A vast expanse filled with countless distant stars, flickering like the very heavens had been condensed into his seat of power.
And upon that throne of eternity, Dai Long sat. Not as a ruler. Not as a king.
But as a something above the world, and the universe.
The throne room was silent.
And yet, a storm was brewing within every soul present.
The women—those of noble blood, warriors, and even the proud priestesses of the dragon tribes—felt their faces flush an uncontrollable shade of red. Their hearts pounded, caught in an inexplicable mix of awe, longing, and reverence.
Meanwhile, the men, mighty warriors who had once been dragons among men, now found their blood boiling, ignited as though Dai Long's very presence was fanning the flames of their draconic heritage.
Their breaths grew heavy, fists tightening at their sides, their instincts screaming at them to bow or fight.
And all of this—all of it—was caused by one man.
Dai Long inwardly smirked, pleased by the effect his mere presence commanded.
Then, his voice—deep, resonant, and absolute—cut through the tension like a divine decree.
"I want to start off by saying—those affected by my outburst, who lost a family member, will be compensated greatly.
"This is my way of showing consideration… and paying tribute to the precious lives you have suffered to lose."
His words rippled through the throne room.
Expressions shifted.
Some stared at him with disbelief. Others with relief.
For a being as powerful as Dai Long to acknowledge those deaths—let alone compensate them—was unheard of.
A few warriors and elders, their bodies still trembling from earlier, lowered their heads in silent gratitude.
Dai Long let the weight of his words settle, allowing them time to digest what had just been offered.
Then, his gaze darkened, and he spoke again.
"And now, for the true reason I came today."
A shift.
The very air seemed to change, crackling with something more profound.
A tension deeper than mere fear.
An anticipation.
"As you all know, some time ago, I had a wife…"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the hundreds of thousands gathered before him.
A deep, meaningful breath—then, he continued,"…You all would know her as the White Lotus Demon Sword."
Silence.
And then—The world exploded in shock.
Gasps.
Whispers were spreading like wildfire through the gathered masses.
Many people's eyes widened in horror and disbelief. Some even stumbled backward, barely managing to keep their footing.
The White Lotus Demon Sword was legendary.
A name that resonated through history, myth, and battlefield lore alike.
She was a woman who had left behind a legacy so immense, so unshakable, that her name was still whispered in the Three Great Chaos Worlds to this day.
An Immortal Sovereign.
An unrivaled sword cultivator who had no equal—until she had met him.
The Dragon of the Eclipse.
Dai Long.
She had fought him. Again. And again.
And every time, she lost.
What began as a battle had twisted into something else.
Something deeper. By a strange twist of fate, she and Dai Long had become Dao Companions.
A love story forged in war. A union of sword and dragon.
And then—she disappeared without a trace.
The day they announced their companionship, everything about her existence was erased.
No one knew what had become of her. No records. No rumors.
Nothing. At the same time, Dai Long changed.
The once proud, domineering warrior who had shaken the worlds with his presence vanished into solitude. He had become a shadow of his former self.
And soon—even he, too, was forgotten.
Until he returned.
As a Sage. It was a mystery as to how he became one. But no one questioned it, mainly because it was not worth offending a Sage. And because the Dragon realm had another Sage to defend them.
Now, standing before them once more, the air heavy with fate, Dai Long had spoken her name again—bringing a ghost back into the light.
Why? What was the connection?
The Seven Dragon Tribe Leaders exchanged subtle, knowing glances…they had certain guesses.
Even Cai Shen, the Dragon Emperor—his mind still reeling from Dai Long's previous show of dominance—felt his own thoughts spinning.
His gut instinct told him that this was tied to the change in Dai Long.
But how?
And then—Dai Long paused. His red eyes flickered for just a second.
A faint memory of the past filled his mind. A familiar beautiful face, eyes, and cherry lips appeared.
"Yu Bai."
Her smile. The way she called his name. His voice lightly softened.
And then—"I had thought I lost her forever."
A hush fell over the throne room.
The words lingered, heavy with meaning.
Dai Long took a breath.
Then, with all the weight of the heavens behind his words—"But I have found out that I have a piece of both her and me."
Another pause.
And he said, "I… am a father."