Ahead of them, a colossal dragon skeleton wound itself around the towering palace, coiling again and again, its massive skull raised high above the main hall, gazing straight at them!
It was a dragon skeleton—just bone, without flesh—a gigantic frame whose teeth alone stood taller than Quinn Shepherd himself!
Though the dragon had been dead for who knows how long, its awe-inspiring might was still plain to see. In life, it must have been unimaginably powerful.
Quinn activated the Divine Firmament Heaven Eye, and instantly, the dragon bones seemed to come alive before his eyes—divine light soared skyward, and the dragon appeared to slither and writhe in his vision. Though the dragon was long dead, its posture and presence made it feel as if it still lived!
"Yong River Dragon King—a true dragon..."
Quinn gazed at the colossal dragon, a thought stirring in his heart. He recalled Grandpa Mark’s fist technique—the Nine-Dragon Thunder Rush from the Thunder Chant Eight-Form. The Nine-Dragon Thunder Rush divided his yuanqi into nine layers of force: the first was the Furious Dragon Charge, the second was Twin Dragons Twisting, and each layer added another surge of dragon power!
Since childhood, Quinn had trained this move countless times under Grandpa Mark’s guidance. Only recently, after a leap in cultivation, had his Nine-Dragon Thunder Rush grown much stronger. But when he clashed with Brother Brightheart, he still suffered losses.
This was partly because he hadn’t learned the Grand Buddha Mahayana Scripture from Great Thunderclap Temple, but mostly because his Nine-Dragon fist technique only looked like a dragon.
It looked like a dragon but wasn’t one—just a hollow imitation, lacking the essence. Naturally, it collapsed at the first touch.
If his fist technique were truly that of a real dragon, then even without the Grand Buddha Mahayana Scripture, his Nine-Dragon Thunder Rush would be the genuine article!
After all, the principle behind Nine-Dragon Thunder Rush was to mimic the true dragon’s mastery of wind and thunder—its overwhelming momentum, its thunderous force, the way a divine dragon strikes from the heart of the storm. If he could truly achieve that, learning the Grand Buddha Mahayana Scripture wouldn’t matter!
"Nine-Dragon Thunder Rush... Nine-Dragon Thunder Rush..."
Quinn studied the dragon skeleton bit by bit, unconsciously pacing as he observed. In his eyes, only the true dragon’s bones remained—he examined the dragon’s form, bone structure, momentum, charm, qi, and spirit, trying to grasp every nuance.
He grew increasingly absorbed, walking and watching, all while making strange movements—his arms and body unconsciously imitating the dragon’s every gesture.
His yuanqi, too, began to flow inside him like a true dragon, over and over, adding more and more detail each time.
Inside his Spirit Embryo Treasury, his Spirit Embryo also moved in sync, breathing and channeling yuanqi, gradually undergoing a mysterious transformation. The yuanqi he exhaled didn’t return to Quinn’s body, but instead wound around him, forming a tiny dragon. As more and more yuanqi was breathed out, the little dragon grew, eventually reaching man-height and coiling around the Spirit Embryo.
Lina the Spirit Fox had been terrified at first, but as time passed, her fear slowly faded. Quinn was so absorbed in studying the dragon bones that he forgot about her entirely.
After a long while, Lina’s stomach began to rumble. Carefully, she climbed off Quinn’s back and tiptoed out of the underwater Dragon Palace. She wasn’t worried about disturbing Quinn, but was instinctively terrified of the dragon, afraid that any loud noise might ‘wake’ the skeleton.
Half an hour later, the little white fox returned, carrying a bag full of strange creatures that looked like dandelions.
Forcing herself to overcome her fear of the dragon bones, Lina entered the mist again, returned to Quinn’s side, climbed onto his shoulders, and stuffed one of those creatures into his mouth.
Quinn seemed oblivious—when food came, he simply opened his mouth and ate.
Lina fed him more than twenty of those strange creatures before finally munching on a few herself.
Quinn showed no sign of waking, still pacing endlessly, his eyes locked on the dragon bones. Sometimes, he even climbed onto the skeleton, wandering across its massive bones.
On his Spirit Embryo, the Azure Dragon coiled, crackling with flashes of lightning—but Quinn, utterly absorbed in the dragon bones, didn’t notice at all.
Two days passed without him realizing. Quinn ate, drank, relieved himself, and slept right there—he reeked, but still showed no sign of waking.
Lina was patient, tending to his meals for several days. When Quinn was thirsty, she’d fetch water with leaves; when he was hungry, she’d catch strange creatures from the tunnels. She had to cross a pool along the way, where monstrous fish lurked—one careless step and she’d be eaten. Thankfully, she was clever and managed just fine.
Of course, whenever Quinn needed to relieve himself, she’d discreetly step aside.
On the third day, just as Lina was about to fetch more water, Quinn’s voice suddenly rang out in surprise: “Why am I so filthy?”
Lina was both startled and delighted. She chirped, “You’ve been standing here for three days—of course you’re dirty!”
"Three days?"
Quinn was startled and blurted, "Crap! I’ve been gone for three days—the folks in Oldridge must be worried sick! Come on, let’s hurry back!"
Suddenly, he stopped. "If I go back now, I’ll definitely get scolded—or worse, they might not let me out again. Since we’re here, we might as well explore the Dragon Palace. Who knows, maybe we’ll find some treasure."
Excited, he strode deeper into the underwater Dragon Palace. Lina the Spirit Fox mustered her courage and followed him into the towering palace, but she was so timid she only dared to cling to his leg, never straying far.
This great hall was shrouded in mist—much denser than before, gray and endless, impossible to see far ahead.
"Strange... what’s causing all this fog?"
Quinn was puzzled—the mist wasn’t just water vapor, and even the Divine Firmament Heaven Eye couldn’t see far. The deeper he went, the heavier the fog became, and the less he could see. Lina grew more and more terrified, biting Quinn’s pant leg as he led her forward.
Then he heard a strange sound—gentle, lingering, yet suffused with sorrow. It sounded like someone singing a mournful song in the mist, but he couldn’t understand the words.
It was an ancient language—mysterious and obscure, as old as the tongues of gods and demons.
Listening, Quinn absentmindedly wiped his cheek—only then did he realize tears were streaming down his face.
The song made him feel as if a drifting woman was wandering through the mist, singing out her heartbreak.
Suddenly, the golden rings on Quinn’s Thunderclap Monk’s Staff began clanging noisily in his hand.
“Grandpa Mark said the golden rings on the Thunderclap Monk’s Staff ward off stray thoughts and evil intent. If your heart stirs with a wicked thought, a ring will sound. But now they’re rattling like a tin full of copper beans—nonstop! Do I really have that many bad thoughts?”
Quinn glanced down and couldn’t help but laugh—Lina was trembling like a leaf, clinging desperately to his leg, her tail draped over the Thunderclap Monk’s Staff. Quinn’s heart was calm, but the little fox’s was a mess.
"Lina, move your tail a bit," Quinn said.
Lina shifted her tail aside but kept shivering.
Quinn frowned. Even after Lina moved her tail, the golden rings on the Thunderclap Monk’s Staff kept jangling away.
"Could there be a third person here besides me and Lina? Someone with a heart full of malice? Is it the woman singing?"
The rings rattled faster and faster—there was definitely a third person here, overflowing with wicked intent. The Thunderclap Monk’s Staff sensed it, which was why the rings wouldn’t stop!
Above, the mournful song drifted through the air, growing even sadder.
Quinn glanced down and suddenly shivered. In the mist, a gnarled, skeletal hand was reaching for the Thunderclap Monk’s Staff. Before it could touch the staff, it trembled violently as if struck by lightning, then silently withdrew.
Quinn leaned on his Thunderclap Monk’s Staff, glancing around. His eye twitched—skeletal hands kept reaching for him from all sides, but whenever they neared the staff, they recoiled.
Meanwhile, the gentle song in the mist grew clearer, as if someone were singing right in his ear.
"What on earth is hiding in this mist?"
His scalp tingled. Lina had already climbed up his pant leg, onto his back, and then burrowed into his clothes, hiding with just her furry little head poking out, trembling as she peeked at their surroundings.
The scene was terrifying—even Quinn’s heart began to race. But the staff’s golden rings vibrated, soothing his mind and quickly restoring his calm.
He steadied himself. With so many hands, it was clear this wasn’t just one person.
"Whatever you are—begone!"
Quinn’s yuanqi surged down his arm and into the Thunderclap Monk’s Staff. He raised the staff and slammed it down—there was a thunderous clang, and radiant beams shot out in all directions. At the same time, a Buddha’s shadow appeared behind him, seated in midair as Sanskrit chants echoed.
"Thus have I heard!"
The Buddha’s shadow intoned, its voice resonating: "All sentient beings, since time without beginning, have been trapped in the cycle of life and death, all because they do not know their true mind, the pure and luminous nature, but instead chase after delusions. These delusions are false, and so the cycle turns—turns—turns—turns—"