Chapter 102: The Gaze of the Flood Dragon

In this world, there was no such thing as snakes or pythons cultivating for countless years to become dragons. A snake was simply a snake; should it seek the path of cultivation, it might, like other beasts, take on human form or ascend to the heavens in broad daylight, but never could it transform into a dragon by first becoming a flood serpent. Yet the snake and python were directly connected to the flood serpent, for the latter was born from the union of dragon and serpent. Thus, without snakes or pythons, there would be no flood serpents or dragons.

Though snakes and pythons could not become dragons, flood serpents bore the blood of the dragon and thus could attain the form of a true dragon, earning them the epithet "flood dragons."

On the wooden pier at the lake’s edge, five men gripped their bamboo poles and wrestled with the flood dragon in the lake. After a few moments of stalemate, the five began to retreat toward the pier, suggesting the flood serpent was losing ground in this contest of strength.

Soon, as the five men dragged their quarry toward the shore, a scarlet shape emerged from the lake, motionless as if lifeless. Witnessing this, Zhou Qing understood why these men dared fish for a flood dragon here: their bait concealed some deeper stratagem.

Were it not so, the flood dragon—now being hauled inexorably toward the shore—would never be so subdued.

With their combined effort, the five soon brought the blood-red flood dragon into the shallows, where Zhou Qing could at last glimpse its features. Though distance obscured the finer details, he saw a creature, ten fathoms long, its body the hue of fresh blood and shaped much like a dragon, pulled from the depths.

As the serpent's body left the water, it began to stir feebly. The five fishers, undeterred, continued to drag it toward a formation they had prepared in advance. Two of the men quickly darted forward, drawing items from their pouches of holding, and began to circle the formation, placing small flags in the earth—clearly the flags were part of the array.

Once the flags were set, the two men stood on opposite sides of the flood dragon, moving their feet in an arcane pattern before pointing their joined hands at the creature within the array.

At their gesture, a pale yellow light flared from the formation, and the flood dragon—previously inert, as if near death—let out a low, rumbling cry.

In that cry, Zhou Qing heard nothing but rage. As the serpent howled, the other three men each drew magical implements from their own pouches and closed in.

The two who had laid the formation retreated as the others approached, who then set upon the dragon’s ten-fathom body with their tools.

Because of the distance, Zhou Qing could not discern what implements they wielded, but it seemed they were doing as they’d boasted at the teahouse, harvesting the serpent for its hide and claws.

The three wielded their tools again and again. The dragon, muddled by the tainted bait, began to rouse as pain wracked its body.

Its weak groans grew into thunderous bellows, each roar more furious than the last, until it seemed all heaven and earth would tremble. Suddenly, the sky, previously clear with the setting sun, gathered a mass of black clouds, plunging the world into gloom.

As the storm gathered, the dragon’s massive form surged, flinging the three who had been cutting at its hide aside. The array flashed that pale yellow light again, pressing down upon the dragon within.

Witnessing this, Zhou Qing realized just how formidable the flood dragon was: with but a single movement, it had hurled three men away. Had it not swallowed the treacherous bait and become ensnared in the formation, the five would likely have met their end at the shore of Ghost King Lake.

After the three were thrown aside, the two who had set the array rushed to help them up. Now, none dared approach closely; instead, each produced a different magical tool or talisman from their pouch and began casting spells at the imprisoned serpent from a distance.

While the five worked their magic, the storm clouds above continued to build. Thunder crashed, and then a sudden, torrential rain fell.

Great drops battered the earth, and a wild wind rose to lash the shore. Though Zhou Qing lay hidden in the underbrush, the gale flattened the grasses before him to the ground. Seeing this, he darted behind an ancient tree, concealing himself anew.

Yet when Zhou Qing looked again toward the shore, he saw that the flood dragon within the formation had fixed its gaze upon his hiding place.

"Has it noticed me?"

Somewhat doubtful, Zhou Qing wondered to himself. His movement behind the tree had been swift—he should not have been noticed so easily.

Even as he pondered, the five by the lake unleashed their spells. Ribbons of spiritual power struck the dragon, but each dissipated uselessly upon its blood-red scales.

These feeble spells could not harm the dragon trapped in the array. The serpent ignored their attacks, lifting its head toward the sky and unleashing another deafening roar.

This time, the sound eclipsed all before it, bursting forth and sweeping across the lake, echoing for miles.

…

"Father, I’m scared..."

Two miles away, in a small town, a little girl stood at her front door, clutching her father’s leg in terror as she stared out at the sudden downpour.

"Husband, could that roar mean the monster in Ghost King Lake is about to emerge?" asked a woman, her face pale as she clutched her husband’s arm.

"Who can say? Perhaps the monster really is coming out of the lake. But it might not head our way," the man replied, patting his wife’s back gently and stroking his daughter’s head, though his voice betrayed his uncertainty.