Chapter 1747: Raiding the True Dragon’s Nest

The underground cavern was merely a cover, concealing an ancient network of tunnels as dense as a spider’s web.

When they took the right path and followed a passage to its end, they were met with a sight of chaos—a miniature world!

Moreover, this place had once been sealed, but now it had cracked open, revealing gaps that allowed entry and exit.

Qingfeng was exhilarated, his excitement almost childlike, as if he had returned to his youth, running through the mountains with Shi Hao and Da Zhuang, raiding the nests of fierce birds and digging into beast dens.

But now, they were about to raid a true dragon’s nest!

Over the past decade as the Stone Emperor, he had been forced to act with solemnity, suppressing his youthful impulses. But now, walking alongside Shi Hao, he felt like a mischievous child up to no good.

“There really is a dragon’s nest!” Even the Golden Lion was stunned, his mind reeling.

Earlier, it hadn’t paid much attention to the little dragon, merely thinking its blood was pure enough to be edible. But now, it was clear—something was deeply unusual here.

Through the rift in the chaos, Shi Hao glimpsed the interior—mist swirling, thick with primordial energy. The first thing he saw was a cliff, atop which rested a nest.

“Not a divine palace, nor a dragon’s lair… just a nest?” Shi Hao’s expression was one of astonishment.

Activating his Heavenly Eye, he saw it clearly—a nest, no larger than a bird’s, woven from divine wood.

Then, his pupils contracted sharply. He spotted three eggs, each over half a meter in diameter, their shells densely inscribed with intricate dragon patterns.

Faintly, the roar of dragons echoed, soaring into the heavens.

“By the heavens! True dragon eggs—several of them at once! This really is a nest!” The Golden Lion yelped, even it overcome with excitement.

This was the desolate lower realm, the so-called Eight Domains Prison—yet here lay a nest of true dragon eggs!

Even Shi Hao was shaken. He had expected one egg, not an entire clutch.

The three eggs bore intertwined patterns, their dragon-shaped imprints unmistakable, and most strikingly, they were enveloped in an impenetrable aura of dragon energy.

One of the eggs was glowing faintly. Shi Hao sensed a familiar presence—the soul of the Red Dragon, Ge Gu, was inside.

“Something’s off,” Shi Hao murmured.

Hadn’t it already hatched? Why was it back inside an egg?

“Should we go in now?” Qingfeng rubbed his hands eagerly, looking nothing like an emperor.

“Not yet. Haven’t you heard of the dangers of a dragon’s den? This place must be perilous. One misstep, and the consequences could be dire.” Shi Hao suspected it wouldn’t be easily conquered.

He had sensed it from the start—this place was extraordinary, fraught with danger. Otherwise, how could it protect multiple dragon eggs?

Both Qingfeng and the Golden Lion were restless, itching to enter.

“Let’s return for now. We’ll come back tomorrow. Breaking in will require serious effort.”

Back in Stone Village, the elders and children were still waiting, celebrating their reunion. Lingering here for days would only worry them.

Retracing their steps, Shi Hao set up a formation to seal the cavern’s entrance.

Mounted on the Golden Lion, they raced back at lightning speed, covering thousands of miles in moments.

Upon returning to the Stone Kingdom’s palace, Qingfeng gave brief orders before hurrying back to Stone Village with Shi Hao.

“Ah! Uncle Qingfeng and Little Stone Uncle are back!” The children cheered.

It was a sleepless night in Stone Village, filled with laughter, feasts of rare delicacies, and the fragrant opening of monkey wine.

Shi Hao distributed treasures from the Upper Realm—weapons, bone scriptures, and more.

“Little Stone Uncle, you’re only giving us one sunflower seed each?” The children were baffled.

He had handed out piles of weapons and scriptures, but when it came to “snacks,” he was oddly cautious. The divine beast meat was understandable—they couldn’t digest high-tier creatures.

But sunflower seeds? Even the little ones pouted at his stinginess.

“You don’t understand. These are seeds of divine power. One is enough to keep you running wild all night,” an elder chuckled.

Shi Hao had brought these back once before.

“These are seeds from the Demon Sunflower Garden. The weakest mother plant is many times stronger than you,” Shi Hao explained.

Then, reconsidering, he added, “No, these must be roasted first. If they fall into the grass, they might sprout demon sunflowers!”

He feared some seeds might revive, birthing new demonic plants.

Crackling sounds filled the air as he personally roasted them before redistributing.

Some skeptical children ate them raw—and soon ran wildly through the village, glowing with energy, unable to sleep all night.

The adults roared with laughter.

Qingfeng, meanwhile, was awestruck by the divine herbs and the Celestial God Tree, wondering if he was dreaming.

That night, Stone Village reveled in celebration, many drinking themselves into a stupor.

The next morning, Shi Hao set out with Qingfeng and the Golden Lion, ready to raid the dragon’s nest.

Returning to the site, Shi Hao led the way, wielding the Great Luo Sword and shielding himself with the cracked black-gold cauldron.

As they crossed the chaotic rift, they entered the miniature world.

Whoosh!

A sharp sword-light descended from above, striking the cauldron with a deafening clang, sending it flying.

Above them hung a broken horn, dripping blood, dull and lifeless.

“A true dragon’s horn!” The Golden Lion gasped.

The horn was bleeding, but the droplets evaporated midair, their essence long gone. Had it been fresh, a single drop could have shattered stars.

This place was far more dangerous than Shi Hao had anticipated.

“Qingfeng, wait outside the rift!” Shi Hao ordered. The risks were too great.

Qingfeng hesitated but quickly retreated, knowing he’d only be a burden.

The dragon horn projected scenes of battle—the First of the Ten Ferocious Beasts clashing with Kings of Immortality, tearing through the cosmos.

“It’s them!” Shi Hao’s eyes sharpened as he spotted An Lan, Yu Tuo’s weapon, and Chi Wang’s furnace.

The First of the Ten Ferocious was besieged!

A single drop of dragon blood could annihilate a sea of stars—the devastation was unimaginable.

“Elder, I come not to harm your descendants, but to aid them,” Shi Hao murmured sincerely.

The cracked horn trembled, emitting a faint light that drifted toward Shi Hao.

A phantom of the Blood-Stained Battle Banner emerged—a remnant of the Immortal King’s burial shroud.

Seeing this, the horn relented, allowing him passage.

The Golden Lion shuddered. Had Shi Hao not been aligned with the Nine Heavens, disaster might have struck.

A fractured stone slab materialized in the chaos, inscribed with ancient script.

After reading it, Shi Hao sighed, mourning the tragic fate of the dragon lineage.

Their descendants had been sabotaged. The eggs remained, but they might never hatch, doomed to be stillborn.

Rage burned in Shi Hao’s heart. The foreign realm’s cruelty knew no bounds—this was no isolated incident, but a widespread atrocity.

Like the Heavenly Horned Ants, many immortal descendants had been hunted down, forced into stasis, sealed in chaos to preserve their fading vitality.

Only a handful, like the Heavenly Horned Ant’s father, had the power to save their kin.

“Sealing them in chaos for millennia was a last resort,” Shi Hao murmured.

Would these dragon eggs hatch? Would their power be diminished?

“The First of the Ten Ferocious was peerless. Surely, it ensured at least one heir would survive,” the Golden Lion said.

Nodding, Shi Hao ascended the cliff, stepping before the nest.

Boom!

A vision erupted—a dragon’s tail splitting the cosmos, sundering an ancient world.

“A treasure technique?”

“Echoes of battle?”

The nest bore imprints of the dragon’s final struggle, its clashes with multiple Kings of Immortality. Blood stained the stars, its might unrivaled.

An Lan’s arm shattered under its tail. Yu Tuo’s weapon was torn apart by its claws.

Stars exploded in dazzling fury.

Dragon blood fell like rain, each drop capable of reversing time itself, summoning divine armaments from the river of eternity.

Its power was beyond comprehension.