Chapter 158: Dragon Breath Pill (3)

“You are the embodiment of power! You’re the only one here who is! It’s not me that Kadis wants—it’s you!” Yang Hao bitterly regretted not realizing this sooner. “That damned dragon never looked at me—it was always watching you inside my belly!”

Hunyuanzi stayed silent, but his expression seemed to say, “Good disciple, you finally figured it out.”

Yang Hao had indeed figured it out, but he couldn’t begin to imagine the consequences, “What will happen after the Dragon Clan devours you? What then? What will become of you?”

“When I get inside its belly, I’ll do my best to refine a Dragon Breath Pill for you,” Hunyuanzi still thought of Yang Hao’s survival, “with your intelligence, if you can just communicate with the Dragon Clan, I’m sure you can trick it into helping you escape this cursed place. I believe in you. There’s probably nothing in this world that can truly stop you.”

“I’m asking what happens after you refine the Dragon Breath Pill!” Yang Hao shouted, nearly losing his voice, “Will you come back? Will you even survive?”

Hunyuanzi fell silent, offering no reply.

But what more needed to be said? At this moment, Yang Hao felt as though a category twelve hurricane had swept across the ocean inside him, churning his emotions into chaos. From the very beginning, Hunyuanzi had been prepared to sacrifice thousands of years of existence—just to obtain a Dragon Breath Pill to ensure Yang Hao’s survival.

“How could it come to this? Why would you do this?” Yang Hao stared in shock, whispering to himself. He couldn’t believe Hunyuanzi had made such a decision. If it weren’t absolutely necessary, Hunyuanzi would never willingly give up his life. After all, for thousands of years, his sole reason for enduring had been vengeance. Now, with his revenge unfinished, he was choosing to vanish.

In truth, this was no easy decision for Hunyuanzi either. Though Yang Hao often jokingly called him an ancient ghost, Hunyuanzi knew very well that his survival until today had been solely due to millennia of cultivation—an ordeal few could endure. A true cultivator must endure countless trials, experience life and death, bear unbearable hatred, and shoulder unimaginable loneliness, just to possess an immortal soul.

For thousands of years, Hunyuanzi had wandered the universe, gradually doubting whether his secluded cultivation and cowardly survival had been worth it. The boundless loneliness of the cosmos had nearly driven him mad.

It wasn’t until he met Yang Hao that Hunyuanzi finally realized his millennia of waiting had been for this very disciple. Yang Hao’s intelligence and talent surpassed even the greatest ancestors of the Dan and Spirit Dual Cultivation Sect. Within a short time, he had grasped the true essence of the sect’s cultivation and rapidly broke through the Harmony Realm.

Hunyuanzi knew clearly that, given a little more time, Yang Hao could become a grandmaster of the Dan Sect, reviving this long-forgotten cultivation school back into the universe.

But now, they faced an unprecedented crisis—time itself had vanished. It wasn’t just a matter of giving Yang Hao more time to cultivate; even ensuring his survival was now extremely difficult.

If they were among ordinary beings, no matter how great the hardship, Hunyuanzi wouldn’t have felt despair. He believed as long as his power remained, he could lead Yang Hao through any danger.

But this place was different—it was the Divine Realm, where every creature was a deity possessing astonishing power. Hunyuanzi had witnessed the might of the divine race. He deeply understood that no one could stand against true divine power. If they resisted—if they resisted the Dragon Clan—the only outcome would be death. A hopeless end, yet the only possible one.

Therefore, Hunyuanzi had no choice but to make this painful yet resolute decision. He even felt that all those years of clinging to life might have led to this one purpose—to leave behind Yang Hao as a spark, ensuring the flame of the Dan Sect would never be extinguished.

“It gave me fifteen minutes to say goodbye to you,” Hunyuanzi referred to the Kadis dragon. That dead dragon seemed to understand everything, its gaze calm and clear.

Yang Hao wept uncontrollably, unable to speak. Since meeting Hunyuanzi, he had never seen his master so determined. This must be what people called a final decision.

Memories Yang Hao thought were long buried began to resurface.

The first time they met was when Yang Hao fell into the bottomless pit. He had devoured massive pills and slaughtered grave robbers like a madman, unaware that from that moment on, their master-disciple bond had already been sealed.

How many times had Hunyuanzi seemed indifferent during life-threatening situations, only to later risk his very existence to save Yang Hao from certain death.

Yang Hao had never seen Hunyuanzi’s true appearance, yet they had long been inseparable, like two drops of water merging into one. He had always believed nothing in the world could tear them apart.

The darkness around him felt like endless, grasping tentacles, chilling him to the bone.

“No… there must be another way.”

Seeing his disciple unwilling to accept it, Hunyuanzi hardened his heart, “It’s true, Yang Hao. It’s time you grew up. From now on, you’ll have to fight on your own…”

The old man’s voice trembled slightly.

“Go to hell!” Yang Hao suddenly roared in anger, “Go to hell! I don’t want to fight alone! I want you with me! I want you inside my belly! I love it when you spy on me! I love it when you roast my intestines! I love it when you count sheep for me at night when I can’t sleep!”

Hunyuanzi remained silent.

But Yang Hao heard a lazy, terrifying voice, like a great beast slowly unfurling its wings in the night. The Kadis dragon, which had been sitting still, finally changed its posture.

It merely stood up slightly, not fully spreading its wings, yet its immense size already filled half the cavern.

Yang Hao felt as though he were witnessing a great catastrophe, something beyond words. The Kadis dragon hadn’t bared its fangs or claws, nor did it need to intimidate with appearance. Its slow, measured, and restrained movements alone declared its royal dignity.

Its dragon gaze pierced straight into Yang Hao, its calm eyes as if able to see through his soul, rendering his body transparent.

Yang Hao knew the moment had come. The time the dragon had granted Hunyuanzi had ended. Now it had come to claim its due.

“No!” Yang Hao roared. He didn’t know where the courage came from, but three flying swords instantly shot out from his body, bursting with brilliant light. Screaming wildly, he charged forward, ready to fight the dragon to the death.

“It’s useless,” Hunyuanzi said calmly, as if he were simply stepping out for a walk, not about to give his life.

Immediately, Yang Hao felt his limbs paralyzed, as if some force within his spirit had suppressed all movement, rendering him completely helpless.

It was Hunyuanzi’s soul—completely controlling Yang Hao’s body.

Only now did Yang Hao realize that Hunyuanzi had always had the ability to control him, even to replace his soul and revive within Yang Hao’s body.

Yet Hunyuanzi had never done so—not even once.

Until now.

“You can use my body to take revenge,” Yang Hao’s eyes overflowed with tears.

Hunyuanzi did not do that, nor did he speak.

It was a kind of love.

Then, the road ahead would now be walked alone.

Hunyuanzi silently controlled Yang Hao’s body, making him stand like a statue, forced to watch helplessly as the dragon fully stretched its form, like a god descending into the mortal world, radiating an overwhelming, divine majesty.

“It’s not possible,” Yang Hao still clung to a final thread of hope, “we’re one. You’re inside my life. Nothing can separate us—not even you yourself. You said it yourself.”

Hunyuanzi remained silent.

At that moment, the dragon’s eyes suddenly blazed with a piercing green light that cut through the night and pierced the heart. When this light struck Yang Hao’s body, it sent an eerie sensation through him.

It felt like being touched by an unknown hand in the coldest graveyard night.

Suddenly, the dragon opened its mouth. Though Yang Hao heard no sound, he somehow sensed what was coming. His entire body shuddered. A sharp, unbearable pain erupted from his lower abdomen.

This pain was indescribable, unlike any physical wound. It was the pain of a soul being torn apart—not sharp like severed flesh, but deeper, more agonizing, like being separated from one’s own flesh and blood, from a loved one—like having part of one’s very life stolen away.

Yang Hao’s last hope shattered completely. He had gravely underestimated the Dragon Clan’s power. To them, nothing was beyond taking. Not even two fused souls—let alone half of a single soul—could escape their grasp.

Yang Hao watched helplessly as a sudden golden light erupted from his lower abdomen. A pure, holy radiance burst from his skin, illuminating the entire dragon’s lair.

After this great tearing apart, Yang Hao found the restraints on his limbs gone. His body was once again his own to control. But this regained freedom brought him no joy whatsoever.