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 desires, it’s you!” Yang Hao bitterly regretted not realizing this sooner. “That damned dragon has never been watching me—it’s been watching you inside me all along!”

Hunyuanzi said nothing, but his expression seemed to say, “Good disciple, you finally figured it out.”

Yang Hao had figured it out, indeed, but he couldn’t begin to imagine the consequences: “The Dragon Clan… what will happen after they devour you? What will happen?”

“When I get inside its belly, I’ll try my best to refine a Dragon Breath Pill for you,” Hunyuanzi still had Yang Hao’s interests at heart. “With your intelligence, as long as you can communicate with the dragons, you’ll surely find a way to 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 will happen after you refine the Dragon Breath Pill!” Yang Hao shouted, almost hysterically. “Will you come back? Will you still be alive?”

Hunyuanzi fell silent, giving no answer.

Did any explanation even matter anymore? Yang Hao’s heart was like a twelve-level hurricane raging across the ocean, tossing waves of emotion that left him in turmoil. From the very beginning, Hunyuanzi had been prepared to sacrifice thousands of years of his life, just to obtain a Dragon Breath Pill so Yang Hao could survive.

“How could it come to this? Why must it be this way?” Yang Hao stared in shock, whispering to himself. He couldn’t believe Hunyuanzi had made such a decision. If it hadn’t been absolutely necessary, Hunyuanzi would never have willingly given up his life. After all, for thousands of years, the only thing that had kept him going was his hatred. Now, with that hatred still unresolved, he was about to vanish.

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

For thousands of years, Hunyuanzi had drifted through the cosmos, gradually questioning whether his secluded cultivation and selfish preservation had truly been worth it. The boundless solitude of the universe had nearly driven him mad.

It wasn’t until he met Yang Hao that Hunyuanzi finally realized that all those millennia had been spent waiting for a disciple like him. Yang Hao’s intelligence and talent surpassed even the greatest ancestors of the Dan-Ding Dual Cultivation Sect. In a short time, he had grasped the essence of Dan cultivation and quickly broke through the Harmony Stage.

Hunyuanzi knew well that, given a little more time, Yang Hao could become a grandmaster of the Dan sect, reviving this long-lost school of cultivation across the universe.

But now, they faced an unprecedented crisis—time itself had become irrelevant. It was no longer a matter of giving Yang Hao more time to cultivate; even keeping him alive was already extremely difficult.

If they had been among ordinary beings, no matter how dire the situation, Hunyuanzi would never have lost hope. He believed that as long as his power remained, he could lead Yang Hao out of any danger.

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

Therefore, Hunyuanzi had no choice but to make this decision, painful though it was. Still, he firmly believed it was the right one. He even felt that all those years of clinging to survival might have had only one purpose—to leave behind a spark like Yang Hao, to keep the flame of the Dan sect from being extinguished.

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

Tears streamed down Yang Hao’s face. He couldn’t speak. Since meeting Hunyuanzi, he had never seen his master so resolute. This must be what people called a final decision.

Memories that could never be erased began to rise in Yang Hao’s mind.

You are the Power Entity! You’re the only Power Entity here! It’s not me, it’s you that Cadiz is after!” Yang Hao hated himself for not realizing it sooner. “That damned dragon wasn’t watching me—it was watching you inside me!”

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

Yang Hao had indeed figured it out, but he couldn’t fathom the consequences: “The dragon… what will happen after the dragon devours you? What will happen?”

“Once I enter its belly, I’ll find a way to refine a Dragon Breath Pill for you,” Hunyuanzi was still thinking of Yang Hao. “With your intelligence, as long as you can communicate with the dragon, you’ll surely find a way to trick it into helping you escape this cursed place. I have faith in you. There’s probably nothing in this world that can stop you.”

“I mean—what will happen to you after refining the Dragon Breath Pill!” Yang Hao nearly screamed himself hoarse. “Will you come back? Will you still be alive?”

Hunyuanzi fell silent, offering no answer.

But what answer was needed? Yang Hao’s emotions were like a Category 12 hurricane raging over the ocean, churning waves of indescribable turmoil. From the very beginning, Hunyuanzi had been prepared to sacrifice his millennia-long existence—all for the sake of refining a single Dragon Breath Pill to ensure Yang Hao’s survival.

“How could this be? Why would you do this?” Yang Hao muttered in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief. He could hardly believe that Hunyuanzi had made such a decision. Unless it was absolutely necessary, Hunyuanzi would never willingly give up his life. After all, his sole purpose for living these past millennia had been vengeance. Yet now, with his vengeance unfulfilled, he was about to vanish.

For Hunyuanzi, this was no simple decision. Yang Hao often jokingly called him the “Millennium Ghost,” but Hunyuanzi knew better. His survival until now had relied entirely on his millennia of cultivation—a path fraught with hardships few could endure. A true cultivator must endure countless trials, face life-and-death separations, bear the weight of hatred, and shoulder unimaginable loneliness to attain an immortal soul.

For thousands of years, Hunyuanzi had drifted through the cosmos, gradually questioning whether his relentless cultivation and desperate clinging to life had truly been worth it. The boundless solitude of the universe had nearly driven him mad.

It wasn’t until he met Yang Hao that Hunyuanzi finally realized his millennia of waiting had been for a successor like him. Yang Hao’s brilliance and talent surpassed not only Hunyuanzi but all the predecessors of the Alchemy Cauldron Sect. In just a short time, he had grasped the essence of the sect’s teachings and swiftly advanced to the Harmony Realm.

Hunyuanzi knew that with just a little more time, Yang Hao could become a grandmaster of the Alchemy Cauldron Sect, reviving this long-lost lineage in the universe.

But now, they faced an unprecedented crisis. Time had run out. There was no chance for Yang Hao to continue cultivating—even his survival was in jeopardy.

Among ordinary people, no matter how dire the situation, Hunyuanzi would never despair. He believed that as long as his power existed, he could lead Yang Hao out of any predicament.

But this place was different. This was the Divine Realm, where every creature was a god with terrifying power. Hunyuanzi had witnessed the might of the gods and knew deep down that no one could oppose a true divine force. Resistance—especially against the Dragon Clan—would only lead to death. It was a hopeless outcome, the only possible ending.

Thus, Hunyuanzi had no choice but to make this painful yet resolute decision. He even felt that his millennia of clinging to life might find its best purpose in leaving behind a spark like Yang Hao—ensuring the Alchemy Cauldron’s flame would never be extinguished.

“It gave me fifteen minutes to bid you farewell,” Hunyuanzi said, referring to the Cadiz Dragon. The damned dragon seemed to understand everything, its gaze eerily serene.

Tears streamed down Yang Hao’s face. He was speechless. Since meeting Hunyuanzi, he had never seen his master so resolute—this was what people called a final decision.

Memories that could never be erased surged through Yang Hao’s mind.

Their first meeting had been in a bottomless pit. Yang Hao had swallowed a massive pill in desperation, then slaughtered tomb raiders in a frenzy. Little did he know that from that moment, their master-disciple bond had been sealed.

Countless times in peril, Hunyuanzi had seemed indifferent, yet he had risked his very existence to save Yang Hao from certain doom.

Yang Hao had never seen Hunyuanzi’s true form, yet they had long become one—like inseparable parts of life, like water blending with water. Yang Hao had believed nothing in the world could ever tear them apart.

The darkness inside the cave was suffocating, its tendrils wrapping around Yang Hao’s body. A bone-chilling cold seeped into him, leaving him numb with despair.

“No… this can’t be happening.”

Seeing his disciple’s refusal to accept the truth, Hunyuanzi hardened his heart: “It’s true, Yang Hao. It’s time for you to grow up. From now on, you must fight alone…”

The old man’s voice trembled slightly.

“Shut up!” Yang Hao suddenly roared. “Just shut up! I don’t want to fight alone! I want you with me—inside me! I like it when you spy on me, when you roast my guts, when you count sheep for me when I can’t sleep!”

Hunyuanzi remained silent.

Then, Yang Hao heard a lazy yet terrifying sound, like a monstrous beast unfurling its wings in the night. The Cadiz Dragon, which had been sitting motionless, finally shifted its posture.

It merely rose slightly, its wings not fully spread, yet its sheer size already occupied half the cavern.

Yang Hao felt as if he were witnessing a catastrophe beyond words. The dragon didn’t bare its fangs or claws—it didn’t even bother with intimidation. Yet its slow, deliberate movements exuded the dignity of royalty.

The dragon’s gaze fixed on Yang Hao, its eyes like water—piercing, as if seeing through his very soul, rendering his body transparent.

Yang Hao knew the moment had come. The dragon’s allotted time was up. Now, it had come to claim its due.

“No!” Yang Hao howled. Summoning courage from nowhere, three flying swords shot from his body, blazing with radiant light. He lunged forward, ready to fight the dragon to the death.

“Useless,” Hunyuanzi said calmly, as if he were merely stepping out for a routine errand rather than facing his demise.

Yang Hao suddenly found his limbs paralyzed, as if some force in his mind had seized control, rendering him immobile.

It was Hunyuanzi’s soul, now fully dominating Yang Hao’s body.

Only then did Yang Hao realize that Hunyuanzi had always been capable of taking over his body—even replacing his soul to resurrect within him.

Yet Hunyuanzi had never done so. He had never once exerted control—until now.

“You could use my body to take revenge,” Yang Hao whispered, tears streaming down his face.

Hunyuanzi did neither. He didn’t speak.

That was love.

And so, the path ahead would have to be walked alone.

Silently, Hunyuanzi kept Yang Hao’s body frozen like a statue, forcing him to watch as the dragon fully unfurled itself, its majesty descending like a deity, leaving no room for resistance.

“No…” Yang Hao clung to one last shred of hope. “We’re one. You’re part of my life. Nothing can separate us—not even you. You said so yourself.”

Still, Hunyuanzi said nothing.

Then, the dragon’s eyes suddenly blazed with an eerie green light, piercing the darkness and stinging Yang Hao’s heart. The glow enveloped him, filling him with an uncanny sensation—like being touched by an unseen hand in the coldest graveyard.

The dragon’s jaws parted. Though Yang Hao heard no sound, he shuddered as if anticipating something. A searing pain erupted in his dantian.

This pain was unlike any other—it wasn’t the sharp agony of a severed limb, but something deeper, more soul-rending. It was the pain of life itself being torn apart, of flesh separating from bone, of loved ones being ripped away. It was his very essence being stolen.

Yang Hao’s last hope shattered. He had vastly underestimated the dragon’s power. To the Dragon Clan, nothing was beyond their grasp—not even two intertwined souls. Even a single soul could be effortlessly halved and devoured.

Helpless, Yang Hao watched as a golden light erupted from his dantian, pure and holy, illuminating the entire cavern with blinding radiance.

After the great rending, Yang Hao realized the paralysis had lifted. His body was his own again. But this regained freedom brought him no joy—only emptiness.

How many times had Hunyuanzi seemed indifferent during crises, only to later risk his very existence to save Yang Hao from certain death?

Yang Hao had never seen Hunyuanzi’s true form, yet they had long since become one, like two drops of water merging. Yang Hao had always believed that nothing in the world could ever separate them.

Darkness surrounded him like grasping tentacles, and he felt a bone-deep chill, a coldness so profound it left him wanting to cry, but with no tears left.

“No… there must be another way.”

Seeing his disciple unwilling to accept the truth, Hunyuanzi hardened his heart: “It’s real, Yang Hao. It’s time for you to grow up. From now on, you’ll have to fight on your own…”

The old man’s voice trembled slightly.

“Shut up!” 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 me! 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 sound, like a great beast slowly spreading its wings in the dark. The Kadis dragon, which had been sitting still, finally shifted its posture.

It merely stood up slightly, not fully unfurling its wings, yet it already occupied half the cavern.

Yang Hao felt as though he were witnessing a great catastrophe, something beyond words. The Kadis dragon had not shown its fangs or claws, nor did it bother to intimidate with its appearance. Yet its slow, measured movements exuded the dignity of a royal lineage.

Its dragon gaze pierced straight into Yang Hao, its eyes like water, capable of seeing through his soul, rendering his body transparent.

Yang Hao knew—the time had come. The dragon had given Hunyuanzi fifteen minutes, and now that time was up. It had come to claim its due.

“No!” Yang Hao roared. He didn’t know where the courage came from, but three flying swords shot from his body, bursting with blinding light. Screaming, he lunged forward, ready to fight the dragon with everything he had.

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

Immediately, Yang Hao felt his limbs freeze, unable to move at all, as if some force within his spirit had suppressed him completely, rendering him motionless.

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

Only now did Yang Hao realize that all along, Hunyuanzi had been able to control him, even capable of replacing his soul and reviving himself within Yang Hao’s body.

But Hunyuanzi had never done so—not even once.

Until this moment.

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

Hunyuanzi did not do that, nor did he speak.

It was love.

And with that, the road ahead would have to 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 world, exuding an overwhelming majesty that crushed all resistance.

“It’s not possible,” Yang Hao still clung to a final sliver of hope in his heart. “We are one. You are within my life. Nothing can separate us—not even you yourself. You said so yourself.”

Hunyuanzi remained silent.

At that moment, the dragon’s eyes suddenly blazed with a piercing green light, cutting through the darkness and piercing Yang Hao’s heart. When the light struck his body, a strange sensation coursed through him.

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

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

It was a pain few could understand—a pain of life being torn apart. Not like the sharp pain of severed organs, but something deeper, more agonizing. Like flesh being ripped from bone, like losing a loved one—like a part of his very life being stolen away.

Yang Hao’s last hope was shattered. He had underestimated the dragon’s power. To the Dragon Clan, nothing was beyond their reach. Not even two souls fused together—let alone halves of the same soul—could escape their grasp.

Yang Hao watched helplessly as a brilliant golden light suddenly erupted from his lower abdomen. A sacred, pure glow radiated 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 under his own control. But this regained freedom brought him no joy—none at all.