Chapter 375 — The Artless Smile
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
Lord Dragonkeeper's body was the flesh of a god; and, as if that were not enough, five flood dragons coiled about him, two of them transformed into his weapons, so that his strength doubled and doubled again. Though the Dragon Taming Sect had likewise been founded by Lord Dragonkeeper, that Sect did no more than command and drive dragon-snakes and other monstrous breeds; it had never gained the power to borrow a dragon's might.
Lord Dragonkeeper's Dragon Command Art, by contrast, could draw upon the strength of flood dragons to magnify his own. Nor was that all: the Dragon Rearing Scripture he had handed to Shen Mu did not encompass every art he practiced, for he had kept a trick in reserve.
The copy in Shen Mu's hands was indeed far more complete than the methods of the Dragon Taming Sect, yet Lord Dragonkeeper had recorded in it none of the vital combat techniques. He wielded the flood dragons as a pair of maces, and so fearsome was his strength that at a single blow the eardrums of Shen Mu and the others in the palace rang with a piercing hum; in an instant they were struck deaf and heard nothing at all. Nor was that all: the blow drained the air from all around in a single breath, as though a great chunk of space had been caved in, sucking every trace of air away.
This was unlike the clashes of other mighty ones. Shen Mu had seen many a powerful being trade blows; he had watched sect-master-level experts fight, and had even with his own eyes witnessed the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping's campaign to quell a rebellion.
The impact wrought by those experts' dao arts and divine powers did not collapse inward but blasted out in every direction, with terrible destructive force.
Lord Dragonkeeper's fleshly strength, however, was so immense that the shock it produced collapsed inward; no surplus force leaked away, and all destruction was concentrated to a point, so that his power burst forth with nothing held back.
Outward-blasting force, awesome and terrifying as it looked, was dispersed, and by the time a dao art or divine power struck an opponent, no small portion of it had already been spent. This meant that Lord Dragonkeeper's command of force had reached the utmost limit. This was the beauty of strength, a beauty only the very few who had studied strength to its extremes could appreciate.
In the palace, Shen Mu and the others had no time to appreciate it. The air within was sucked away in an instant, and Shen Mu, Wang Muran, Mu Qingdai and Long Yu at once felt an unspeakable oppression; even the air in their chests was drawn out.
A horrifying compressive force pressed in from every side, as though it meant to crush them to bursting, and at the same time the air being scoured away brought another sensation: their flesh swelling outward. Eyeballs, heart, lungs, bladder, all swelling outward, blood and urine all but flowing out beyond their control.
The hurricane surging outward from the hall lifted them up; they floated helplessly in midair, limbs flailing, hurtling toward the mace blow Lord Dragonkeeper had brought down, as if offering themselves up to die.
Had they been sucked in beneath Lord Dragonkeeper's dragon mace, they would surely have been crushed as easily as ants, with not a spark of life left.
Shen Mu made haste to reach out and seize the great deer's thick antlers; his other hand shot out and caught Mu Qingdai's palm. Mu Qingdai's sash streamed and flew, winding about Long Yu's legs, and Long Yu in turn caught both of Wang Muran's hands.
The tearing force stretched the four of them into a straight line. The great deer, too, was dragged until its four hooves could find no footing; it scrabbled and pawed, yet could not keep from drifting toward the outside of the hall. The great deer opened its mouth and clamped its teeth with a crack onto the dragon qilin's tail.