Chapter 17: Dragon’s Gaze
Chapter 17: Dragon’s Gaze
The grand hall fell into a suffocating silence. The air itself grew thick, every breath like inhaling mist-shrouded stone. Elder Xiao Feng’s voice reverberated through the chamber like the roar of a slumbering beast—deep, calm, yet terrifyingly heavy.
He didn’t shout.
He didn’t scold.
And yet, the weight of his cultivation, leaking from his voice alone, slammed into the room like a tidal wave crashing against fragile wood.
For the gathered geniuses, it was like standing face-to-face with a ferocious tiger. One growl… and their hearts froze.
Elder Xiao Feng's aura—belonging to a peak-stage Martial Grandmaster—had slipped free, an unconscious release of spiritual pressure that battered the senses.
Xiao Boyan staggered back, his face draining of color. His knees buckled slightly, legs trembling as sweat soaked through his inner robes. The pride he held from his cultivation crumbled beneath that invisible pressure. His gaze was filled with pure, unfiltered fear.
And he wasn’t the only one.
Several others faltered, their knees giving out as they gasped for breath under the crushing aura.
Yet, amid the sea of panic, a few remained standing — tense, but defiant. Xiao Han, Xiao Rongyu, and the Twin Prodigies clenched their fists, their jaws tightening. Veins bulged on their necks as they resisted the pressure, refusing to bend the knee even if their bodies screamed otherwise. Their eyes burned with unwillingness — not from fear but from sheer pride.
Even so, the difference between them was clear. Though all were in the early Martial Soul Realm, the depth of their foundations and experiences separated them like clouds from stone.
Among them, Xiao Rongyu stood out.
Had this been a real battle, she could have crushed three of those now paralyzed with fear—and that was while holding back. Her breathing was slightly ragged, but her stance never faltered.
She was the future hope of the Xiao Clan.
And yet… even she felt it.
The mountain-like pressure that made her heart race and blood churn.
But in one quiet corner of the hall—alone, like a shadow untouched by sunlight—Xiao Chen sat silently.
His eyes were closed. His aura was non-existent.
It was almost as if he hadn’t even noticed the pressure in the room.
And then… he opened his eyes.
Slowly. Lazily. As if awoken from a dream he wasn’t particularly enjoying.
A flicker of confusion passed across his features. He blinked once, then sighed—softly, as though he were disappointed.
As though the overwhelming aura that had left others trembling was nothing more than a passing breeze to him.
None of the others noticed.
None… except one.
Elder Xiao Mei.
Usually poised and aloof, with piercing blue eyes and an elegance that could freeze fire, she stiffened. Her breath caught in her throat.
Her eyes locked onto Xiao Chen like a hawk spotting a snake in the grass.
Impossible…
Even she, a late-stage Martial Grandmaster, would not be able to fend of Elder Xiao Feng's aura so easily. Yet this boy... this boy hadn’t even flinched.
For the first time in decades, disbelief flashed across Elder Xiao Mei’s beautiful face.
Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.
She peered deeper, trying to peel away the mask, to see through whatever technique or trick he was using to withstand such pressure.
And then, Xiao Chen opened his eyes again—this time meeting hers.
Time stopped.
In that moment, something shifted.
A golden hue began to bleed into Xiao Chen’s eyes. The deep obsidian faded, replaced by a molten, glowing gold—ancient and otherworldly.
A low rumble echoed faintly through the chamber.
Not from his throat.
But from his blood.
A primal force stirred, coiling like a dragon waking in the depths of the abyss.
Elder Xiao Mei’s pupils shrank.
Her breath hitched as something immense swept over her senses.
A dragon’s aura.
Vast. Wild. Ancient.
It wasn’t a Martial Soul Realm presence.
It wasn’t a Grandmaster’s aura.
This was something far older. Something primordial.
Her knees nearly gave way.
For the span of a heartbeat, she saw it—mountains crumbling, oceans parting, heavens bowing—all beneath the golden gaze of the Heavenly Yin-Yang Dragon.
The gaze bore into her soul, dissecting her very being.
And then… it vanished.
The golden glow faded. Xiao Chen blinked once, eyes returning to calm black. He sighed once more and shut his eyes, indifferent.
To him, it was nothing.
To Elder Xiao Mei, it was a glimpse into something terrifying.
She gasped, placing a trembling hand over her chest. Sweat ran down her temple. Her grace shattered.
In a barely audible whisper, a single word escaped her lips.
“Monster…”
She took a shaky step back, eyes wide. For the first time, she felt fear—directed not at an enemy or a rival, but at a junior.
Xiao Chen tilted his head, catching her expression.
Fear. Confusion. Awe.
He blinked.
Then, uninterested, closed his eyes once more, drifting back into his silent world.
The hall remained quiet, the pressure lingering like a fading storm.
But something had changed.
To Elder Xiao Mei, one truth now burned brighter than all others:
This boy was no ordinary genius.
He was something else entirely.
A dragon in the guise of a mortal.
---
“Hahaha! Don’t be so strict on them. They’re just expressing their joy,” Elder Xiao Jian’s laughter finally broke the silence, rolling across the room like thunder.
Elder Xiao Feng snorted. “With that kind of attitude, they’ll disgrace our clan in the Elemental Dao Sect.”
The First Elder grunted in agreement, arms folded, expression cold. “Proper conduct is a sign of proper upbringing. It reflects on the family’s name.”
The Third Elder smiled ruefully, his slender fingers rhythmically rolling the prayer beads in his hand. The soft clack was the only calm sound in the tension-thickened room.
“Enough.”
Elder Xiao Jian waved his hand.
The elders fell silent.
His expression sharpened as his gaze swept across the younger generation.
He paused on Xiao Chen.
That boy… he thought. Calm, distant, utterly indifferent. There was something strange about him. Something… unsettling.
A chill ran down his spine.
But he said nothing.
Instead, his voice dropped lower, firm and commanding.
“Let’s return to the real reason I called you all here.”
The remaining geniuses straightened, eager, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
The Elemental Dao Sect.
Every one of them dreamed of entering.
“There are conditions,” Xiao Jian continued, tone like steel. “You must meet them before you’re even qualified to apply.”
The air thickened again—not from spiritual pressure, but from anxiety.
“First,” he declared, “you must have awakened at least a High-Grade Spirit Rank Martial Spirit. Anything lower... will not be considered.”
Eyes immediately turned toward one figure.
Xiao Niye.
A skinny youth with short black hair, Xiao Niye visibly tensed. Cold sweat beaded his forehead, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
He was the only one among them who had awakened a Mid-Grade Spirit Rank Martial Spirit during the recent ceremony—which was also a weapon type martial spirit considered inferior to beast-type Martial Spirit at the same level
In a Grade Two influence, such a Martial Spirit was considered decent — even worthy of praise. But within a Grade Four influence like the Elemental Dao Sect, it wasn’t even worth mentioning.
Xiao Niye bit his lower lip until it bled.
He had known this was coming, but hearing it aloud still shattered him.
“I… I was eliminated before I even had a chance…”
Around him, some spared him pitying glances.
Others, like Xiao Han, sneered openly.
Xiao Rongyu didn’t even glance his way. She simply sighed inwardly.
Fate… is often cruel.