The Tyrant Dragon's Chase

Xiao Chen let out a helpless sigh. Zhao Lin'er truly had nerve, risking her own life to drive him into a corner. He spun and fled without a second thought—he could not allow himself to be torn apart by such a monster.

A sharp crack sounded beside him. The tyrant dragon's thick, powerful claw stamped down on a massive tree, missing Xiao Chen by a hair's breadth. Once again, he had brushed past death.

Xiao Chen did not want to die, but now despair began to creep in. This primeval beast had spotted him—what chance did he have to escape? Though he had shaken off Zhao Lin'er, he had fallen into another death trap.

Crack, crack!

The sound of ancient trees splintering rang around him like the rattling chains of the Grim Reaper. Even at his utmost speed, he could not outrun a beast that covered more than ten meters in a single stride.

"Roar!"

The tyrant dragon threw back its head and bellowed. The rolling shockwave nearly knocked Xiao Chen unconscious. He quickly sealed his hearing, yet his eardrums still throbbed as though they had been shattered.

He rolled on the ground, covered in mud. Not far away, the enormous, gleaming claws of the dragon sank more than a meter into the earth. Cold sweat poured from Xiao Chen—he had missed being impaled by the barest margin.

Xiao Chen was not one to give up easily, but now he felt that escape might truly be impossible.

A flash of silver caught his eye. He suddenly noticed a small horse, carved as if from divine jade, standing not far away. Its large eyes, black as gemstones, were filled with fear, yet it leaped onto the treetops and began to circle lightly around the tyrant dragon.

Was it drawing the attention of the primeval beast? Xiao Chen was astonished. That juvenile unicorn had come all the way here, seemingly… to save him.

The tyrant dragon was indeed distracted. Its savage, grotesque head turned toward the little celestial horse, which shimmered with rainbow light. With a roar, it lunged toward the horse.

Xiao Chen scrambled to his feet and ran a hundred meters in one breath, but then he stopped. He was afraid the little unicorn might come to harm. That adorable, mysterious celestial horse had come to rescue him—if it were to die, his conscience would never forgive him.

The little celestial horse raced across the crowns of the trees, swift as lightning, a streak of light moving through the endless primeval forest. Even the ancient tyrant dragon, mountainous and covering ten meters each stride, could not catch it.

The little unicorn was truly extraordinary, leaping from treetop to treetop, its whole body flowing with radiance, as though it were truly flying.

Xiao Chen finally relaxed and fled without looking back. Of course, he would not head toward the coast—he was certain Zhao Lin'er was waiting for him there. The interior of the island was dangerous, but no one was deliberately trying to kill him. Perhaps it was safer for him now.

In the dark, rainy night, Xiao Chen ran, coughing up blood. He could not stop, could not turn back. During the time the little unicorn occupied the tyrant dragon, he had to escape the beast's territory.

He ran more than ten li through the mountain forest before collapsing into the rain. His body, grievously wounded by Wang Zifeng's detonation, could no longer hold out. He lay facedown in the muddy water, blood and rain mingling at the corners of his mouth.

Xiao Chen's eyelids grew heavy. He longed to lie down and sleep forever, but he knew he could not. The boundless primeval forest teemed with savage beasts; once the rain let up, he would become their prey.

He struggled to his feet and looked back along the path. He had put enough distance between himself and the ancient ferocious dragon. Climbing with difficulty onto a towering tree, he lost consciousness on a large branch.

In the hazy rain of the night, Xiao Chen vaguely sensed the little celestial horse approach. The snow-white, luminous creature circled him, blinking its large, intelligent eyes. It extended a crystal-clear front hoof, as if wanting to touch him, but then drew back in fear…

When Xiao Chen awoke, it was midday. The heavy rain had long stopped, and sunlight filtered through the leaves. He sat up with difficulty and surveyed his surroundings.

All around were lush, ancient trees. Below, a saber-toothed tiger stared at him with ferocious intent. Not far off, a thick snake as wide as a bucket lay motionless among a pile of rocks. Further away, several giant crocodiles rose and fell in a river.

It counted as a relatively safe place. The creatures below, though fierce, were among the gentler and weaker sort compared to the bizarre, savage monsters he had faced.

Still, Xiao Chen decided he should move. Two li away, he found a small peak covered in fragrant flowers and grass. The high ground allowed him to survey the surroundings—not only to watch for Zhao Lin'er but also to detect any unusual movements from the wild beasts nearby.

He had survived this close call only by the little unicorn's help. Even now, his heart still raced at the memory.

At the same time, he was puzzled. Legends said the ancient tyrant dragon could command wind and lightning, even fly through the sky, yet in that rainy night, he had seen none of those divine powers. Only the beast's savage nature had been on display. Could the legends be false?

That should not be the case.

Like the Eight-Armed Malignant Dragon, many ancient texts recorded their great divine abilities. They were by no means mere brutes driven by raw strength.

Xiao Chen recalled Wang Zifeng's words about this island: "A divine stele had to fall from the heavens to seal it."

Could it be that the ancient savage beasts had lost their divine powers? Xiao Chen began to connect many things…

Near the small peak, the grass was fresh and fragrant, the trees lush and verdant, and a clear spring gurgled, lending the place an air of spiritual vitality.

After a lunch of acceptable flavor, Xiao Chen lay down on a hammock woven from vines in the grove. He tasted a pineapple that had been soaked in the clear spring, breathed in the intoxicating scent of flowers and grass, and listened to the melodious birdsong from afar. His whole body relaxed.

Wang Zifeng's self-destruction of his life-force had gravely wounded Xiao Chen. If not for his timely retreat and defense, he might have died. Even now, he would need at least a month to fully recover.

Thirty days. Xiao Chen needed thirty days of peace. If he could weather that time, it would mark the beginning of a nightmare for Zhao Lin'er.

Time was life. Xiao Chen did not want to waste a single moment. He began to circulate the Profound Art of the Ancient Stele to heal his wounds.

The lush forest was covered with vegetation, filled with boundless wood essence. Standing in the sea of trees, Xiao Chen felt the clarity of the wood spirit energy and guided it into his body.

Thin streams of green light, following the rhythm of his breath, flowed within him—joyful, brimming with endless vitality. His flesh, organs, and bones seemed to be infused with surging life force.