Chapter Fifty-Five: Scheming Against Each Other

“Your Majesty the Dragon King, there is something you may not know. In truth, that golden radiance contained little of worth—merely a jumble of memories, chaotic and fragmented. Within those memories was the account of an ancient dragon ancestor, a predecessor whose might traversed the heavens and earth, whose power was unmatched. He waged a battle that shook the very cosmos against a dozen awe-inspiring immortals from beyond this world…” Yi An vividly brought to life the image of the Ancestral Dragon from those “memories”—a depiction modeled entirely after the original. He had witnessed the Ancestral Dragon’s power during the first tribulation of the Dragon-Han era.

The first year of the Dragon-Han was a time of tribulation, the birth of the ancestors. The “Dragon” symbolized transformation; the “Han” signified greatness. When heaven and earth were yet unformed, primordial energy spun through the void, coiling and twisting, its shape ever-changing, weaving spirit and essence together—thus began the first tribulation of the Dragon-Han.

“It’s truly the Ancestor!” Ao Guang exclaimed in astonishment, utterly convinced. Yi An’s words were flawless, leaving no room for doubt.

The Ancestral Dragon was born in antiquity. Even Ao Guang, a Dragon King himself, knew little beyond what was preserved in the clan archives and passed down by word of mouth. If not for these, the name of their predecessor would long have faded from the memories of the younger generation.

Ao Qin quickly followed up, asking, “Brother, besides those memories, is there anything else recounted in the ancestor’s recollections?”

This was the question that weighed most heavily on everyone’s hearts.

In truth, what they desired most was not merely the Ancestral Dragon’s memories, but his legacy.

Eons of change had caused the dragon lineage to lose parts of its inheritance. Much was lost during the wars with the Demon Court, when their ancestors perished before they could pass on their knowledge.

As a result, the current dragons were far weaker than those of ages past—barely able to wield even a fraction of the Ancestral Dragon’s might.

Today’s dragons, it seemed, only brought shame to their ancestors.

That was why the Four Seas Dragon Kings appeared so eager upon hearing Yi An’s tale. If the lost legacies could be recovered, the dragons’ foundation would rise to new heights. With the Demon Court and Celestial Court no longer external threats, the dragons might even surpass their former glory.

After all, in this age, there was no power that could rival the dragons.

“Other than those memories, there is nothing particularly noteworthy,” Yi An replied with “honest” sincerity.

At his words, the Four Seas Dragon Kings turned ashen, the hope that had just ignited in their hearts doused with cold water, leaving only desolation.

“But…” Yi An paused.

“But what? Brother, don’t keep us in suspense! You’ll be the death of me!” Ao Qin, his hope rekindled, pressed urgently.

“But from what I gleaned in the memories, the recollections within that golden light are incomplete. What’s missing is precisely the record of the dragons’ inheritance. If my memory serves, the rest of the legacy is hidden within the dragons’ ancestral land,” Yi An explained gently. To preserve his life, he had to demonstrate his value; to reveal everything at once would simply invite a swift betrayal.

Though that golden light was nothing like the Ancestral Dragon’s true memory, as long as the Dragon Kings believed it, then fiction became reality.

Now, the real game would begin.

“Is this true!?” Ao Guang’s eyes shone with excitement as he gazed at Yi An, suddenly finding him most agreeable.

If Yi An spoke the truth, the value of the Ancestral Dragon’s legacy was beyond measure.

Moreover, in Ao Guang’s seasoned judgment, Yi An’s words rang true. How could a green youth have such cunning?

And his account was so detailed—these were secrets of the dragon race that even many of their own descendants did not know.

“Your insight is keen, Dragon King. But even if the remainder lies in the ancestral land, retrieving it will not be easy,” Yi An feigned difficulty.

“That’s hardly a problem. The entrance has already been dealt with. We need only send our young ones into the ancestral land to seek the Ancestor’s legacy. In a few days’ time, it will surely be in our grasp,” Ao Guang declared confidently.

The thunder that gravely injured Ao Shen at the entrance was surely the protective force of the Ancestral Dragon’s memory. Now that it was gone, nothing should hinder their return.

Although seizing the Ancestral Dragon’s legacy meant that the younger dragons would forfeit their chance to awaken their bloodlines this time, it was a small price to pay. To sacrifice a few dozen for the sake of their race’s eternal glory was a trade beyond measure.

“But as far as I know, that approach won’t work. Should you attempt to claim the memory by force, disaster will only repeat itself,” Yi An said with a wry smile, laying out the danger. Here, at least, he spoke the truth: without the guidance of that golden light, any who approached the legacy below would be reduced to ashes by thunder.

“What!” Ao Guang’s face changed, his heart a tumult of emotions. It was as if a starving man had a plate of meat set before him, only to find it forever out of reach—such was the bitterness in Ao Xiu’s heart.

“Brother, is there any way to resolve this?” Ao Qin asked.

The other Dragon Kings also turned their gazes to Yi An.

“There is but one way. Yet... forgive me, I cannot risk my life,” Yi An replied helplessly.

“Brother, please, tell us what it is. If you help our dragon clan, we shall be your friends. In all the world, who else could claim such an honor? Think carefully,” Ao Qin exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. No matter how perilous, the reward he offered could not be refused.

To gain the friendship of the dragons was to gain an unshakable ally—who in the world would dare challenge them now?

With the Celestial Court gone, the dragons’ confidence was absolute.

“To obtain the other memory, the fragment within me must serve as the key. Without this token, it is impossible. Yet the task is fraught with peril. One misstep and I’ll be destroyed. I am too weak to bear such a great responsibility,” Yi An said, implying that no reward, however great, could make him wager his life.

“My friend, how about this? I see you and my daughter are well matched. If all goes well, I shall personally preside over your marriage. What say you?” Ao Guang suddenly proposed.