novelzi 218. Bad Dragon
218. Bad Dragon
A white barrier of pure light pulsed quietly in the heart of the unnamed forest. Jin Shu stared at it, reluctance bleeding into his expression as a tight frown twisted his features.“I hate leaving this here. I wasted a whole Master Realm core and everything.”
“It wasn’t a waste if it saved us from that thing,” Gold said.
“True…” Jin Shu sighed. “Alright. I’d better get out of here before I cry. I had so many cool ideas for that core.”
He turned away, dragging his feet as he left the now-useless Pure-Light Trapping Formation behind. As he wandered off, he muttered to himself.
“A formation like that is the perfect counter to supernatural creatures. Guess that means I was right to think that moose was a ghost—or something close to it.”
He made it barely six feet before his back began to itch, as if ants were crawling beneath his skin. A sharp ripping sound followed, and the sensation vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
He spun around just in time to see a silver dragon—its scales traced with blood-red lines—swallow the Pure-Light Trapping Formation whole.
He recognized it instantly. How could he not?
It was the same dragon carved into his back when he broke through to the Spirit Realm. His spirit. The one he hadn’t even attempted to summon yet.
Somehow—impossibly—it had summoned itself… and decided to snack on his formation.
“What the—?”
The words died in his throat as his body convulsed in agony. Something burned into his back, searing straight through his nerves.
He summoned a water mirror. A hole had been torn through his robes, exposing his back—and etched into the scales of the blood-red dragon tattoo was a miniature Pure-Light Trapping Formation, slowly carving itself into existence.
Above him, the dragon spirit coiled through the air, chewing contentedly as it stirred a violent whirlwind of qi. The vortex formed a funnel that drilled straight into Jin Shu’s back, flooding his body.
Somehow—miraculously—he was breaking through to the Second Stage of the Spirit Realm.
That was not a good thing.
His body wasn’t ready. He hadn’t inscribed the necessary runes to balance his qi yet.
“No! Damn it—this is wrong!” he snarled through gritted teeth. “This thing is going to wreck my entire cultivation!”
“We need to focus,” Shuang said sharply. “We’ll split our minds three ways. Jin Shu, hold the breakthrough back as long as you can. Gold and I—with Nano’s help—will inscribe the necessary runes.”
Jin Shu didn’t have the luxury to argue—nor the desire. He clenched his jaw and plunged his consciousness into the tattoo across his back.
He entered the spirit realm within himself.
All cultivators gained such a space upon entering the Spirit Realm, a place where they could commune with their spirit and nourish it with a Seed of Knowledge to strengthen their bond and cultivation. Jin Shu, however, followed no such path. His cultivation technique required only runes and formations. His spirit was meant to grow on its own.
And it was growing.
Just… not correctly.
The space resembled his soul realm from before he’d gained elemental affinities—vast, empty, and white.
Except for the massive dragon coiled in the air above him.
Since he had entered the spirit space, it had naturally followed him inside. Willing or not.
With a thought, Jin Shu appeared midair, facing it. The dragon regarded him with eyes like pools of fresh blood.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
The spirit wasn’t intelligent enough to speak—it had only been born a week ago—but their souls were linked. Its emotions bled into him clearly.
Hunger.
Crushing, desperate hunger. Like a man who had starved his entire life.
“No matter how hungry you are,” Jin Shu said coldly, “you can’t just ignore our cultivation and eat whatever you want.”
“ROAR!”
Even as a soul body, the sound nearly deafened him. His ears rang, his head splitting as rage poured through the link.
“Oh, you’re mad?” Jin Shu laughed darkly. “Good. Because I’m fucking furious.”
He exerted his will.
Mental pressure crashed down like a mountain. The dragon spirit was ripped from the air and slammed into the ground, the impact shaking the white expanse as it roared again—rage-filled and defiant.
Jin Shu wasn’t entirely sure why his anger burned so hot.
But if he had to guess…
It was because the dragon reminded him of Long Jinshu—and all the fury he’d never been able to release before he died.
Glancing down at the wriggling dragon, Jin Shu thought of all the things he’d wanted to say to Long Jinshu—then shook his head.
This spirit wasn’t him.
He dropped onto the dragon’s head, meeting its massive eyes head-on.
“You did something wrong,” he said calmly. “So you need to be punished. But… it’s also my fault for ignoring you.”
The pressure crushing the dragon eased. It immediately tried to fling him off, thrashing beneath his feet—but Jin Shu remained firmly planted, stuck like a leech. This was his mind. There was no way for the spirit to overpower him here.
He reached out, asserting his will.
The raging dragon shrank rapidly, scales compressing until it was small enough to fit in his palm. Jin Shu lifted it up, holding it inches from his face.
“Still,” he said evenly, “I am your master. You will obey my commands.”
“ROAR!”
At that size, the sound was anything but threatening. If anything… it was kind of cute.
“My first command,” Jin Shu continued, unimpressed. “No more acting on your own.”
“Roa—!”
It tried to protest again. Jin Shu flicked its head.
The cry cut off abruptly.
Pain lanced through his own skull.
“—Ah. Right,” he groaned, clutching his head. “We share senses.”
The dragon spirit smirked—actually smirked—while rubbing its own head, transmitting a smug wave of schadenfreude.
“Yeah, yeah. Very funny,” Jin Shu muttered. “This must be why people say beast-type spirits are the hardest to raise.”
He let out a slow breath, thinking it through.
Spirits generally fell into two categories: beasts and weapons, with rare outliers—like his mother’s phoenix wings.
Beast-type spirits possessed limited intelligence, comparable to a child’s. That made them rebellious… but also adaptable. With Seeds of Knowledge, they could be molded fairly efficiently.
Weapon spirits, on the other hand, had no intelligence at all. They were easier to wield, but far harder to cultivate. Even with twice as many Seeds of Knowledge, they yielded barely half the results of a beast type.
His own technique followed neither path.
Borrowed from his mother’s dual cultivation method, it allowed spirits to grow by mingling and cultivating together. Since Jin Shu lacked a partner spirit, the technique had been altered. Instead of another spirit, his own would grow alongside the runes he inscribed on his body.
Those runes acted as pseudo–Seeds of Knowledge.
Which raised a problem.
“Hey,” Jin Shu said, frowning. “Where are the runes? They should be here—cultivating you.”
Only then did he realize something was missing.
The runes meant to nourish his spirit… weren’t present.
The dragon rolled its eyes and transmitted a single, unmistakable sentiment.
Idiot.
Jin Shu’s eye twitched.
It hadn’t actually spoken—but the implication was painfully clear.
He opened his mouth to respond, then froze as the dragon opened its mouth and spat out three softly pulsing runes.
“You… ate them?” Jin Shu stared.
The dragon transmitted hunger.
“Do they even have enough nutrients to—” Jin Shu stopped himself, raising a hand. “Never mind. That was a stupid question.”
The dragon nodded smugly.
Now you’re getting it.
He briefly considered flicking it again. Very briefly.
The tiny dragon clawed at the floating runes, transmitting a feeling Jin Shu struggled to interpret.
Not enough. Or Too little.
“…What?”
The dragon tilted its head, thought for a moment, then turned around and pointed at its own back, shifting its scales.
Jin Shu narrowed his eyes.
Two miniature formations were etched into them.
“Oh,” he said slowly. “You want more formations.”
The dragon turned back and nodded eagerly.
“I get it,” Jin Shu said. “But you can’t just eat any formation. We need to inscribe more runes first—to balance our body.”
The dragon bristled, transmitting irritation.
“Can’t be helped,” Jin Shu shrugged. “Otherwise we’re all stuck. You included.”
The dragon flicked its tail, thinking. Then it nudged the floating runes again and transmitted a simple demand.
More. Quickly.
“We’re moving as fast as we can,” Jin Shu replied. “But we need at least a week between breakthroughs. Any faster and we risk overloading our body.”
He paused, then added dryly, “And a week is already a hundred times faster than most cultivators could ever dream of. That’s an insane cultivation speed.”
The dragon was about to respond when its gaze snapped upward.
At the same instant, Jin Shu felt something change within his body—an unfamiliar presence forming behind his eyes.
He followed the dragon’s stare.
Floating above them was an Eagle Eye Rune.
A tracking rune.
They’d planned to connect it to their eyes eventually—to enhance perception and tracking.
“Guess things are going well out there… Hopefully.”