69 THE PRIMORDIAL GOD THAT THREADS THE SKIES (2/2)
Clench!
And the Evil Saint disappeared along with it!
”W-Where did boss go?” Jianpu asked, shivering from shock after shock.
Right then, Blindlight descended from the sky. On his gargantuan body, every single scale was larger than a mountain range had been dyed gold in its entirety, courtesy of the Immortal blood of those immortals that had perished under his fangs. Only his luscious scarlet mane, this extravagant and vain dragon had made sure to clean thoroughly after every feast.
Everyone respectfully bowed to the Dragon King, and he coiled in the air soundlessly. He kept on for a long while before stopping.
When he saw that his little stunt had those people below him, desperate for answers, on the verge of tears, so worried they were for their boss, he finally felt compelled to explain.
Goldy chuckled. He turned towards the crowd of confused beasts, monsters, and men and reassured them, ”No need to worry. That poor excuse of a Hellish Nightmare Dragon is too slow for the great Evil Saint to ride, so he decided to find someone else. Remember kids, don't take his example, as cheating is really bad! A relationship is a commitment of trust from both sides. Even if the other person is as ugly as Blacky here, you still should not-”
”BLIND! LIGHT!”
”Blacky, don't interrupt my plan to make you look foolish and have people stop dreading you!”
”YOU! ME! HERE! NOW!”
”Ah, kids these days…”
Xiao Lan, meanwhile had his gaze lost in the distance, muttering absent-mindedly to himself, uncaring for the majestic clash between dragons taking place above him.
”So, it was him…”
The glistening emeralds lit up in disbelief as it followed the trail of wind left behind by a primordial God, and the two-hundred-something-year-old youth that had caught up to him…
Meanwhile, already far away and getting even farther, Xu Ling's peculiar Dao kept him tightly rooted to the fierce wind that sped through the lands. And fortunately so, as to fall at such high speeds, even Xu Ling would be hurt quite a bit! Though he definitely wouldn't die, it wouldn't bode well for him either. Even in his current state, his body was battered nonstop by the winds, as he struggled to stabilize himself.
In its formlessness, this wind was uncaring for anything that might be in its path, as it could pass through any material, so long as it could find a single hole on its structure. At times, it would even pass straight through living, breathing beings, but they wouldn't feel a thing. At most, those sensitive enough would feel as if a sudden breeze had caressed their bodies just then.
The only reason Xu Ling hadn't smashed his head into a thousand different mountains yet was that having connected himself on an existential scale to the speeding wind, he had also indirectly acquired its formlessness. In this state, where he could go anywhere and not be bothered by anything, he experienced a degree of freedom like nothing before. He had to admit, even, that the first instant of that bliss had been enough to thoroughly intoxicate him, and only through sheer willpower did he maintain his rationale. Even those last few barriers, however, were on the verge of falling, as waves of pleasure flowed through him…
Fortunately, the level of existence of the other side was indescribably potent. At some point, the Evil Saint felt himself rapidly lose control over his Dao with each following moment. Eventually, the blue-eyed youth could only forcefully set aside the heavenly sensation and desperately call out,
”Senior! Could you please slow down?” The young man asked, and although the wind was going by incredibly fast, it was unable to dissipate or carry away his words, for the conversations between Immortals happened through a higher, existential medium.
Suddenly, it was as if Xu Ling had been slammed into the side of a mountain as the wind came to a sudden halt. The force of deceleration was incomparable to any attack the Evil Saint had ever carried out or had to bare before. Then, followed a hurricane so strong, everything in that Plane of Existence unlucky enough to not have been traversed by the ”Wind” yet, disappeared just like that. Before the Evil Saint could notice, the Plane of Existence beneath him had lost all color, as there was nothing left there. The winds had ravaged everything to an existential level, slashing the Qi that it met in its path into countless, irreparable pieces.
At that moment, had Xu Ling not pushed the attributes of his Dao to its limits and truly become one with that being and its sudden halt, he might as well not have had a cultivation base at all, so unimaginably high the Spiritual Energy requirement would have been to keep himself in place before the horror that had acted out before his eyes.
As for right below him, there was the sight of an era, shrouded in swirling steam and cloud vapor, wrapped in a cloak of howling winds…
A pristine body of finely engraved heavenly white metal, akin to a living suit of armor the size of a great castle, in a pointy shape like that of an ice pick: a featureless gigantic beak that could hold a candle to the Hellish Nightmare Dragon in length, as it also was almost a dozen miles long.
Though, in all fairness, the main body of this beast was like a grain of rice when placed beside the far more gigantic, twelve pairs of increasingly bigger pairs of wings that hovered by it…
Just the smallest of those wings was so huge, Blindlight couldn't amount to the width of a single feather. As for the biggest pair, it was so indescribably titanic that just one of those millions of feathers would outclass some of the bigger Planes of Existence in sheer size.
Each wing was composed of a single, sharp blade that extended for whole worlds, splitting into millions of metallic, also ice-pick-like feathers, that were arranged in a very meticulous fashion so as to push the aerodynamics of the whole to its absolute limits. The length of a feather was on the same scale of a whole wing's span, roughly a thirteenth of it, and extremely thin. Naturally, that so-called ”thinness” was merely in comparison: in reality, it was taller than any mountain.
The pristine metals of the wings were all engraved with incomprehensible designs that glowed an ethereal azure: eventually, they would become the color of molten metal if they kept on running for a few hundred million years too many, and would need a few millions of years of their own to cool back down.
Finally, at the tip of each feather was a gigantic formation, powered by the azure runes that ran throughout the body of the feather. There, they acted as countless propellers, working together to output enough power to level worlds, yet ”barely passable” to reach the speed that that being sought to achieve.
A suit of pristine armor covered from head to toe with runes and magical engravings, coupled with twelve pairs of wings larger than millions of Planes of Existence put together: those two together, perfected piece after piece throughout the eras, made up the single greatest metallic life form, one of Four, true Gods among Primordial Beasts.
Primordial Emperor of the Skies.
The Roc.