Chapter Eighteen: The Shadow of the Dragon

Boom!

A thunderous crash echoed, sounding like a muffled drumbeat. Yang Ye burst through several rooms and arrived outside the meditation chamber where Yang Haishan was cultivating. He struck the wall with his fist.

The drum-like sound was caused by the chamber vibrating from his blow. The concrete exterior of the chamber shattered under his punch, revealing a thick plate of alloy steel beneath. Failing to break through the alloy steel, Yang Ye was forced back several steps by the rebound, his left arm numb.

If fists weren’t enough, there was always the short blade that could cut through iron as if it were mud!

Hiss, hiss, hiss...

Yang Ye swung his blade in rapid succession, each slash screeching against the alloy steel, sending sparks flying and showering the ground with metallic debris.

“Men! Stop him!” He Shan roared as he witnessed the scene.

But no one dared move. Not even He himself or the two other Planet-level cultivators by his side. A moment ago, Yang Ye had crippled an expert of their own rank in an instant—going up against him now would be suicide.

Yet if this went on, Yang Ye would eventually carve through the alloy steel.

At that moment, a squad of estate guards armed with firearms arrived. He Shan immediately ordered them to open fire.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A torrent of gunfire filled the air. Yang Ye unleashed the star force within his body, forming an invisible energy shield. Bullets meant to stop him bounced harmlessly off the star force barrier.

Seeing the bullets do nothing against Yang Ye’s defense, He Shan was stunned. If it were him, he’d already have been riddled with holes by these specially crafted rounds.

“Hurry! Quickly!” He was at his wit’s end when Yang Haishan’s eldest son, Yang Le, arrived—trailing behind him was a man carrying a large-caliber, long-barreled rifle.

This was a sniper rifle purpose-built to deal with cultivators; anyone below the Stellar level could not hope to withstand a shot from it.

“Shoot! Now!” Yang Le commanded with a wave of his hand.

The gunman didn’t bother aiming. He dropped prone and fired at Yang Ye.

Boom!

The gun’s roar was like that of a cannon. A bullet as thick as a thumb spun at high velocity, slamming hard into Yang Ye’s star force shield.

Sensing the bullet’s power, Yang Ye’s heart skipped a beat. He dodged to the side. The bullet passed so close it grazed his left cheek, leaving a blackened wound.

The shot had been aimed at the back of his head. If he hadn’t reacted in time, using his star force to divert the bullet, he’d have been killed instantly.

“Courting death!” Yang Ye snapped coldly. He raised his hand, spun his body, and hurled a throwing knife at the gunman.

Whoosh—

Boom!

As the throwing knife flew toward the gunman, Yang Ye smashed his fist into the alloy steel plate. At the same moment the gunman was felled, the alloy plate finally gave way under Yang Ye’s assault.

With chop after chop from his short blade, Yang Ye had carved a circle a meter in diameter in the plate. Now, with a final punch, he blasted the central piece inward.

Hardly had he broken through when a wave of scorching star force—like the blazing heat of the sun—surged out from the chamber.

Yang Haishan had finally ascended to the Stellar level.

He was well aware of the chaos outside. As soon as the chamber was breached, he didn’t even glance at the opening; he simply unleashed a palm strike toward it.

For cultivators, the difference between realms was all about the quality of one’s power. The higher the realm, the greater the energy’s potency.

The star force wielded by a Planet-level cultivator was, compared to that of a Stellar-level, like comparing a stone to a chunk of iron. Same size, vastly different destructive force.

Yang Ye reacted instantly to the surge of power, dodging aside.

Boom!

With another crash, the meter-wide hole in the alloy steel doubled in size.

Dressed in a black Zhongshan suit, Yang Haishan strode out of the chamber amid the aftermath of his powerful attack.

Yang Ye didn’t stop retreating until he had fallen back several dozen paces.

Ten years—it had been ten years since Yang Ye last stood face to face with Yang Haishan.

Compared to the photos and files he’d once studied, Yang Haishan—now a Stellar-level cultivator—looked much younger. Once appearing in his fifties, he now seemed scarcely over forty.

The cultivation journey was, in essence, a process of elevating one’s life force. Stellar-level cultivators could live up to five centuries!

Compared to ordinary men, Yang Haishan, just over a hundred years old, was now akin to a young man. In time, he would look even younger.

“Xiaoqing!” Yang Ye called in his mind.

“Husband!” Long Xiaoqing replied.

Yang Ye said calmly, “It’s time.”

“Yes, my love!” As Long Xiaoqing’s voice faded, Yang Ye suddenly felt an immense, unmatched power fill his body—not star force, but something different.

Thus, the star force fluctuations emanating from him did not noticeably intensify.

After his breakthrough, Yang Haishan’s bearing was even more composed—like a colossal mountain, the pressure he exuded made it hard for those around to breathe.

“Who are you? Why did you kill my second son, Yang Xiao, and my steward, Qin Feng?” Under the bright lights, Yang Haishan, hands clasped behind his back, gave Yang Ye a cold, appraising stare.

His voice carried such force of will that those who heard it felt as though a boulder had crashed into their chests. The crowd retreated further.

Yang Ye stood his ground and chuckled, “Dear Uncle, don’t you recognize me? I am Yang Ye!”

Yang Ye!

Yang Haishan’s eyes narrowed, and a smile crept onto his face.

He had been puzzling over who could bear such a grudge against him, who would go so far as to kill his son. He had made many enemies—anyone could be responsible.

Now, he had his answer.

And with that, he actually felt relieved.

Just a greenhorn who’d barely reached the mid-Planet level and was already so eager for revenge.

“I should never have let you leave this estate all those years ago. Now, at last, I can correct that mistake,” Yang Haishan said, stepping toward Yang Ye.

As the distance closed, Yang Ye clenched his fists.

A Planet-level cultivator defeating a Stellar-level was sheer fantasy.

But with Long Xiaoqing’s help, things were different.

Yang Haishan had just broken through and his foundation was unstable—this was a fight he could win!

“Heh.” Seeing Yang Ye’s wary stance, Yang Haishan let out a cold laugh. He suddenly sprang forward, his figure a blur as he charged at Yang Ye.

Whoosh—

His speed whipped up a roaring wind.

“Kill!” Yang Ye raised his fist and met the oncoming figure head-on.

In an instant, a supremely condensed burst of energy shot from Yang Ye’s fist. To onlookers, the punch seemed nothing special—its aura and power less impressive than the one he’d used earlier against the giant.

“Fool!” Yang Haishan sneered inwardly, sending a palm strike toward Yang Ye’s chest. He was confident this blow would shatter Yang Ye’s star sea. If Yang Ye survived, he would be sure to torment him as payback for his son’s death.

But—

Boom!

Fist and palm collided with a thunderous crack, the impact sending shockwaves rippling outward and forcing both Yang Ye and Yang Haishan to retreat.

But it wasn’t over yet.

To everyone’s astonishment, amid the swirling energies, a blue dragon’s shadow suddenly appeared, coalescing in a flash and crashing into Yang Haishan’s chest.

The star force within Yang Haishan, still in violent upheaval, was further destabilized by the dragon’s assault. In his star sea, the newly formed stellar body began to crack.

Desperate, Yang Haishan focused his mind, binding his star with his will to prevent it from shattering.

He had nearly lost his stellar body—almost been demoted from the Stellar level straight back to the Fallen Star level.

Yang Ye didn’t escape unscathed either. The energy’s backlash left him with serious internal injuries, but he forced himself to stand, swallowing the blood that welled up in his throat.