Kuuung!

—Shaaaah!

From beyond the crevice, the gaping maw of a massive serpent emerged.

Scales patterned in a mix of white and blue—a blend reminiscent of the frozen lakes of the North Sea. However, one thing disrupted that harmony: the Python Poison darkening the top of its head.

—Shhhiiiiik!

Boom! Kkwaang! Boom!

The Azure Cold Serpent, even after raising its head above the crevice, couldn’t regain its senses.

Though a violent storm of cold energy began swirling around it, the flow was erratic—attempting to concentrate in one place, then scattering again.

Just as Bing Yerin had said, it knew how to use cold energy, but it seemed unable to control it properly.

The Python Poison had clearly taken effect.

“Damn, it’s huge.”

“Eek! Don’t look back, just run! Hurry!”

I had only glanced over my shoulder, yet Tang Sowol began slapping my back in panic. Of course, even as she yelled, she herself was also looking back.

I understood. Being helpless on someone’s back, watching a creature that size thrash about—it would make anyone panic. Still…

“My feet haven’t stopped, so don’t rush me.”

I was already unleashing my footwork at full force, pushing my internal energy to the limit of what my meridians could endure. I was even incorporating my Willpower—though I wasn’t yet fully accustomed to using it in footwork.

As a result, the ground shattered under every step I took with a booming roar. But all of it was drowned out by the monstrous thrashing of the Azure Cold Serpent behind us.

Then suddenly—the cacophony ceased. And Tang Sowol cried out, voice tense.

“Brother Cheon! It’s locked onto us!”

“I know.”

The chaotic aura of the Azure Cold Serpent had begun to settle. More importantly, I could now feel its killing intent, focused directly at us.

As I roused my aura to shield Tang Sowol from behind—

—Shaaaaah!

The Azure Cold Serpent opened its jaws wide and surged toward us in a straight line.

Its vertically slit pupils gleamed as it slithered forward with frightening speed. Its massive body gave it such momentum that each lurch closed the gap we had opened.

I was carrying Tang Sowol, and although Thunderclap Steps allowed for explosive acceleration, its top speed was average at best.

But even considering that—it was too fast.

Puzzled, I looked more closely—and immediately understood.

A creature of that size and weight should be grinding the earth beneath it as it moved. But the Flood Dragon’s scales glided over the ground as if it were sliding on ice.

That was one of the characteristics of the North Sea Ice Palace’s footwork—I had seen it several times while training with Seol Lihyang.

They had developed it because they often fought on slippery ice.

“So when they said it was clever, they weren’t kidding.”

It must have picked it up while fighting the previous Ice Palace Lord.

Of course, it wasn’t true footwork. A snake has no feet, after all.

But it had learned how to move its body smoothly over ice-covered terrain—just from observation, not training. That alone was remarkable.

Given its size and the terrain, it made sense that it could move even faster than I could.

“Is now really the time to be impressed, Brother Cheon?! It’s already close enough to strike!”

“Don’t worry. Snakes don’t have hands.”

“Is that really what you want to say right now?! We’re not even at the target location yet—!”

Trailing off, Tang Sowol swung her arm with a resolute look. The Python Poison, split into several streams like hidden weapons, lashed toward the Azure Cold Serpent.

But—

—Shhhhiiik!

It faltered slightly, but having already been doused in the poison once, perhaps its resistance had kicked in. It only roared in fury and bared its fangs.

Its mouth was large enough to swallow a building whole, and its fangs glinted like massive pillars rather than teeth.

Even if it wasn’t venomous, being bitten or swallowed by that thing meant certain death.

But I had expected this.

“Huup!”

Kuuung!

Without pausing, I planted my foot and redirected all the forward momentum into a rebound.

The recoil was enough to break bones if mistimed. But I redirected the force with a technique akin to Harmonized Redirection.

My body halted unnaturally, like it had been nailed to the spot. The momentum surged upward through my legs, waist, back, and finally my arm—each joint tracing a tight circle.

The instant all the power gathered in my arm, I twisted my torso and swung my sword with all my might—driven by a single thought: to protect the person on my back.

Wooooong!

A vivid form took shape atop the sword as my internal energy and willpower merged.

A pale sword aura surged upward, cleaving beneath the Azure Cold Serpent’s jaw.

Puuuck!

The beast had just begun to slam its jaws downward when the strike landed. Its gaping mouth slammed shut as if it had been punched, its head snapping upward.

The wound left under its jaw was far too large to be a typical sword cut.

Because I had cleaved not just its flesh—but the very space beyond my blade’s reach.

Roughly three times the length of my sword had been cut through. But still, it wasn’t a fatal blow.

At the moment of impact, the creature instinctively channeled energy to its jaw.

Whether due to the Python Poison, or simply poor focus, it hadn’t encased its entire body in icy scales like Bing Yerin described. But it could still quickly form a thin protective layer over where my sword would strike.

That wasn’t enough to block my blade—especially not one meant to sever energy itself—but it could dull its sharpness slightly.

“Damn thing’s huge and tough.”

Even with a sword aura, the resistance from its scales and hide was intense. When I hit bone, I couldn’t fully cut through—it turned into more of a blunt strike than a clean slice.

I had intended to split its jaw entirely. Instead, the impact sent its head flying upward, like it had been uppercut.

To the beast, the wound was probably just a deep scratch.

But with that one strike, I finally understood why even the Ice Heavenly Divine Lord had failed to kill it. Even after being poisoned, it was still this resilient.

But unlike him, I wasn’t alone.

The Flood Dragon shook its raised head, and a moment of alertness flickered in its eyes.

Just then—a small silhouette sprinted at incredible speed and launched herself through the air.

Seorin, who had been lying in wait while I lured the beast, stepped onto the air itself and shot forward.

She clenched her fist, crimson-black energy surging around it.

Suspended midair, she struck a straight punch toward the side of the Flood Dragon’s head.

KWAANG!

A thunderous crash echoed as the beast’s head twisted sharply, slamming into the ground.

THUD!

The ground trembled beneath its collapsed body.

As I set Tang Sowol down, I spoke quickly.

“You should be able to move now. Go ahead.”

“Understood. Please be careful, Brother Cheon.”

“With Senior Seorin here, there’s nothing to worry about.”

With that, I leapt into action, extending my sword aura as far as possible.

The Azure Cold Serpent, dazed by the unexpected blow, couldn’t recover.

Seorin’s destructive power was among the highest of all Flowering Stage martial artists.

She hadn’t concentrated her power into a single point—she had spread it wide to deliver a concussive strike.

The result? A huge dent, like something massive had struck the beast’s skull.

The thick scales hadn’t broken—yet. But it was only a matter of time.

Before it could rise, I swung my sword again.

“Haah!”

What mattered was the will to cut.

My sword aura shone brightly, flashing toward its eye.

—Shhhhiiik!

The serpent twisted its head just in time with a sharp hiss. But my strike, longer than the eye could follow, still grazed its scales.

Ssskkuk!

Without giving it time to gather energy, I managed to carve far deeper than before.

I didn’t hit its eye, but the long slash beneath it began to bleed profusely.

Strangely, the moment the blood hit the ground, it froze solid.

The sight of its own blood enraged the Flood Dragon. Unstable, yet immense cold energy began to surge once more.

Tuk.

Seorin landed beside the fresh wound with a few air steps. Then—

“Huup!”

Tuung!

Her crimson-black aura-coated fist launched toward the creature’s eye—point-blank.

Puuuck!

Her fist slammed into the giant eye, larger than Seorin herself. This time, the concentrated force ripped through its defenses.

Without time to resist, the eye burst—gushing blood like a waterfall.

—SHAAAAAH!

The Azure Cold Serpent thrashed madly, its body contorting in agony.

At the same time, it spewed cold energy recklessly, forming a fog-like haze all around.

Even Seorin couldn’t remain within it. She leapt back and landed beside me.

I swung my sword toward the creeping mass of cold energy.

Shrrrkk!

The energy scattered under my blade. Outside of our immediate area, the mist continued to thicken.

Facing blood-splattered Seorin, I said,

“Wipe the blood off, quickly. That stuff’s dangerous.”

“Don’t worry. I saw your strike freezing the blood and prepared accordingly.”

Though her body was coated in blood, it had already half-frozen. With a single shake, it shattered and fell away.

A faint yet solid layer of defensive aura covered her body. She must’ve blocked the splash with her inner defense.

I was quietly impressed as I swung my sword again.

Wooosh!

A wide slash this time—not just cutting incoming energy but dispersing the surrounding fog.

My field of vision cleared. The Azure Cold Serpent came into view.

Its mouth drooped with drool from the poison’s effect. Deep sword wounds marred its jaw and side, and blood poured endlessly from its burst eye.

We stared each other down, locked in a moment of tense silence.

If we continued, we could probably kill it. But we wouldn’t come out unscathed.

Even though the surprise attack succeeded and we destroyed one eye, my wound hadn’t been fatal.

If I were struck by its massive body, not even a defensive aura would save me from serious injury.

Perhaps knowing this, the Azure Cold Serpent glared at us with its remaining eye… then abruptly turned and fled.

We watched its retreating figure disappear into the crevice before I finally spoke.

“This much should be enough, right?”

“Mm! With wounds like that, it’ll take quite some time to recover.”

“Never thought I’d have this kind of experience in my life…”

“Same. This was my first time facing a spirit beast of this size.”

“Let’s hope it’s the last.”

I let out a dry laugh and sheathed my sword.

***

Deep within the crevice, the Azure Cold Serpent writhed in agony, barely suppressing its fury.

When the black liquid had poured over it, the energy in its body went berserk, tearing through its organs in a storm of pain.

It had charged out to kill the source of the pain—but ended up with more wounds and lost an eye.

But at least it was alive. That was enough.

Clearly, those attackers had come from a faraway land. Just bad luck. It would hide, recover, and regain its strength.

But what awaited it in the nest… were the corpses of its offspring, twisted in agony.

The Python Poison. The Flood Dragon didn’t know the name, but it immediately realized—the black liquid was what had killed its young.

—Shhhhiiik…

A snake cannot cry loudly. Only a long hiss echoed through the serpent’s den.

After mourning for a while, the Azure Cold Serpent began swallowing its children’s corpses one by one.

To absorb their pain, the remaining poison, their deaths… and their inner cores.

There was nowhere left to run. The dragon knew. The land it could survive in was shrinking day by day.

It had wanted to reclaim its home—but that no longer mattered.

A dull flame began to burn in its remaining eye.

A poison that brings death to serpents.

That poison’s name…was Despair.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep