Chapter 885: Dying to get treasures

Chapter 885: Dying to get treasures

Arnold’s eyes brightened, but his voice carried the weight of authority and experience. “Junior Brother Dustin, Junior Brother Corey, be careful. There must be a monster nearby.” His tone was sharp, clearly aware that something as precious as a Pure Yang Flower would never be left unguarded in a place like this.

“It’s fine,” Dustin replied with a careless grin, the young man’s confidence bordering on arrogance. “With Senior Brother Devon and Senior Brother Rick here, even if there is a monster, we have nothing to fear.” Corey nodded in agreement, looking equally unbothered by the warning.

Arnold, however, frowned slightly. “Even so, we still need to be careful.”

The tall and broad-shouldered young man standing to Arnold’s left, Devon, waved his hand casually and smiled. “Junior Brother Arnold is right. It’s best to remain cautious about everything. Better safe than sorry.”

Rick, standing on the opposite side, swept his eyes across the surroundings, scanning the trees and water cautiously. “You two,” he said, motioning toward Dustin and Corey, “go pick the Pure Yang Flowers together. Junior Brother Devon and I will stand guard on both sides.”

“Good,” Devon said firmly, giving his approval for Dustin and Corey to move forward.

The two young men nodded in unison, their expressions tense but determined. They quickly activated their protective shields, shimmering layers of vital essence that glowed faintly around their bodies, and began cautiously moving toward the pool where the Pure Yang Flower bloomed in serene stillness.

But just as they neared the edge of the pool, an ominous rumble echoed from beneath the surface. The entire body of water trembled violently, ripples spreading out like shockwaves.

Then, with a deafening roar that shook the forest and reached the skies, a massive figure erupted from the depths.

Three serpentine necks surged upward, each supporting a dragon’s ferocious head, scales glistening black as ink and eyes burning like crimson lanterns. The three-headed black dragon, guardian of the Pure Yang Flower, had revealed itself in all its terrifying might.

Its three mouths opened wide, lined with jagged fangs glinting coldly. A foul, bloody mist sprayed from its throats as it roared again, the sound making the very air quake.

In the next instant, its heads lunged forward in perfect unison, swooping down like bolts of black lightning and targeting the two young cultivators.

“Careful!” Dustin shouted, his eyes widening in horror as he instantly realized the danger. His spiritual shield flared brighter as he retreated as fast as he could, his feet pushing against the ground with desperate force. He called out to Corey, who had been just a step behind him.

But Corey never had a chance. The three-headed black dragon’s speed was monstrous, far exceeding what either of them had expected. One of its enormous heads shot forward, jaws snapping shut around Corey before he could even turn around.

The sound of crushing bones echoed chillingly, and when the dragon raised its head again, Corey was simply gone—swallowed whole, leaving not even a drop of blood behind.

The sight turned Dustin’s face ashen, draining the color from his features. His eyes reflected sheer terror as he screamed, “Brother Devon, save me!” His voice cracked, his panic evident, as he tried to retreat further from the creature’s terrifying reach.

“A three-headed black dragon?!” Devon’s voice was sharp with shock. He and Rick, who had been guarding the perimeter, froze for half a heartbeat before their expressions hardened in grim realization.

The three-headed black dragon was a rare and terrifying beast, its aura unmistakable. And this one wasn’t just any ordinary dragon—it was at the peak of the Legend Rank, its strength surpassing even their own combined power.

But Dustin was their junior brother, and despite the terror gripping them, leaving him to die was unthinkable. Gritting their teeth, Devon and Rick drew their weapons, spiritual energy erupting from their bodies as they launched forward, determined to save him.

Yet they had underestimated the dragon’s terrifying speed and precision. Even as they moved, the beast’s three heads twisted like striking snakes, surrounding Dustin from every direction. His shield cracked under the overwhelming pressure of their combined force. One head lunged straight down, jaws wide, and clamped over Dustin’s torso.

“Ahhh!” Dustin screamed, his voice ringing with desperation as he slashed wildly, trying to resist, but it was hopeless. The dragon’s teeth closed with a sickening click, severing his head cleanly from his body.

The headless corpse fell limply from mid-air, spiraling downward before hitting the ground with a thud, blood gushing in thick streams. The crimson spray splattered across the pool’s surface, dyeing the clear water a deep, chilling red.

“Junior Brother Dustin?!” Devon’s voice cracked as he screamed, the words choked with disbelief and fury. Both he and Rick stopped mid-step, their faces twisted with rage and horror at the gruesome scene unfolding before them.

The stench of blood, the sight of their brother’s lifeless body, and the monstrous dragon’s low, guttural growl ignited their killing intent like a blazing inferno. Their eyes locked on the three-headed black dragon, filled with anger and a thirst for vengeance.

Arnold, who had been standing behind the group, was momentarily frozen when the monstrous figure fully emerged from the pool. His pupils shrank as he stared at the beast before him. He had anticipated that there would be some sort of guardian here—after all, a treasure as rare as the Pure Yang Flower could not possibly be left unprotected—but he had never imagined it would be this.

A three-headed black dragon, and not just any variant, but one that had reached the absolute peak of the Legend Rank. Even among guardian beasts, this was an apex predator, a nightmare for most cultivators.

As he processed what he was seeing, the situation ahead escalated. Devon and Rick, perhaps acting on instinct rather than reason, charged forward, their weapons flashing with spiritual light as they tried to stop the dragon from killing another member of their team.

Arnold’s heart lurched in alarm, and he immediately shouted at the top of his lungs, “Senior Brother Devon, Senior Brother Rick, retreat quickly! That beast’s strength is at the Peak of the Legend Rank—you’ll die if you engage it head-on!”

His words were like a sudden bucket of ice water dumped over their heads, dousing whatever reckless courage had propelled them forward. The chill of reality sank in. No matter how skilled they were, they were still only at the 6th level of the Legend Rank.

Against a three-headed black dragon at the peak of the Legend Rank, the difference in strength was as vast as heaven and earth. Charging in wasn’t bravery—it was suicide.

They stumbled back, their faces pale as they reassessed their situation, and for a moment, survival outweighed vengeance. But the dragon was already enraged, its fury initially provoked by Max’s earlier intrusion and now intensified by these newcomers attempting to snatch the Pure Yang Flower it had sworn to protect.

With a deafening roar, the creature lunged forward, three heads weaving like striking serpents, and unleashed a surge of poisonous gas so thick and foul it was like a rolling river of death. The miasma surged straight toward Devon and Rick, the air instantly becoming saturated with a choking, corrosive stench that burned the lungs.

However, Devon was no ordinary cultivator. Though shaken, he still retained his composure—battle experience had sharpened his reactions. He gritted his teeth, drew a deep breath, and slammed his palms forward with all his strength.

Golden-brown mana burst from his hands, twisting and solidifying into form. In an instant, an ochre-colored monument of hardened spiritual energy rose before him, like a slab of rock carved from the earth itself, standing as a shield between him and the oncoming wave of poison.

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