Chapter 17: The Return of the Dragonborn

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Great Yao Imperial City, Star Observation Tower.
The entire tower was arranged in the pattern of yin and yang fish: the raised jade stone ground represented yang, while the recessed pools represented yin. From the raised areas, one could see a clear, bright sky; from the pools, it was perpetual night, the water reflecting countless stars.
In the yang zones, incense burners were placed, their smoke rising straight into the sky, pulling the clouds above like troops arranged for battle formations. Especially notable was the fierce tug-of-war with the massive whirlpool to the northeast. After all, the Dragonborn outside the heavens continuously gathered the planet’s clouds to maintain a stable channel for their descent, diminishing the northern rain and dew of Great Yao in the process.
In the yin zones, the stars in the pools flickered in response to the immense power outside the pavilion—brightening and dimming like sharp swords, their light directed toward rebellious lands, causing frost to appear or fierce winds to blow. Each star carried a different meaning: drought, flood, misfortune, or blessing. The Celestial Overseers of Great Yao adjusted these radiant stars to harmonize the world’s divinations.
This was a battle of sorcery, one that had lasted three years. Utilizing the gathered dragon energy of the world, Great Yao’s divine city repelled numerous invading forces in the starry sky, especially the “Wicked Dragon Clan” seeking to return to the world.
From the viewpoint of Great Yao’s Celestial Overseers, these dragons who fled beyond the heavens during the previous dynasty were utterly reckless! Other extraterrestrial peoples avoided Great Yao’s prosperous states and settled in the surrounding wilderness, but these destitute ones now dared to descend directly into the northern territories inside the passes! Truly, they had no sense of reality.
That said, the northern passes were indeed the domain of this dragon clan in the former dynasty (the Cheng dynasty), but now those lands had new masters.
…Heaven’s way still allowed a sliver of mercy, but the human realm despised these immigrants…
In the 25th year of the Shoutian calendar, the conflict ended, and a magnificent aurora spread from the north, covering much of the Yao Dynasty—this strange celestial phenomenon heralded the return of the Dragonborn.
Without the Celestial Overseers’ manipulation of the stars’ chaotic light, the Haotian Dragons could have easily opened the “Gate Between Two Realms” in the fertile lands of the Xiren world. But given the current balance of power, the Haotian Dragons had to open the gates at the planet’s north and south magnetic poles (what the Daoist sect called the Sky’s Seam), reaching this world through these crevices.
In the northern wilderness, a spatial gate unfolded—a roughly circular portal framed by a coiling dragon that expanded the boundary of the space.
From the Dragon Gate leapt out draconic horse cavalry, their wings flapping in the air. Such mounts also existed in the Xiren world—or perhaps were the same species.
Of course, after tens of thousands of years of evolution in different worlds, especially under the corruption of alien energies, the dragon horses from each place showed notable differences in their tail scales and teeth. The native dragon horses’ tusks curved upward like wild boars, while those of Haotian’s curved downward like saber-toothed tigers.
Following the dragon horse units came the Heavenly Court’s Dragon Guards, wielding long spears enchanted with Primordial Stones. Clad in battle armor, their footfalls shook the earth and the very fabric of space with the rhythm of war drums.
Then came the spear infantry, armored crossbowmen, and the iron-gun bearers carrying two-meter-long polearms called Crane Hailers.
Besides the native dragons, there were hired foreign troops from Haotian’s realm—tall, slender high elf archers shooting scorching arrows, and stout dwarves clad in heavy armor.
Before Haotian’s realm reached its demise, some dragon scions foresaw the inevitable catastrophe. These powerful descendants traveled the realm, gathering materials and even borrowing the power of chaotic destructive forces to forge the Ascension Gates to the Xiren world.
…Beyond this, another force crossing the boundaries also took control of the situation…
In the northern wilderness, the Haotian Dragon Army’s fortress quickly took root. Once the rammed earth walls stood tall, a blue-white Eastern dragon spiraled through the sky, opening its mouth to breathe azure flames. After the scorching breath passed, a miracle occurred—the earthen walls became solid and pale, resembling stone. Craftsmen then began constructing beams and tiled roofs atop the fortified towers.
The northern frontier was barren, with few trees; these tiled towers were essentially “yaodongs” (cave dwellings), so tiles weren’t strictly necessary. But the dragons’ pride as a civilization would not allow them to appear barbaric.
The Eastern dragon, spewing blue flames, landed in the city center. As the city’s formation rotated, the dragon shape shrank under the penetrating analysis of yin-yang divinations, quickly transforming into a small human figure below.
Only after the luminous Eastern dragon completed its transformation was it clear she was a woman.
She was Pu’e, a dragonborn and the Dragon Emperor’s grandchild. Among her generation, she was the most outstanding, mastering free transformation between dragon and human forms in just three hundred years.
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At Haotian’s demise, the Dragon Emperor spread his people across multiple known planets in the star sea. These new-generation Haotian Dragons directly replaced the native weak civilizations on those worlds. Of course, upon returning to the Xiren world—this ancestral star—the elder dragons warned them to hold a certain reverence. However, Pu’e, proud from other worlds, embodied the radical faction of the dragonborn. While journeying through the stars, she had already received warnings from Great Yao’s Heavenly Son, but to her and her faction, such warnings spurred them to assert themselves more forcefully here.
“To rebuild the eternal Heavenly Dynasty in this realm!” Pu’e promised her migrating people.
Besides her native identity, Pu’e was also a “transcender.” Before entering the hall, she activated her transcending system—a system visible only to its user.
If compared with Xuan Chong’s system, their interfaces were similar, differing only in minor details.
Xuan Chong’s system bore the motto “Virtue, Intelligence, Physicality, Aesthetics, Labor,” while Pu’e’s read “Wisdom and Bravery Combined.”
The progenitors of the Haotian Dragons had merged with human women after assuming human form, giving birth to dragonborn whose default form was human. If the dragon blood did not awaken, they were essentially ordinary humans, perhaps just more robust. Once awakened, they could transform into dragons.
Pu’e awakened at ten years old, surpassed the Dragon Gate within a century, and for three hundred years shifted fluidly between human and dragon forms. As a fourth-generation dragonborn, her dragon form was already comparable to third-generation dragons aged over a thousand years, rivaling even the Dragon Emperor’s own offspring. This was no mere talent.
Her system detailed the transformation between “dragon” and “human” forms, mapping the conversion of organs and nerves. Such “digital simulation” closely resembled the transformation process recorded for Xiao Qing between “human” and “serpent demon” when Xuan Chong’s system restored his gem.
Thus, the same technological lineage existed, only the dragon transformation was more complex.
Pu’e chewed on a luminous pearl, swallowing it crushed. Her white, glossy hair cascaded like a waterfall, evidently delighted by the snack, so she chewed another.
Reclining on the cool jade chair, snacking, she opened her system and casually asked, “Xiao Yun, now that we’ve arrived in this plane, when can I draw cards?”
Transcending System: “Your general cards are being prepared—you must understand that ‘general souls’ must be localized to the plane, matching similar growth experiences and willpower.”
Pu’e leaned back in the chair. This jade chair and bronze-pillared hall were splendid indeed, but far too cold and uncomfortable for ordinary Great Yao humans. Yet the palace’s owner was a mighty dragon.
With a hint of anticipation, Pu’e asked, “I’ve counted this as my forty-fifth card draw. This is guaranteed, right?”
System responded: “It’s a male card.”
Satisfied, Pu’e nodded. As a dragon, well, the nature of dragons—this was perfectly natural.
…As a transcender, she was familiar with her own system’s processes but not necessarily those of others…
Inside Tianchi City, as rows of bed crossbows were gradually drawn, the nearby generals watched Wu Hanluan anxiously. Wu Hanluan’s expression remained unchanged; suddenly, the sword he held sliced downwards. The bed crossbows targeted Wu Hengyu, who rode the suanni named Wu Zhu. The suanni’s gaze disdainfully swept over the crossbows a hundred paces away as if they were mere farm dogs, while Wu Hengyu brandished the Starry Han Spear, as dashing as a star on a boulevard of lights.
As Wu Hanluan swung his sword, the crossbows began firing.
On the range, Wu Hengyu seemed “ignorant” and “fearless,” almost stunned. Yet as the bolts closed within twenty paces, Wu Zhu moved in a peculiar way—its shadow dispersed like smoke, then carried Wu Hengyu to another spot.
The bolts passed through the side, striking the ground. Three embedded in the earth, one ricocheted off a stone, scattering fragments that brushed past Wu Hengyu without causing harm.
At the moment the crossbow fire targeted Wu Hengyu, he had already divined their firing trajectories and evaded them, even anticipating the danger of flying stone fragments.
On the city wall, Wu Hanluan ordered, “Fire again.”
Facing the second volley, Wu Hengyu did not dodge but raised his Starry Han Spear, its tip forming sharp twin blades that cleaved the incoming bolts like a bamboo stalk split by an axe, shattering the arrow shafts.
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While the crossbow operator hastily rubbed his eyes, within three breaths, Wu Zhu had carried Wu Hengyu to stand atop the city wall.
As Wu Hengyu reported to Wu Hanluan on the battlements, the generals offered their congratulations on his prowess. Their eagerness resembled gifts to a newly promoted leader, for Wu Hengyu might forget each congratulator, but he would never forget those who withheld their praise.
Wu Hanluan stroked his beard thoughtfully. He already knew of Wu Hengyu’s abilities, just as he introduced Wu Fei to the officers. The recent display was mere showmanship, presenting the best and most convincing side of the young Wu family’s disciples to the generals.
Wu Hengyu’s strength lay in charging—the power of his assault was great but not invincible on the battlefield. Combat atmospheres were complex; once soldiers formed battle arrays, their combined aura walls were far stronger than the recent drill. The first volley had been restrained, lacking much aura; the second contained some, but when Wu Hengyu’s spear deflected these arrows and he leapt onto the wall, the aura dissipated.
Aura had corrosive power, aging equipment and weighing down those charging with the force of thousands of pounds.
Wu Hengyu had just performed all this in near-perfect conditions. Wu Hanluan then invited Wu Hengyu to sit beside him, waiting for another young Wu family prodigy to arrive at Tianchi City. Now, father and son fought side by side—together like close brothers.
…Six hours later, outside Tianchi City…
After ten days marching north from Yongji Pass, three hundred troops reached the checkpoint. Wu Fei folded the marching formation map and issued orders to shift the formation.
The original “short and thick” tactical march formation began to elongate to fit the city gate. The “short and thick” formation allowed quick transition into battle arrays, avoiding the plight the Ming army faced at the Battle of Sarhu; approaching home base, the formation stretched into a “long strip” to prevent congestion at the gate, enabling supplies and war machines to enter swiftly.
Following Wu Fei’s commands, the light-armored infantry at the front quickened to a trot, the middle ranks split into three lanes, with horses and vehicles occupying the central path.
At Tianchi’s gate, Wu Hengyu stood on the battlements, his gaze burning as he observed the marching troops below, deliberately showing disdain. Behind him, Wu Hanluan stroked his beard.
…
“In the time it takes for three incense sticks to burn, the carriages will have passed the city gates.”
On the wall, the gate officials bowed and informed Wu Hanluan accordingly.
Wu Hanluan nodded and glanced at Wu Hengyu, signaling “other people’s children,” which Wu Hengyu pretended not to see.
Wu Fei’s troops managed the gate passage with remarkable precision. After assessing how many civilian merchant caravans awaited entry, he dispatched a unit to intercept and guide them to a spacious area outside the gate to wait, while swift riders relayed orders to the gate guards.
Once clearance was given, the troops entered the main road’s center, while soldiers reassured (and warned) the merchants to wait calmly. Alongside the road, five incense sticks were lit, and cavalrymen cracked whips to announce that when the incense burned out, the roadblock would lift.
The waiting merchants watched the burning incense silently, even those with connections refrained from causing trouble, watching the procession like a spectacle.
Supplies and cavalry entered the city in a very short time, while the infantry queued on the right side, passing without interfering with the merchants exiting on the opposite side. The timing and formation discipline were astonishing.
The merchants and wealthy city residents watching from their carriages marveled at the army’s impeccable discipline. Even well-trained escort teams could not match such order, which at mountain passes often resembled chaotic markets.
Wu Hengyu, called forward by his father to welcome his cousin, no longer spoke of “victory depends solely on the general’s courage.”
Though his knowledge of military strategy was superficial, Wu Hengyu understood the art of war: attack, defense, and encampment all had their ranks. Yet, proud as ever, he would never admit this openly.