Dragon Heart. Land Of Magic. LitRPG Wuxia Saga. Book 6

The ape mimicked Einen and spun its Spear-staff. What followed was an explosion, one akin to a barrel full of gunpowder going off. A ray of emerald light flooded everything. Shrinking to a single point, it landed on the tip of the islander's spear-staff.

"River Serpent's Dance!" Einen shouted.

A huge serpent emerged from behind him and struck the ground. Made out of green light, it was as wide as an a.d.u.l.t man's torso, and ten yards long. Each of its fangs was a spear, and each scale a blade. It smashed through their enemies like a battering ram and swallowed the ones unfortunate enough to get in its way. It was obvious how much using this Technique cost Einen — the glow of the ape's iridescent armor gradually faded, and its silhouette blurred. Even so, the impact was still enough to slow down the hundreds of Spirits that had closed in around his friends.

"What are you-" Anise started to ask, but Hadjar interrupted her.

"I didn't think I'd have to use this so soon.���

He sat down in a lotus position, placing the Black Blade across his l.a.p, then retreated into the depths of his soul. Passing through the darkness where the dragon and the Black Blade rested, he stopped in the middle of the vast valley covered with a carpet of green grass. Time passed slower here than in the real world. Even his appearance was different. His tattered clothes were gone, replaced by a simple but tidy gray robe, held in place by a scarlet rope around his waist that had a waterskin attached to it. His long, black hair was pulled back in a ponytail with a narrow leather strap. Instead of boots, he wore sandals. This was how he imagined himself.

"Master," he whispered and touched his forehead to the ground.

In front of him, at the top of the hill, stood the empty boulder on which the dragon Traves, the last of the Dark Storm tribe, had once sat.

Having paid his respects to his Master, Hadjar turned in the other direction, where a weak tree grew. It was no higher than his knee, but still strong enough to support the weight of the baby bird hidden in its canopy. The Quetzal bird, a symbol of freedom in orc culture.

Hadjar leaned forward and held out his hand. The bird stopped grooming the underside of its wing and yawned. With a flutter of its wings, it jumped up onto his finger.

"Will you help me, my Spirit?"

The bird stared into Hadjar's blue eyes, as if saying: Have I ever said no to you?

"I'm not trying to force you," he said. "There's no worse fate than being forced to do something against your will. There's nothing worse than being a slave to someone. I don't want to be the master of Freedom."

The bird let out a shrill cry and flapped its wings, as if saying: A man born free can never become a slave.

Hadjar laughed. The bird, although smaller than his finger, was every bit as tough and unyielding as he was.

"I'll lend you my power and you'll lend me yours, okay?"

The bird nodded.

With a deep sigh, Hadjar reached for his Core. Lifting his hand toward the sky, he suddenly lowered it and pointed at the bird. The clouds parted and a stream of black energy streaked with blue entered the Spirit, making it grow. The Quetzal needed wings larger than the sails of the biggest sh.i.p.s to soar freely to the highest heavens, to face any storm with its head held high, and fight off even the strongest of winds. Its talons grew sharper than any blade, ready to tear apart those who dared to try and take away its freedom.

A six-foot-tall bird spread its huge wings in front of Hadjar. With a high-pitched cry, it announced its arrival. It wrapped its tail around its friend's waist and they soared into the sky together.

***

Having spent almost all of his power, Einen slumped to the ground. Someone's will caught him and dragged him back under the barrier.

"What is that damned barbarian doing?" Tom shouted.

"Only he knows," Einen replied, far too calm for someone in his state.

The golems, once they saw that the huge serpent was gone, continued toward their goal. Hadjar, who was still sitting in the lotus position, suddenly extended his hand. There was nothing unusual about this simple gesture, but a second later, the protective barrier around his friends began to quiver.

"What the-"

A column of energy shot out of Hadjar's c.h.e.s.t and pierced the clouds. Instantly expanding, it engulfed the cultivator completely. The sand began to ripple and swirl into the air.

And then everything stopped. It was as if someone had called upon the wind only to dismiss it upon their arrival.

A sudden, high-pitched cry filled the air. The pillar disappeared, leaving behind a giant bird hovering in the air. It had a wingspan of six feet, and its sharp talons looked as deadly as any weapon.

"What is that? Some sort of artifact?" Dora whispered, dumbfounded.

"It's his Spirit," Einen answered.

"But that's impossible! He's just a Heaven Soldier!"

"No." Einen's purple eyes flashed. "He isn��t a Heaven Soldier, he's a f.u.c.k.i.n.g madman."

Still sitting in the lotus position, Hadjar raised his open palm toward the sky. The Black Blade immediately materialized in his grip, the blue hieroglyph adorning it shining brighter than the North Star.

The bird let out another shrill cry. Flapping its wings, it suddenly dove into Hadjar's back.

"Holy shit!" Tom and Dora shouted in unison.

They didn't understand how Einen could arm his Call's ape with his Spirit, but what Hadjar was doing… It went against everything they knew about the path of cultivation.

Because they were shouting, they failed to hear the words that fell from Einen's smiling lips.

"Your ancestors are calling you, my friend. It's a pity that you can't hear their furious roars."

They also failed to notice Einen's arms being covered in iridescent scales for a moment, which then disappeared in a flash of light.

Hadjar rose to his feet and held out the Black Blade. The blue hieroglyph that adorned the obsidian blade now shone with a new light, depicting a bird soaring through the air majestically.

"Black Wind," Hadjar whispered softly, and made a single swing with his sword, detonating an invisible bomb in the air.

The barrier quivered even more violently as a roar that could split the Heavens and tear the earth asunder reached it. Deep cracks spread out in all directions from the spot where Hadjar stood, greedily devouring the crumbling ruins and the Spirits that hadn't managed to jump away in time. Gusts of wind as sharp as a sword whizzed through the air, conjured by the lingering energy of the attack. Although much weaker than Anise's had been, it was far more violent.

The Black Blade came to life. There was nothing that could stop it. It was as if it had freed itself from its mortal shackles and had reached the Seventh Heavens and the Jasper Palace already.

The gigantic replica of the blade assumed the form of a dragon, the scales of which were decorated with the same patterns as the blade itself. Opening its mouth, it slammed into the Spirits with a thunderous roar, tearing apart and cutting through everything in its way. The Spirits disappeared one by one, until the Technique ran out of energy and the dragon disappeared.

Covered in blood and terrible cuts, Hadjar managed to destroy almost thirty Spirits with a single attack before he fell to the ground. A bolt of white lightning rushed along the path that he had carved in their opponents' ranks. Leaving a trail of fire in its wake, it took the form of a roaring tigress as it left their enemies far behind.

Azrea threw her burden to the ground once she was far enough from the ruins. Only Einen and Hadjar remained on her back. The latter's heartbeat had stilled.

"By the Great Turtle!" Einen exclaimed. "You stupid barbarian!"