Failure 2

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Bamboo gazed toward the Golden Dragon squad.

“I just want to be a family man,” he said helplessly, drawing his sword and pressing on to challenge the Golden Dragon team.

In the chaotic battle, Chrysanthemum did not rush headlong at the Golden Dragons. Compared to the Golden Dragons’ single-minded desire to leave, Mei was the truly fearsome opponent. An impostor!

She assisted the squad, greatly reducing casualties. But this made it harder to deal with the Golden Dragons, prompting Qing to move closer to them.

Her strength was roughly equivalent to half a captain’s; challenging beyond one’s rank was dangerous. Yet Captain Chrysanthemum had her plan—at critical moments, she must shoulder the responsibility of deputy captain!

At the rear of the Golden Dragon squad was a dragon less brilliant in appearance, its scales dull gray, mane a pale ash color.

It seemed very old.

It remained calm and collected, showing no reaction even upon spotting Qing.

Qing wielded a dark, shining staff with the luster of flowing sand.

The ancient dragon was bipedal with wings; its abilities unknown, but its massive size nearly covered the squad’s tail end.

To challenge it, Qing would have to get past this dragon, but she lacked Bamboo’s agility and Mei’s effortless power.

She swung her staff once, then charged forward; this strike was merely a test.

The old dragon appeared oblivious, and Qing relaxed—only to be caught off guard by a sweeping tail strike!

She summoned all her strength to defend, but unexpectedly, the dragon’s tail passed right through her.

Before she could comprehend what had happened, Captain Lan grabbed her waist and hurried away.

“That dragon has no physical substance because something tricks the eyes. What you saw was only what it allowed you to see. The true ones hide in the shadows and rarely reveal themselves.”

An illusion?

After Bamboo slew several Golden Dragons, he couldn’t help but pause.

These creatures barely had half the strength of the Azure Dragon before the palace.

He was already far from the pit, but a sense of foreboding rose within him.

From the four o’clock underground direction, four kilometers below, a flood dragon emerged, shedding dirt clumps as it raised its head and soared toward the sky, heading for the city.

Bamboo dared not act rashly, wary of a trap.

As the first dragon took flight, another dragon pit appeared three kilometers away at six o’clock.

Peripheral guards began to fight, yet the Dragon God still had not appeared.

Mei hovered high above, surveying the land below. Even she could not be certain.

Bamboo seized a round dragon token from a young dragon’s neck, only to find it was an empty shell. When removed, the Golden Dragon squad shifted into an ordinary team of flood dragons and feathered serpents.

Three exits— which one was the true path?

“Chrysanthemum will guard here; Lan goes to six o’clock; Bamboo to four o’clock,” Winter Quiet Wild issued the battle plan.

“All firepower to suppress them; they must not escape.” Despite this, gaps formed in the encirclement.

They advanced northwest, the thunderclouds moving with them.

“Still no appearance?” Mei watched the surging storm clouds, hesitating briefly before deciding to take a risk.

She let herself fall into the dragon pit below.

“Crunch.” A giant maw clamped onto her waist.

“Captain Mei!” Qing couldn’t help but follow down into the pit.

Chrysanthemum looked on indifferently, wiping blood from her soft sword, which seemed freshly drawn.

She leapt down into the pit.

Mei mechanically twisted her upper body, looking up to see a platinum dragon. This one was genuine.

The Golden Dragon bit down hard, refusing to release Mei. She was powerless against it and pressed deeper into the pit.

Among the broken tiles and shattered rafters of ruined buildings, a young dragon turned around. Adorned with golden jade treasures, it resembled a qilin.

“Long time no see,” came a soft voice, its small nose exhaling moist air.

“I’m leaving now.” It spoke and stepped onto auspicious clouds, rushing toward the earth hole, its form growing faint.

Was this illusion deliberately left for her?

“A bit unexpected.”

Mei’s nails grew long, her crimson eyes fiercely fixed on the empty space. Behind her stood a golden dragon with a dozen sharp horns resembling antelope horns—a quadrupedal Mushussu dragon.

Before the ancient creatures revived, it existed only in books and ruins. Of course, in books, human-shaped gods were more popular; dragons were mere symbols—a mount.

People had long forgotten the majesty of the ancient gods, basking in the glory of the food chain’s apex.

Now, they had awakened, reclaiming their dominion and subjugating their slaves.

The Mushussu combined lion’s forepaws, eagle talons as hind paws, and a scorpion-like tail tipped with venom.

Mei summoned her weapon: the Assyrian scepter.

Its form was the tip of a sharp sword, adorned with decorations. It was not truly a weapon but a symbol of authority. Mei liked this flashy but impractical item and fought with it regardless.

At best, it was something she could wildly wield.

The historical Mushussu came from the same background—the ancient Babylonian era.

Mei had learned about the Assyrian Empire and Neo-Babylonian Kingdom while passing through the Ishtar Gate, even questioning the depiction of Mushussu on the walls.

But Qing’s gaze changed, as if recalling something. Mei’s weapon was like this? In her memory, Mei wielded a large red sword. Had she switched weapons?

Chrysanthemum lurked coldly at a distance, recalling Mei’s discussion about Babylonian history.

“Lately, I’ve taken an interest in Babylonian history. Ancient Babylon endured many wars before falling to the Persian Empire. But the Ishtar Gate, built by Nebuchadnezzar II of Neo-Babylon in 575 BCE, was already under Persian rule by 539 BCE, becoming the capital of the Persian Empire. Most people consider the gate as a symbol of Babylonian civilization.”

“Since the city was occupied during construction and later promoted by Persia’s influence… could it be seen as shared heritage?”

Chrysanthemum didn’t ponder such trivial questions and answered casually.

“Either way, it’s a shared human civilization, a treasure of the world.”

“That’s quite an interesting answer,” Mei said enthusiastically.

“No matter where it comes from, we are all kin. Without wars, with peaceful coexistence, there’d be no question of ownership. We are one.”

“How beautiful that would be,” Chrysanthemum sighed.

The Assyrian scepter struck fiercely, forcing the Mushussu to release its grip.

“Captain Mei!” Qing rushed forward to catch her and retreated to the side.

“Oh, it’s you,” Mei said irritably, rubbing her head.

“Thanks…and for the harsh words before. Hope you forgive me.” Mei looked even more annoyed.

Qing smiled.

“Captain Mei.”

The Mushussu raised a forepaw, lunging toward them.

“Bang!” Mei struck the furry left lion paw, swinging it away to an empty space. The ground cracked under the force.

Chrysanthemum observed Mei’s state—was brute strength all she had?

Excitement gleamed in her eyes; this was a good chance to kill.

“Bang!” Mei clashed again with the Mushussu.

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Qing took the opportunity to strike the Mushussu’s tail. The tail stopped curling and began to spread, trying to catch her, but whenever it aimed, Mei would strike it on the head, leaving the beast dizzy after several blows.

A green glow flickered as the Mushussu’s horn tip gathered a ball of green energy.

Mei felt utterly exhausted after repeated exertions.

She decided to change form.

Chrysanthemum watched as she slowly grew larger, shifting between human and beast forms.

It appeared.

A hybrid beast-human monster emerged.

“Abomination,” the Mushussu said heavily, like a cloud hanging overhead.

“The Child of Arrogance arrives,” Mei—or rather, the Child of Arrogance.

Qing was incredulous. Captain Mei was an ancient creature, even of divine rank? What on earth was going on?

“Qing, as you see, Mei has been swallowed by it,” Chrysanthemum stood beside her.

“How could that be?” Qing refused to believe it.

“By her own choice!” Mei’s face appeared between the Child of Arrogance’s neck, suddenly speaking in an eerie, abrupt manner.

“For you, she gave up herself…” Chrysanthemum’s face twisted with struggle. This was Mei’s will; she had no right to intervene. But why? Why!!!

“I won’t allow it!” Chrysanthemum’s expression was fierce, as if she wanted to tear her apart. But they were not alone—an ancient god was present.

“Your predicament remains the same.”

The Mushussu’s words pierced the Child of Arrogance deeply. No, no—I am humanity’s dawn, Mei’s beloved daughter. I’m not an abomination; I deserve acceptance, kindness…

The space around it stilled as it used its signature spatial fall.

Time stopped; it kicked forward like a calf struggling, its steps heavy and slow. Facing the Golden Dragons, it found the fight difficult.

The Mushussu felt discomfort throughout its body but its surrounding space remained unchanged. Acting instinctively, it used the green energy ball to push away the surrounding air.

At that moment, it suddenly realized the Child of Arrogance was also repelled.

“A sneak attack?” The Mushussu was caught unaware, nearly having its throat bitten through.

“Not so easy after all,” Mei adjusted her stance.

“Mom left you a final message she never intended to give you,” Mei said, pouting a bit.

“As long as you help me distract it, once I kill it, I’ll give you the recording.”

Was this negotiation?

Chrysanthemum almost laughed in disbelief.

“By you?”

“That’s a pity; no one wants to hear her final words,” Mei sneered.

“Deal,” Chrysanthemum sneered back in anger.

“Just you wait.”

The battle began.

Qing had no choice but to clear her mind and join the fight.

The Mushussu was troubled.

“What a nuisance,” it braced against the three of them.

Chrysanthemum did not know the Mushussu’s full powers but it did not stop her from attacking.

Her soft sword bent, her figure shifting. When she leapt, it seemed to linger in midair slowly, creating multiple illusions.

The Mushussu guarded against Mei, curling its tail to block and launching attacks at her.

Chrysanthemum’s image scattered like falling pear blossoms, spinning in the air, making it impossible to discern her true position.

“Clang!” The sword was parried. The Mushussu’s tail swept across, finding nothing but air.

The confusing trajectory remained in the air.

Perhaps she was inside it, or perhaps not.

Mei caught one of its claws. The Mushussu’s horn charged up, radiating electric light.

Mei’s forelimb touched it, sizzling under the fiery heat.

“Yah!” It forcefully pushed the claw away. The Mushussu twisted its neck sharply, raking Mei’s throat with a sharp horn.

Blood poured down. Mei’s eyes grew fierce as she crawled forward, leapt suddenly, but the Mushussu’s tail hooked up, its head spinning quickly. The horn targeted Mei’s descending form. The beast’s full focus on Mei seemed to ignore the other two completely.

“Clang clang.” Chrysanthemum landed some distance away with closed eyes. The Mushussu’s prized horns struck the ground too fast for it to react.

Qing was ready, pressing her staff against the tail, pushing it to the ground.

Mei pounced directly on the Mushussu, which hurriedly braced with forepaws, clawing into Mei’s hind leg with sharp nails.

Mei seemed unfazed by the pain. The Mushussu saw no reaction, assuming she had entered another dimension.

Its vital points exposed in the air made it uneasy. It frantically attacked Mei’s true body.

Flesh tore and scattered with a foul stench. Chrysanthemum bent her soft sword again, hesitating as she looked at Mei’s face.

Qing struggled to control the wildly thrashing tail and had to retreat to the side.

Inside the other dimension, Mei felt waves of pain—sometimes numb, sometimes sharp and continuous.

Yet she furiously bit into the Mushussu’s vulnerable belly, strike after strike.

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