Volume 11 Chapter 89 Pangu Created the World. Creation like Destruction. (Part 3)

The only breeze in the underground palace came from the flapping wings. The only sounds were the crackling flames and flapping wings.

Notwithstanding the number of people who researched the dragon’s nine sons, they never discovered that each of Pangu’s descendants inherited some of its special abilities.They hyper focused on the nine’s ferocity while overlooking the threat of the one that possessed all the abilities.

This time, Pangu didn’t announce its victory whilst aerial because it knew this wasn’t the sensation of masticating human flesh.

“Huh, getting bitten by a dragon doesn’t really hurt?”

Following a burning sensation in his mouth, Pangu felt its mouth forced open by human hands. Though his clothes were in tatters and hair was splayed, Ming Feizhen didn’t have any blood on him. When Pangu tried to force his fangs back down, Ming Feizhen had zipped out.

Ming Feizhen should’ve been in dire straits in the air this time since Pangu could now fly, yet panic was the last thing he’d feel. That said, the redness in his eyes was more visible than before.

“Demon King Thread - Vacate.”

Pangu smashed its jaw onto the ground, yet he raged at the heavens after because the young man at the crater he just made wasn’t there. Dragons perceived what humans considered fast to be slow motion on top of possessing x-ray vision, yet Pangu lost sight of Ming Feizhen with the last attack. Although Pangu wasn’t the fastest among Six Evils, the phoenix could never escape Pangu’s sights.

For the first time in a long while, Pangu was bewildered. The only way to explain the phenomenon was Ming Feizhen stole a chunk of time out of real time. To put it another way, it was as if he froze time, moved away and then deleted the part where time was frozen. The suspicion was vexing for Pangu for it was interpreted as a challenge to its majestic existence, not from some arrogant mortal or brainless warrior but an equal.

Pangu stretched out its wings, firing omnidirectional lightning blasts as it expanded its Enlightenment field, devastating everything in its path. The shockwaves literally turned walls on their head.

“Given you gave birth to nine sons, you must possess nine special abilities.” Ming Feizhen finally showed himself of his own volition.

If Enlightenment wasn’t included, Pangu had shown seven unique abilities: wind, fire, lightning, flight, x-ray vision, might on rivalling Ten Mountains and Oceans, in addition to a healing ability that the Fengpeng boasted. Frankly, even if Pangu didn’t reveal its last two special abilities, Ming Feizhen still wouldn’t have an answer.

It had been years since the last time Ming Feizhen felt as though he was sinking into a marsh. Nobody could employ a protracted fighting strategy better than Ming Feizhen for the reason he possessed immense internal energy, as well as pinpoint accuracy when controlling his true qi and breathing, thanks to Yijin Jing and Tai Chi’s mental cultivation, respectively. This held true even if he were to spam “ultimate” techniques consecutively. Howbeit, to work around Pangu’s attacks that had a large area of effect, he had no choice but to forge a solid true qi armour; consider how much internal energy would be needed to stop Pangu’s fangs from tearing in. Just as with physical armour, he couldn’t just strip off his armour in the middle of an ongoing fight.

Ming Feizhen lifted Forgiveness onto his shoulder. “Damn, looks like I don’t have any alternatives.”

Feng Xue wasn’t as fast or strong as the little demon on a murder spree a decade ago. His body was frailer than the boy who received a boost from a Fengpeng’s energy. The only thing he had more was age. He, nonetheless, could punch hard, hard enough to lay the demon out for good.

The take-home message from that fight was that running was for cowards as no one could outrun their fears. Don’t indulge. Don’t be soft. Don’t live as though you’re a vengeful fugitive on the run. Ming Feizhen hated hearing Feng Xue preach as much as he hated the punches that landed on his face and dug into his body, but he listened until the end.

While Ming Feizhen curled up to sleep on the ground no differently to a child who made a mistake, Feng Xue was less an arm, yet he didn’t bat an eye. He made sure the boy was safe, then bandaged his own arm socket, wiped his blood and off he went. “He’s just a kid throwing a tantrum like every other kid,” Feng Xue said to Ming Huayu. Ever since then, Ming Feizhen never indulged in the Fengpeng’s power regardless of the circumstances.

Ming Feizhen set Forgiveness down. “Sorry, Young Shiyi, but I’m going to have to disobey you again.”

Ming Feizhen raised his wrist up to his mouth and bit it. It was the only way he was going to bleed when Pangu couldn’t penetrate his true qi armour.

Unsettled, Pangu judged a pre-emptive strike was in order, zooming over with lightning at the ready. Sensing Pangu’s rapid movements closing in, Ming Feizhen extended an arm.

Boom! Winds strong enough to blow apart an army’s formation pervaded the underground palace in an instant. Pangu charged without enough force to plough through a city, yet it ran into a wall it couldn’t move - Ming Feizhen’s hand. It might not have understood humankind’s language, but it understood strength.

“What’s the rush? Warm-up’s over.”