The ocean obeyed its prince.
Walls of water rose higher than temples, crashing down around Nezha. Each wave carried force enough to crush mountains. He darted between them — the Fire Wheels leaving twin trails of flame across the storm. His ring cut through the waves like a blade through silk, turning water to steam.
Ao Bing circled, fast as a cyclone. The trident flashed again — horizontal strike, meant to break the boy in half. Nezha ducked, the sash whipping upward, wrapping around the weapon's shaft.
The red silk tightened, burned, bit deep into metal.
Ao Bing snarled, yanking, but Nezha twisted in the opposite direction.
Momentum became weapon.
Ao Bing's massive body flipped midair, smashing into his own tidal surge. The sea erupted with thunderous spray.
Nezha didn't hesitate. He dived after him, streaking red and gold through the chaos. The sash lashed forward, a whip of fire and silk, striking across the dragon's neck. Scales cracked. Steam hissed from the wound.
Ao Bing roared, pain mixing with rage.
He surged upward, jaws snapping. Teeth like swords closed inches from Nezha's head — and Nezha thrust his hand forward, summoning the Universe Ring. It expanded instantly, a halo of golden force, slamming between them. The dragon's teeth shattered sparks against it.
Nezha pushed.
The ring exploded outward, throwing Ao Bing back again.
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then the sea screamed.
Ao Bing shed his mortal guise, his body dissolving into pure storm. The sky turned black. Rain fell sideways. Lightning burned in the clouds like veins of molten glass.
Nezha hovered amid it, hair plastered to his face, chest rising fast. He felt the air hum around him, the same pulse that lived in his blood — the pulse of Heaven itself.
He didn't feel fear.
He felt alive.
"Is this all the sea has?" he shouted.
The answer came in lightning.
Ao Bing dove, the storm itself taking form — his body vast, half cloud, half serpent. The trident speared through vapor and flame, heading straight for Nezha's chest.
Nezha caught it bare-handed.
The impact drove him backward through the air, pain lancing through bone. But he didn't let go. The sash coiled up his arms, binding the weapon, burning through his palms. Blood mixed with divine fire, and for the first time, Nezha's scream joined the storm.
He twisted, using the dragon's own force to spin himself around — a move half instinct, half madness. He pulled the trident free and slammed the Universe Ring across Ao Bing's face.
The crack echoed like sky splitting open.
Ao Bing fell.
Nezha followed, trailing smoke and light.
They hit the sea together.
The water swallowed them whole, darkness crushing sound and air. Heat and pressure mingled until every heartbeat felt like thunder under skin.
Nezha struck first underwater. The sash became a current of its own, winding around Ao Bing's neck. The dragon struggled, thrashing, eyes glowing through the murk. His claws raked across Nezha's chest — blood bloomed like ink in the water.
Pain flared.
Nezha gritted his teeth.
He tightened the sash and pulled.
The silk cut through scale, through muscle, through something deeper. The dragon's body spasmed — a convulsion of light and shadow. The sea turned red.
Nezha's lungs burned. His mind screamed for air. But still, he pulled.
He didn't think of Heaven. He didn't think of right or wrong. He thought of the pond, the house by the gate, his mother's hands on his face.
No one will take that from me.
The sash flashed once more — and the dragon's neck broke.
⸻
Silence filled the ocean.
The water stilled. The light dimmed. The heat bled away.
Ao Bing's body drifted slowly, eyes open but unseeing. His blood glowed faintly in the dark — not red, but pale blue, like dying starlight.
Nezha floated beside him, chest heaving. His body trembled with exhaustion. The Fire Wheels flickered weakly beneath his feet, fighting to keep him from sinking.
He stared at the dragon's corpse — the creature's expression frozen between fury and disbelief.
And for the first time, the boy of fire felt cold.
He looked down at his hands. They were shaking. Blood mixed with divine light ran from his fingers, dissolving into the sea.
He hadn't realized he was crying until the salt burned his eyes.
Ao Bing's final words echoed faintly through the water — not spoken aloud, but remembered, or imagined.
"The sea does not forgive."
Nezha wanted to speak — to say something, anything — but his throat refused. All that came out was breath, bubbles, silence.
He had won.
And yet it didn't feel like victory.
He looked down, saw the dragon's tendons glowing faintly in the water — luminous threads of divine essence. He reached out, touched them. They pulsed weakly, alive even in death.
He could take them.
He knew he would.
But as his fingers closed around that faint light, something in him fractured. A crack, small but deep, spreading quietly through the boy who had once whispered, "I came from love."
Thank you for reading! Nezha kills Aobing but can he handle the gulit? Join me as we unravel this together
Next update: [Sunday] — Chapter III — PART III The Tide and the Flame
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— Lumina Whispers