The northern humidity had grown heavier.
To most, it would seem no different than a change in weather—
but the white-haired yaksha, whose nerves were stretched as tight as bowstrings,
smelled danger in the air.
Trusting his intuition, Snow Kui went to Morax for a second opinion.
Morax was surprised.
"You feel it as well? …Indeed, something is amiss.
I had intended to investigate myself.
But since you've come, I'll leave it to you."
So—he wasn't refusing to stay in the city.
He truly had something to do.
Terraced cliffs rose layer by layer,
their slopes hidden beneath thick, rolling mist.
Snow Kui followed the roaring mountain stream upward.
Earlier from the sky, he saw the mountain's strange staircase-like ridges.
Now, with moisture weighing down his wings, he chose to continue on foot.
Guizhong's domain had remained unbothered by monsters for years.
There was reason for that.
And while Snow Kui pursued strength,
he also quietly hunted down every hidden threat—
one by one—
so no one else would suffer.
The sky was no longer merely overcast.
Black clouds hung low and heavy,
smothering the mountains in early darkness.
Snow Kui's eyes, once dull and lifeless, sharpened like honed blades.
Water-aspected energy swelled in the air—
thick, heavy, unending.
Only a fool would believe this was natural rainfall.
Or someone weak enough to force themselves to believe a lie
because the truth terrified them.
Snow Kui was neither fool nor weak.
Rain began to fall.
He tilted his head back, gray-blue eyes reflecting the water-laden sky.
Water essence continued to gather without dispersing—
thick enough to push away all other elements.
If this continued…
The mountain streams would overflow,
flooding downward into the plains.
And in those plains—
Guizhong's city.
Stone walls could withstand floodwaters.
People could not.
A migration was possible in theory,
but not with the speed needed to outrun a wave like this.
Snow Kui remembered Stone-Dust's voice telling him
how precious and fragile a safe haven was.
Migration was not an option.
Humans had only one path.
But humans with a yaksha?
Many.
He considered freezing the entire storm,
but here the water aspect suffocated all others.
With almost no Cryo element to draw upon,
even he couldn't freeze a sky already saturated with "Law."
Even someone with Morax's sheer elemental reserves
couldn't force the world to freeze like this.
Only one solution remained:
Find the source.
Kill it.
Rain was cold.
But ice was colder.
Just like the killing intent simmering behind Snow Kui's calm expression.
At last he reached the summit.
The cliff ended in a sheer drop into a raging pool below.
Snow Kui narrowed his eyes.
The life force beneath the surface was enormous—
vigorous, ancient.
Something of that magnitude could only be—
A creature born from pure elemental energy.
Behind him, the air shifted.
A massive dark shape surged up from below,
its shadow blotting out what little light remained.
Twin, amber pupils—
each the size of his entire torso—
glowed in the gloom.
Snow Kui's grip tightened.
Ice and metal screamed as he braced his spear against the impact.
He was knocked off the cliff, free-falling,
but with the creature so close,
he finally saw it clearly.
A long, serpentine body.
Deep ocean-blue scales.
Antler-like horns branching elegantly from its skull,
and between them—
a single sharp horn like a spear.
A dragon.
Not a lizard, not a beast—
a dragon.
And from its facial shape and crest,
Snow Kui finally understood
where Morax had modeled his own dragon-form from.
The dragon hovered at the water's surface,
watching him.
Snow Kui slipped through the rain using his wings as rudders,
arcing upward to hover in mid-air.
Why wasn't the dragon attacking?
No time to wonder.
A memory flickered—
Guizhong's disappointed eyes.
Snow Kui tightened his hold on his spear.
End it quickly.
He folded his wings, diving straight down.
The dragon moved like water—fluid, boneless.
Despite its massive size, it twisted away with serpentine elegance,
dodging every thrust.
For a heartbeat Snow Kui lost track—
unbelievable, with something so large.
The dragon surged upward again.
Snow Kui pointed two fingers.
"Freeze."
Time stuttered.
The dragon's head froze mid-strike,
an ice sculpture carved from stormwater.
Snow Kui's wings beat once, propelling him toward its eye.
A thin membrane protected it—
but against his spear, it was nothing.
Then—
The moisture around him thickened.
The air became water.
Breathing became drowning.
The dragon's body trembled—
not in pain,
but in effort.
Elemental power surged.
Not skill.
Not finesse.
Overwhelming quantity.
For one moment, Snow Kui saw something familiar:
—Rex Lapis, when he simply forced the world to bend.
The spear should have pierced.
But a sudden heaviness crushed down on Snow Kui—
his wings drenched, slowed, weighted with water.
Water that carried Law.
He had stepped into its domain.
Rain is my body.
In every drop, I am present.
Snow Kui's pupils shrank.
"Tch—! I walked right into it!"
The rain swallowed his speed.
His wings forced out only one labored beat.
Water slid down the ice feathers,
each droplet falling as heavy as stone.
Then—
B O O M
The dragon's head slammed into him.
The world flipped.
Snow Kui's body hit the surface of the lake and plunged beneath.
The water closed over him,
cold and heavy and endless.
The dragon forced him into its world—
its battlefield—
its hunting ground.
And in that moment,
Snow Kui finally understood:
This dragon was not merely controlling water.
It was water.
Advance Chapters available on P@treon
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