C11 Dragon Transformation

Number Two had barely dodged Zhao Xiaoqi's punch when he heard an explosive bang behind him. He spun around to see a deep crater in the ground where Zhao Xiaoqi's fist had struck, the residual force having sheared the nearby trees in half.

With a sharp intake of breath, Number Two eyed Zhao Xiaoqi warily, bracing himself for the confrontation.

"He actually dodged it?" Zhao Xiaoqi's eyes narrowed in surprise before a satisfied grin spread across his face. "Not bad, at least he's somewhat competent."

Intrigued, Zhao Xiaoqi engaged Number Two in combat. Despite his modest level of cultivation that precluded flight, his sheer physical strength and the Golden Roc's lightning speed allowed him to simulate aerial combat.

With a resounding "Bam!" Zhao Xiaoqi launched himself into the sky, leaving another deep impression in the earth—a testament to his formidable power.

Number Two's face paled as Zhao Xiaoqi bore down on him, and he quickly brandished his magical weapon in defense. The two clashed fiercely, the air echoing with the sounds of their battle and the sharp hiss of torn atmosphere.

Sword light danced and flickered, occasionally catching the trees in its wake, grinding them to dust that vanished into thin air.

As the Rakshasa Sect's Number Two, his mastery of the Prajna Sword Technique was unparalleled, a challenge for any ordinary opponent.

But Zhao Xiaoqi was no ordinary man. Unversed in swordplay and lacking combat experience—his previous adversaries had fallen to a single blow—his physique was nonetheless formidable, a perfect vessel forged by Faang Hee with a top-tier treasure.

No matter how furiously Number Two's sword raged like a tempest, Zhao Xiaoqi effortlessly sidestepped each assault. When Number Two exhausted his repertoire, a single punch from Zhao Xiaoqi was enough to scatter his every move.

For the first time in his many years in the East Continent, Number Two faced a foe who could neutralize his every strike.

With a grimace, Number Two ramped up his elemental energy, pushing his speed to its peak. His Prajna Sword Technique became swifter, more relentless, and razor-sharp, the sword qi slashing through the air, threatening to cleave the very space itself.

Despite his efforts, it was futile. Zhao Xiaoqi effortlessly parried every sword strike with just his fists.

Their battle was fierce, the oppressive force they unleashed saturating the air around them.

Even though the disciples of the Grand One Holy Land were enveloped in Zhao Xiaoqi's Clouded Tree Divine Light, the overwhelming pressure left them gasping for air. Those with weaker cultivation levels found themselves bending over, some even sitting down, unable to stand.

The elders of the Grand One Holy Land were ecstatic. The sheer force emanating from the skirmish was a testament to the combatant's immense strength. They knew that if they could align themselves with such a powerhouse, their Holy Land was destined for greatness.

However, it was premature to celebrate. They had to wait for Zhao Xiaoqi to defeat the Rakshasa Sect's Number Two. Otherwise, all their hopes would be for naught.

With this in mind, the elders watched the aerial clash intently, rooting for Zhao Xiaoqi's victory.

Meanwhile, Zhao Xiaoqi was having an easy time of it. He used the fight to get accustomed to his body's strength, all while keeping an eye on the Holy Land's disciples below.

Number Two's face grew increasingly grim as the battle wore on. Despite exerting his full power, he couldn't inflict the slightest injury on Zhao Xiaoqi.

Instead, he was rapidly depleting his own Origin Energy, and his swordsmanship was losing its initial potency.

Number Two was acutely aware that their feud was a matter of life and death—either he would perish, or Zhao Xiaoqi would. Seeing Zhao Xiaoqi's casual demeanor, clearly holding back, Number Two bit down hard on his resolve, deciding he couldn't let the fight drag on.

With his decision made, Number Two sheathed his magic sword and began to channel his energy through a series of hand seals.

Zhao Xiaoqi paused his assault, curiously observing Number Two's energy manipulation. After a short while, seeing no significant change, he chose not to wait any longer and resumed his attack.

Zhao Xiaoqi sensed that Number Two had reached his limit.

He might be a somewhat formidable ant, but in the end, he was still just an ant.

He had lost all interest.

In the East Continent, it seemed impossible to find a rival capable of challenging him to unleash his full power. With a tinge of regret, Zhao Xiaoqi shook his head, resolved to conclude the fight and search for the treasure Faang Hee had concealed.

Determined, Zhao Xiaoqi tightened his fist and launched an attack at Number Two's face.

As Zhao Xiaoqi's punch neared, Number Two had just completed his hand seal. Barely dodging in time, he caught a glimpse of Zhao Xiaoqi's fist and the hill it had shattered, a close call that left him shaken. Regaining his focus, he countered, and they were once again entangled in combat.

During this new round of fighting, Zhao Xiaoqi sensed a change in Number Two.

His strikes were quicker, his strength greater. Zhao Xiaoqi, who had been disinterested and ready to end the fight, found his interest reignited. Engaging with Number Two, he exclaimed involuntarily, "Truly worthy of being among the East Continent's elite fighters—such an array of techniques!"

Number Two, hearing Zhao Xiaoqi's exclamation, seethed with anger but was powerless to respond. He intensified his onslaught, yet no matter how fiercely he attacked, he couldn't inflict any damage on Zhao Xiaoqi.

Slowly, Number Two underwent a transformation. His skin began to show exceedingly fine dragon scales, and a dark aura ebbed around him, emitting poisonous fumes, turning him into a wild beast.

It was revealed that Number Two had performed the Dragon Transformation Technique, becoming an actual venomous dragon. His breaths were now shrouded in an aura of mystique.

Zhao Xiaoqi, not a native of the East Continent, was clueless about these developments. He found Number Two's transformation bizarre, as he morphed into something neither human nor spectral. The disciples from the Holy Land, however, recognized the technique.

They knew this was Number Two's signature move, the Dragon Transformation Technique. Those unaware were quickly briefed by their seniors.

Suddenly, a sense of peril swept through the crowd, affecting even the elders who had been watching Zhao Xiaoqi with delight.

With the Dragon Transformation Technique, Number Two's abilities were not just enhanced—his poisonous fog's lethality had intensified as well.

In the entire East Continent, he was unmatched!

Despite Zhao Xiaoqi unleashing the divine light of the Clouded Tree, their lack of understanding left them hesitant to let their guard down.

The elders were fraught with worry, casting anxious glances at Zhao Xiaoqi, fearful of defeat.

Unaware of the elders' concern, Zhao Xiaoqi fought with ease. Puzzled by his opponent's behavior, he didn't dwell on it. Noticing the disciples' growing unease, he simply amplified the protective glow of the Clouded Tree around them and resumed his battle with Number Two.

Once Number Two transformed into a dragon, his power surged, intensifying the venomous fog he spewed at Zhao Xiaoqi.

Yet it was futile. The potent poison fog was effortlessly repelled by the divine light of the Clouded Tree.

Witnessing this, Number Two's eyes bulged, blood vessels threading his gaze with madness.

Meanwhile, Zhao Xiaoqi maintained his serene demeanor, observing Number Two with a curious interest, as though he were an amusing curiosity.

Pushed to the brink, Number Two tapped into his reserves, boosting his cultivation in a frenzied onslaught against Zhao Xiaoqi.