Chapter 42: The Dragon Ridge of Wind and Thunder

The external spirit bone, known as the "Wind-Thunder Dragon Spine," did not fall after detaching from the giant python's body; instead, it hovered silently in mid-air. It was a deep, translucent indigo-purple, roughly the size of a palm, shaped like a miniature dragon's dorsal fin. Visible electric arcs rippled across its surface, as if an eternal storm were sealed within.

After releasing the spirit bone, the Deep Valley Thunder Dragon Python’s aura visibly withered for a moment, yet the gleam in its vertical pupils became strikingly more vivid. Clearly, this spirit bone had been a significant burden for the creature. Bestowing it upon Bai Chenxiang was both a gesture of gratitude and a form of liberation.

Bai He’s figure appeared beside Bai Chenxiang in a flash, like a bolt of white lightning. His eyes, fixed on the spirit bone, were a complex tapestry of intense excitement, ecstasy, shock, and a sliver of profound concern.

"An external spirit bone..." he murmured, his voice trembling. "The legendary treasure that is sought but never found, one capable of growing alongside the spirit master! Its value even exceeds that of a hundred-thousand-year spirit bone."

He turned his gaze to his granddaughter, his concern nearly overflowing. "Xiangxiang, the fusion of an external spirit bone is far more perilous than absorbing any spirit ring. It not only contains vast amounts of energy but also carries a remnant of the spirit beast’s own will. Are you certain you can handle this?"

This was not a matter he could intervene in. The fusion of a spirit bone relied entirely on the spirit master. External interference would only lead to the collapse of both the spirit bone and the master.

Bai Chenxiang did not answer. She merely reached out, and the Wind-Thunder Dragon Spine, as if drawn to her, slowly settled into her palm. It felt icy to the touch, yet tinged with the tingling sensation of electricity. Suddenly, an immensely powerful will, carrying a streak of arrogant draconic majesty, surged along her arm and crashed into her sea of consciousness!

"Boom!"

Bai Chenxiang’s body shuddered violently, her small face instantly turning deathly pale. Within her mental world, a miniature phantom of the Thunder Dragon Python, composed of wind and lightning, reared its head and roared. It attempted to use its innate draconic pressure to crush her will entirely and seize control of her body. This was the instinct of the spirit bone; it was choosing its master, but also testing them. Those with weak wills would suffer mental trauma at best, or be reduced to a mindless state at worst.

"What a domineering fellow."

A cold, sharp arc touched the corners of Bai Chenxiang’s lips. Within her sea of consciousness, no raging waves stirred. Faced with the roaring dragon shadow, her mental energy transformed into an endless, mirror-still expanse of a deep night sky. No matter how the dragon shadow charged, roared, or unleashed its violent pressure, it was like a stone cast into the sea, unable to stir the slightest ripple in that tranquil night.

A contest of will? As a modern soul possessing the mind of an adult, tempered by the era of the information explosion, her resilience was far beyond that of this "homebody snake" which had lived for a hundred thousand years, mostly spent in slumber.

She did not fight it. Instead, she slowly enveloped it with her own will—like the ocean, gently yet irresistibly wrapping around a stubborn rock.

"You want to go out and see the world, don't you?" A calm thought echoed in her sea of consciousness. The roaring dragon shadow paused. "Submit to me, and I will take you to see every corner of this world. The mountains, rivers, cities, and stars. If you remain my enemy, you will be trapped in this tiny space forever, until your energy is spent and you turn to dust. Make your choice."

There were no threats or empty promises, only two distinct paths laid clearly before it. The dragon shadow circled and struggled in the night sky, its purple pupils flickering with intense emotional turmoil. Finally, it let out a cry—unwilling, yet mingled with a hint of relief—and slowly lowered its arrogant head.

In the physical world, Bai Chenxiang’s body ceased its trembling. The Wind-Thunder Dragon Spine in her palm suddenly erupted in a brilliant radiance, then turned into a streak of light that imprinted directly onto her back.

"Ah—!"

Even with Bai Chenxiang’s firm resolve, the excruciating pain of the spirit bone merging into her flesh and connecting to her spine forced a muffled cry from her. Her clothes turned to ash instantly. The spirit bone moved like a living creature, traveling along her spine from between her shoulder blades down to her waist. It was no longer a single piece, but had transformed into eighteen delicate, blade-like indigo-purple bone spurs that fit perfectly against each of her vertebrae. When at rest, these spurs lay flat against her skin, unassuming and hidden.

Bai Chenxiang willed it.

"Hum—!"

The eighteen spurs instantly flared open, appearing like a pair of folded, terrifyingly beautiful dragon wing frames! A more powerful, more condensed aura erupted from her body. The Wind-Thunder Wings reappeared behind her. But this time, the translucent wings seemed to have found their backbone; their energy connected perfectly with the eighteen bone spurs. The wings were no longer illusory; they became solid, brimming with explosive power!

"Whoosh!"

Bai Chenxiang’s figure vanished from where she stood. This was no simple dash, nor a mere visual afterimage. She carved a series of indigo-purple trajectories through the cave, filled with sharp angles and sudden changes in direction that the eye simply could not track. It felt as if a bolt of true lightning had been imbued with life and wisdom.

Previously, while her top speed was fast, turning and stopping had been a challenge. Now, the dragon-spine spurs acted as the ultimate tail rudder and air-brake, allowing her to perform any inconceivable maneuver even at maximum speed. Sudden stops, hairpin turns, right-angle drifts...

Bai He’s mouth hung open, wide enough to swallow a duck egg. As a pure speed-type Spirit Douluo who had spent his entire life studying speed, he watched his six-year-old granddaughter darting through the cave, playing with speed and technique as if they were toys. Only one thought remained in his mind: "What on earth is this?"

His pride in his own speed felt clumsy and primitive compared to his granddaughter’s artistic flight trajectory. He felt as though his entire understanding of spirit masters had not just been dismantled and rebuilt, but blown into cosmic dust—not a single intact brick left to find.

Finally, Bai Chenxiang landed steadily before him. The fearsome bone spurs and wings retracted slowly into her body, as if they had never existed.

Bai He fell silent. He silently pulled out a wine gourd and, ignoring the giant python watching them from the side, took a long, heavy swig. The spicy liquid burned all the way to his stomach, yet it could not extinguish the raging storm in his heart.

He wiped his mouth, looked at his granddaughter’s calm little face, and spoke in a tone bordering on sleep-talking:

"Xiangxiang..."

"Yes?"

"When we get back, I’m handing the position of patriarch to you." Bai He looked utterly defeated. "I can no longer lead the Speed Clan. I think I’m better suited to watching the gate, tending to flowers, and going fishing in the back hills."

He felt his heart could no longer withstand any more shocks. It was time to retire.