"I've seen you in our genealogy!" Xia Jingning blurted out.
Zhao Shuning barely registered him. Her mind was still racing, trying to figure out a way to deal with the unknown monster before them.
This thing — it felt like the level of a divine beast.
"You have another name, don't you?" Xia Jingning pressed.
Zhao Shuning didn't answer.
"You—Luo Feiyan. You also go by Luo Feiyan. Zhao Shuning is the name you never use."
The familiar name snagged her attention. Zhao Shuning's concentration wavered.
"How do you know that?" she snapped. Had she ever let "Zhao Shuning" slip when she was Luo Feiyan?
Xia Jingning grew excited. "You're on the first page of our family genealogy. Your rank is even above my ancestor, the Huiyuan Emperor."
"Ridiculous! By birth order, Xia Qingyan should be my elder brother," she retorted.
"Then you are the Ancestor! You really are the Ancestor!"
Zhao Shuning's quick reply only confirmed Xia Jingning's suspicion. The woman standing before him truly matched the first name at the top of their clan records. Every descendant of the Xia family had heard of Luo Feiyan — they said that without her, the Xia line might never have existed. With a single person’s might she had altered the fate of the entire Hailing Kingdom. She was the first entry in the genealogy, the one who came before even their revered forebears. When the ancestor died, he had trembled as he added a single large "Ning" after Luo Feiyan's name and left behind an edict.
Xia Jingning was clever and deeply reverent of the Huiyuan Emperor. He had scavenged old storybooks the emperor favored and had found the name Zhao Shuning in one of them. When he boasted earlier that he had known the name since childhood, it had been a ploy to draw her out. He hadn't expected that his bluff would terrify him instead.
"Ancestor!" he cried again.
Zhao Shuning involuntarily shivered. Please—be called that and I might age ten years on the spot. Which young woman would want to be addressed like that? But Xia Jingning didn't care. Compared to the Huiyuan Emperor or Xia Qingyan, he had always held the first strange, non-Xia ancestor in the highest esteem. He'd long wondered what power such a woman had possessed to be worshiped by the whole kingdom. Even now he didn't fully understand, but the image of Zhao Shuning in his mind had grown in stature by leaps.
She let out an exasperated breath. Keep sighing like that and I'll really become your "Ancestor," she thought. Xia Jingning's expression even hinted at kneeling. She forced herself to say, "Don't bother with those empty formalities. In this situation, I don't want your ceremony."
"Ancestor—"
"Fine, fine." She hadn’t finished when the air over the cliffline slammed into them like a physical thing.
The protective dome above their heads began to crack and sing like breaking glass. From the cliff itself a huge dragon head slithered into view, and a single glance was enough to freeze the blood.
The dragon's skull was enormous, ice-blue in color. Long, wispy whiskers trembled in the surge of spiritual energy; it wore its fury like a mask. The eyes held nothing but contempt for all living things. Two massive, horn-like protrusions jutted rigidly from its crown.
Zhao Shuning, though she'd had her suspicions, couldn't help being startled aloud. "W-what kind of creature is that—?"
"Never seen it in any history record," someone muttered.
"Senior, what is that thing?" another demanded.
She drew a breath. How could it be this?
"Ancestor?" Xia Jingning's voice tightened.
"This is—" someone at the back, a cultivator who recognized ancient beasts, swallowed and said, "one of the ancient ferocious beasts. The Ice-Armored Horned Demon Dragon — ranked second among ancient predators."
Ancient ferocious beast. Second-ranked. Its body was armored in ice so tough it might as well be plated steel; its horns crackled with dark magic. In cold wastelands it was infamous; it brought ruin wherever it roamed. No wonder Zhao Shuning had felt a chill even in the heat by the cliff before — she had failed to take precautions.
"How could an Ice-Armored Horned Demon Dragon end up here?" another voice whispered. "Creatures of that rank belong in the demonic realm or the world's oldest wastelands. I thought it was sealed away centuries ago when the Emperor suppressed it."
"It was said to have been sealed in the sea that connects to the Wuyi Mountains… and now it's here."
"What do we do? Are we all going to die on this cliff?"
Zhao Shuning's face tightened. She had thought at first this might be a god-beast—fierce, yes, but with some measure of sentience you could reason with. As an eighth-rank alchemist she could sometimes parley with less savage divine beasts. But an ancient ferocious beast was something else entirely: bloodthirsty, cruel, and utterly incapable of negotiation.
"Ancestor?" Xia Jingning looked to her anxiously, hoping for a rallying word.
"Prepare to die," someone mumbled as hopelessness spread.
The men behind them looked pale. "Senior, you have to save us!"
This was bad. Really bad. If she failed here, she would be the one falling.
They stared at Zhao Shuning like supplicants. She rolled her shoulders and gave a wry, tired smile.
"Look at me like that?" she said. "The Ice-Armored Horned Demon Dragon is incredibly powerful, but it's still a bit weaker than the Crimson-Flame Golden Ni Beast."
A collective gasp, a flicker of hope — until she added, "That said, I couldn't beat the Crimson-Flame Golden Ni Beast either."
Silence, then shaky voices: "So… what about this one?"
Zhao Shuning spread her hands helplessly. "I can't beat this one either."
The words dropped like a stone into the gathered panic.