The Author's Draft-Chapter 65: Moon Devouring Heavenly Wolf II

Long Chen pushed it down ruthlessly. Anger was a distraction he couldn’t afford right now.

The wolf was the immediate threat, the man could wait.

He engaged with everything he had. Heavenrend to create openings, Void-Splitting Strike to exploit them and Sword Aura reinforcing every movement. He even attempted spatial compression on his faster attacks, trying to close distance before the wolf could react.

But the wolf was learning, adapting. Its dodges became more precise, its counterattacks more targeted.

The beast was wearing him down deliberately, like a wolf pack exhausting prey before the final kill.

*This beast is stronger than it should be, isn’t it?* Azazel said suddenly, breaking his usual silence during combat.

"What—do you—mean—" Long Chen gasped between exchanges, blocking a bite aimed at his throat. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

The wolf lunged again. Long Chen brought Demon Dweller up to meet it. Their forces collided—fangs against blade, both pushing with maximum strength.

They locked there, straining against each other. The wolf’s breath was hot against Long Chen’s face, reeking of blood and spiritual energy. Its fangs were inches from his eyes, pushing closer with every second.

Long Chen’s arms trembled with effort. His injured ribs screamed in protest, blood dripped from his wounds onto the stone floor beneath them.

Hearing nothing from Azazel was starting to piss him off.

"What!?" Long Chen snarled, still pushing back against the wolf’s crushing bite force.

*Long Chen, you’re not fighting a normal demon wolf. That thing has a sage-rank bloodline.*

The words hit Long Chen like a hammer.

"Sage-rank!?"

*It’s a Moon Devouring Heavenly Wolf. Not bad and its bloodline is pure too.* Azazel said the amusement still present

Long Chen’s blood ran cold even as he continued pushing against the wolf’s strength.

*Beasts with sage-rank bloodlines have inherited techniques from their ancestors. Bloodline abilities passed down through generations, refined over millennia. Techniques that normal cultivation can’t replicate or defend against easily.*

The wolf suddenly released its pressure against Long Chen’s blade.

Long Chen stumbled forward half a step, his balance disrupted—

The wolf sprang backward in the same instant, creating a gap of ten meters between them.

Then it began to change.

Light erupted from the wolf’s body—brilliant silver radiance that filled the chamber, so bright Long Chen had to squint. The spiritual energy in the air grew denser, heavier. The wolf’s form became indistinct, shrouded in luminescence.

*No,* Azazel breathed. *It’s activating its bloodline technique. Long Chen, you need to—*

The light faded.

The wolf stood transformed.

It was smaller now—dramatically smaller. No longer the massive four-meter beast but compact and lean, roughly the same size as Long Chen himself. Its muscles were sleeker, built for speed rather than power. Its frame looked almost elegant, like a blade designed for quick, lethal strikes.

But its eyes burned brighter than before, blazing with crimson fire. And the spiritual pressure radiating from its body had somehow intensified despite the size reduction—sharper, more concentrated, like all its power had been compressed into a smaller package.

*That’s Moonlight Transformation,* Azazel said grimly. *The wolf exchanges raw physical strength for exponential speed. In this form, it can move fast enough that even Core Formation cultivators struggle to track it. And you...*

The wolf blurred.

Long Chen’s eyes widened. He couldn’t see where it—

Pain exploded across his chest.

Four parallel gashes opened from his left shoulder down to his right hip. The cuts were deep, carving through his robes and into his enhanced flesh like it was butter. Blood sprayed across the chamber floor.

Long Chen gasped and spun, bringing Demon Dweller around in a defensive arc—

The wolf was already behind him.

He felt fangs sink into his right shoulder before he even registered the movement. The teeth clamped down hard, grinding against his collarbone. He could feel them scraping bone, looking for purchase to tear the joint apart.

Long Chen roared and channeled his Sword Aura explosively.

Cutting force erupted from his body in all directions—a defensive technique that turned his skin into a field of blades. The Sword Aura radiated outward violently, slicing at anything within half a meter.

The wolf released him immediately and darted away. But not before Long Chen’s explosive aura opened a shallow cut along its muzzle.

They separated, both breathing heavily.

Long Chen could barely see the wolf now. Every time he locked onto its position, it was already somewhere else—circling, feinting, darting in and out of his perception range. The transformed beast moved like liquid shadow, like trying to catch moonlight.

His injuries were mounting critically. The gashes across his chest were deep enough that he could see muscle beneath. His right shoulder throbbed where fangs had punctured it and his left arm was still barely functional. Blood loss was becoming a serious problem—he could feel his body growing colder, his movements sluggish.

’I can’t win like this, it’s too fast. I can’t even track it properly, much less hit it.’

Long Chen’s mind raced through his options desperately.

Heavenrend? No, the technique took too long to execute, and the wolf would just dodge while he was charging it.

Void-Splitting Strike? Same problem. The thrust was fast, but not fast enough to catch something moving at this speed.

Spatial compression? He could only compress about forty percent of distance, and the wolf moved so fast that even compressed space couldn’t bridge the gap.

He needed something that affected the entire battlefield. Something the wolf couldn’t outrun through speed alone.

His eyes widened as realization struck.

’Dragon pressure. Area-wide suppression. It can’t dodge something that fills the whole space.’

Long Chen made his decision.

He reached deep into his consciousness and called on his martial spirit.

"Tian Long!"

Power answered immediately.

The massive form of the Dragon Emperor materialized in the space above Long Chen—ethereal, majestic, radiating ancient authority. Its scales gleamed like sapphires, each one the size of a shield. Its eyes burned with golden fire that illuminated the entire chamber. The dragon’s body stretched twenty meters long as it coiled through the air, serpentine and graceful.

And with its appearance came pressure.

Dragon Pressure.

It descended on the chamber like a mountain falling from the sky—not physical weight, but spiritual dominance. The pressure of an apex predator, a bloodline that stood at the pinnacle of the cultivation world’s hierarchy. A presence that demanded submission from all lesser creatures on an instinctual level.

The air itself seemed to grow heavier, thicker, harder to move through.

The Moon Devouring Heavenly Wolf, mid-lunge toward Long Chen’s exposed flank, suddenly faltered.

Its speed dropped.

Not completely—it didn’t freeze like the lycans back in the Whitechapel dungeon break. A sage-rank bloodline was too powerful to be completely suppressed by dragon pressure alone. But the wolf’s movements became noticeably slower, like it was moving through water instead of air.

The dragon pressure pressed down on its bloodline directly, forcing instinctive submission. Every cell in the wolf’s body recognized what Tian Long represented—the apex of bloodline power. Even a sage-rank beast had to acknowledge that hierarchy.

And that momentary reduction in speed was the opening Long Chen needed.

His body blurred forward.

Phantom Step carried him across the distance in an instant. His injured state no longer mattered—he was operating on pure combat instinct now, every ounce of his remaining energy focused on this single strike.

Demon Dweller swept up in a perfect vertical arc.

The blade moved with everything Long Chen had—Foundation Establishment cultivation, third-stage Sword Aura, spatial compression reducing distance by forty percent, all combined into one devastating attack.

The wolf saw it coming and tried to dodge.

But the dragon pressure slowed its reaction by crucial fractions of a second.

Demon Dweller caught the beast mid-air.

The cursed blade bit deep into the wolf’s chest, carving through fur, flesh, muscle. Long Chen felt the resistance as his sword cut through ribs, then the sudden give as it found the heart.

The wolf’s eyes went wide with shock and pain.

Blood poured from its mouth, hot and thick. A gurgling sound escaped its throat.

It tried to pull away, to escape—

Long Chen held on with his good arm, driving the blade deeper. He channeled more Sword Aura into the weapon, sending cutting force directly into the wolf’s internal organs. The blade sank all the way to the hilt.

The wolf’s struggles weakened, its limbs twitched and the crimson light in its eyes began to fade.

Then it went still.

Long Chen pulled Demon Dweller free with a wet sound. Blood covered the blade, dripping onto the floor.

The wolf’s body slumped and began to dissolve—

But before it could disappear completely, Long Chen’s body suddenly seized.

The Blood Tyrant Devouring Art activated automatically, responding to the presence of beast blood.

Red lines flared to life across Long Chen’s skin—the channels opening wide, glowing so brightly they were visible through his torn robes. The pathways that had been carved into his flesh during the technique’s establishment suddenly pulsed with power.

The wolf’s blood essence began flowing into Long Chen.

Not just flowing—flooding.

The essence poured through every point of contact, through the air itself, drawn by the Art’s insatiable hunger. It rushed into Long Chen’s opened pores, surged through his body like a broken dam damaging his body further.

*You better try and contain all that energy if you don’t want to explode.* Azazel chimed in as Long Chen was beginning to panic. *Store the energy in your flesh and bones to be refined later.*