Chapter Eleven: The Dragon! So Ugly! Stop Following Me!

With a thunderous crash, the colossal dragon landed, its massive body sinking deep into the earth to form a small basin. It lay sprawled across the ground, scales shattered in great patches, golden blood seeping from its wounds. Each breath was labored, nostrils flaring, and its once brilliant eyes now dulled—a clear sign of grievous injury.

Leng Tian walked to the edge of the crater, sat heavily on the ground, and gasped for air, his gaze fixed on the trembling dragon. A smile tugged at his lips.

Suddenly, from his chest, a violet light flickered. His mind went blank, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

A streak of violet shot out, lightning-fast, circling above the approaching Huowu and her companions, enveloping them in an ethereal glow before transforming again and plunging into the dragon’s mind.

The three stood frozen, their movements halted as though their souls had been snatched away.

Within the dragon’s mind, a forceful, heaven-shaking dragon aura surged. A dignified woman’s voice resounded: “Listen well, little one. From this moment, you belong to this young man as his follower—never to betray him for the rest of your life. Do you understand?”

The dragon’s formidable consciousness now seemed as fragile as a leaf in a storm, on the verge of being torn asunder. Only in its clan’s sacred grounds had it felt such a presence—the aura of a divine dragon. Yet compared to this, the difference was as vast as heaven and earth.

“You are a divine dragon, my lord! You still exist in this world!” The dragon’s mind trembled, awed and exhilarated.

“I am no mere divine dragon. I am the great ancestor dragon. Divine dragons... ha, they are but my descendants! Remember what I said, little one. I shall bestow upon you a blood pact.” As she spoke, a droplet of pure golden blood appeared in the dragon’s mind, twisting and morphing into an ancient sigil. With a flash of gold, it branded itself deep into the dragon’s soul.

“All right. Remember my words. Stay by his side and blessings will surely come to you. If you prove yourself worthy, I may grant you the chance to transform into a true sacred dragon. And never speak of my existence—heed this well...” As the voice faded, it became a violet light and returned to Leng Tian’s body, vanishing from sight.

Huowu and her companions returned to normal, showing no discomfort—just as if nothing had happened—continuing to run toward Leng Tian.

He opened his eyes. “What happened?” Leng Tian was bewildered by his sudden fainting. “Master, you’re awake,” came a voice. He was startled; looking about, he saw no one. “No need to look, master—I am here!”

Then Leng Tian realized the voice came from within his mind. “Who are you? Where are you?”

The dragon let out a howl, its massive head turning to gaze at Leng Tian, reverence shining in its eyes. Leng Tian was astonished. Could it be...?

“Master, it’s me. I’m not just some creature. My name is Max. You may call me Max.”

“When did I become its master?” Leng Tian wondered.

Yet he felt a strange connection in his mind—a mysterious bond, elusive yet undeniably present, as if he and the dragon called Max were tightly linked.

“Brother Leng, are you all right?” Huowu rushed to his side, tugging at his sleeve, concern written across her face, her eyes scanning him up and down as though a worried wife tending her husband.

“Are you all right, Brother Leng?” Yanlong and Xiao Han also asked with genuine concern.

“Ha... I’m fine,” Leng Tian replied, his gaze lingering on Max the dragon as he strode toward it.

The three followed. Now, Leng Tian was someone they could only look up to, especially Huowu—her heart had etched his bold, domineering image indelibly.

Standing before Max, Leng Tian was still baffled. How had a mere beating transformed him into the dragon’s master? He’d never had a spirit beast, but he knew such bonds were formed by contracts, though the precise mechanics were beyond him.

“Big guy, can you tell me what happened?” Leng Tian sought answers from Max.

“Master, I don’t know either. Somehow, a blood pact was made between us. From now on, I am your servant, bound never to betray you in this life, my respected master.” The dragon lowered its enormous head, gently nuzzling Leng Tian’s side.

“But you’re too ugly. Following me would be embarrassing!” Leng Tian voiced his true thoughts. To him, the dragon still looked like an oversized lizard, nothing like the noble dragons he’d imagined.

“Why, master? I am a true dragon! Where am I ugly?” Max, stripped of all dragonly dignity, now seemed like a child, hurt and aggrieved.

“Because you’re too ugly, you can’t follow me.”

“Brother Leng, who are you talking to? What’s too ugly?” Huowu watched Leng Tian muttering peculiar words to himself, utterly puzzled.

Leng Tian turned to the group with a smile. “Of course I’m talking to it. For some unknown reason, I’ve become its master. It wants to follow me for life, but it’s so ugly I don’t want it!”

“Ah!” Huowu’s mouth formed a cute little walnut, her wide eyes darting back and forth between Leng Tian and the dragon.

“Brother Leng, is it true? How could that be?” Xiao Han glanced at Yanlong, who was equally stunned.

“It’s true. Hard to believe, isn’t it? But it really happened—I’ve become this creature’s master. Yet it claims to be a dragon, and still looks so ugly I don’t want it!” Leng Tian kicked Max’s massive body in frustration.

Max felt utterly miserable. A majestic golden dragon, reduced to a beast servant, rejected for being ugly! With both forepaws covering its head, it whimpered.

Yanlong and Xiao Han were speechless. A dragon, shunned for its looks—and instead of getting angry, it’s crying! What kind of scene was this? It was too much; who could bear it?

“There, there, don’t cry, dragon. Ugly doesn’t matter. I’ll dress you up so beautifully that Brother Leng won’t refuse you!” Huowu walked up to Max, patting its head and comforting it.

Her consolation only made the dragon’s sobs grow louder.

“Brother Leng, just accept him. Even if he’s ugly, at least we won’t have to walk everywhere anymore—what do you think?” She tugged at Leng Tian’s arm, pleading sweetly.

Leng Tian thought for a moment. How could he have forgotten that? He kicked Max again, saying, “Enough whining. From now on, you’ll be my mount. If you do well, I might even promote you!”

Hearing that Leng Tian would accept it, Max stopped whimpering at once. It didn’t want to be abandoned; becoming a sacred dragon depended entirely on this formidable master!

Martial Peak 11—Chapter Eleven: The Dragon! Too Ugly! Don’t Follow Me! End of update.