Yu Chen took a deep breath, staring into the waters below. He was preparing to dive in and begin tempering his body, but he couldn't avoid the shiver of fear that ran through him. He’d been like a child before, unaware of the dangers that were lurking within its depths, but his encounter with the river monster had changed all that. He’d only seen the faintest fraction of the secrets lying within the river, but even that brief glimpse was enough to leave him with a lasting sense of respect.

  He knew he was hesitating. Breathing out, he let his fears go and stilled his mind.

  His breaths came and went as he attuned himself with the world, letting his thoughts go one by one until even the notion of Yu Chen disappeared. He took one last breath, and with it the last distinctions between him and the river evaporated. Ten thousand disparate entities dissolved into one milieu of pure being.

  Only then did he dive overboard, sliding beneath the waves.

  Yu Chen believed that Xiao Huang had sent him into the waters of life and death in order to temper his body. Except, the Five Elements Tempering Technique had already done everything that could be done in that regard. The technique was truly miraculous, it was something only the most learned and ancient of master's could pass on, given only to those who hailed from the most powerful and mysterious of sects. It was the definition of a hidden technique, something people would kill to learn, or kill to keep secret.

  Wood qi was something prized by those who sought vitality and regeneration. Nurturing it improved the tendons and allowed one to channel more energy than their peers. Fire on the other hand, governed the heart. It increased one's bloodflow and power, and its purifying flames were the best at removing impurities. Every element had its advantages, and their adherents dedicated themselves to them wholly, using them to temper their bodies in order to improve their techniques.

  But who was Yu Chen? He’d not only used Wood to temper his tendons and Fire to temper his heart, but had gone further still; Earth had solidified his bones and Metal hardened his skin, while Water had swirled through his organs, reinforcing his liver, his kidneys, his spleen–The five elements had combined together to ensure that no part of his body had been left out. They’d even worked together to empower his muscles, giving him the strength necessary to use his reforged body.

  He kicked his feet, pushing deeper beneath the waves. He could feel the energy within swirling around him like a tangible force, but he didn’t stop moving until the waters around him grew murky and he felt pressure building up within his ears. Only then did he pause, opening up his pores as he cycled the Yellow River Tempering Technique.

  Once, long ago, Xiao Huang had told him the technique was a secret of dragons.

  That was a lie.

  The technique wasn’t some mystery of dragonkind. It was something that belonged to Huanghe Shenlong alone, as much as the little dragon belonged to the yellow river itself. He’d also lied about its purpose. Yu Chen wasn’t here to temper a body that was already as near to perfect as it could be. Xiao Huang had brought him into these deep waters for something a body tempering technique could never hope to accomplish.

  Yu Chen was here to temper his bloodline.

  Only a single drop of the dragon’s blood ran through Yu Chen’s veins, but even that was enough to have a profound impact, restructuring his heart on a fundamental level. His very being had been transformed the day they met, and his bloodline had been forever changed. Xiao Huang’s lineage had been spliced into his own, like a branch from one fruiting tree to another, and every fruit produced from that tree now contained a trace of them both. The drop of dragon’s blood didn’t run through his veins as something separate from his own, one among a thousand, or ten thousand, or a hundred. No, every drop of blood running through his veins reverberated with the power of a divine dragon, only it was so diluted most would never tell.

  Even so, it had been a powerful boon. It had made him taller and stronger than the others, and when he ran, he never grew tired. But, was that the extent of a dragon’s bloodline? In truth, he’d never considered it, never wondered what would happen if his bloodline grew stronger. After all, Xiao Huang was dead and gone. His corpse had long since returned to the world, forever cutting off any chance Yu Chen had of receiving more blood.

  The only hint he’d ever had that it was possible was the dragon’s lone mention of jumping over the dragon’s gate.

  But who was Xiao Huang? He was none other than Huanghe Shenlong, the Divine Dragon of the Yellow River, and if he claimed to be second, there were none who would dare claim to be first. He was more of a force of nature than an actual being, one of the rare beings in this world who had taken a step into actual divinity. Even in death he endured, and he'd managed to devise a most mystical technique.

  Yu Chen’s blood sang as that technique activated.

  The river responded in an instant, roaring up around him as currents rose from the depths to drag him down below. He spun about in the undertow, his mind and body screaming as the latent energies in the river built up to an unbearable level. He was caught like a leaf in a storm, but he didn’t feel fear. Despite its power the river didn’t hurt him or tear at his mind. It cradled him as gently as one would a babe, radiating a sense of peace and contentment so strong he had no choice but to give in.

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  He let go, and the river subsumed him.

  It was like returning home.

  His last vestiges of fear faded away as he melded into the river, and for a single, eternal moment he felt himself as the river did. Massive, large beyond belief, home to a countless number of lifeforms that existed both above and below.

  He was life, in more ways than one.

  Deep within his waters tiny creatures were constantly proliferating, born and bred to feed those that were larger still. They darted through his shallows, preying on the weak, but larger things waited to prey on them in turn, and those larger still waited on them. Plants beyond measure covered his banks, shading his shores and providing a home, food, and shelter to those in need.

  His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he gasped. Bubbles escaped from his mouth as he recoiled from the countless sensations of life and death the endless river thrust upon him.

  Everything about the river was cyclical, one thing feeding into the next. Even within those cycles there were cycles, as nature ran its course in never-ending loops that played back upon itself. The small fed the large, but even when the largest died they sank to the bottom, providing nourishment for the small and nutrients for the plants, starting the cycle anew. Nothing escaped it, even the water that ran through his body existed in cycles. The currents ran across the earth for countless miles before sinking into a deep basin, disappearing underground only to spring out again at the head, starting the cycle anew. Weather patterns stole the waters from his countless fingers, carrying it through the air to rain down upon the ground for thousands of miles all around. Yet another cycle, as the waters pooled on the earth in ponds and lakes before bleeding through the land, traveling along a circuitous route that led back to him.

  In the end, they always returned back to him.

  The river was life, yes. And the river was death.

  He could feel it like a chord running through his body, a ceaseless sensation of millions of living beings crying out in terror, before suddenly falling silent. The strangest part was that the sound wasn’t discordant. Somehow, the sound of death complemented the notes of life, and together they blended into a perfect harmony that reverberated throughout his body as a single inevitable truth. It was the ultimate cycle, the endless one. Fascinated, he leaned into the feeling. Even that single note contained ten thousand subtle variances that expressed itself in countless ways.

  Death came in flavors.

  There was a difference between when a small thing died and something larger, between when an intelligent thing passed and one that was near mindless. There was a greater difference still between those who died on or within him, juxtaposed against the millions more who died because of him. He could feel them out there, countless beings along his endless shores, bowed over in abject worship of his presence.

  For many of them he was life, but for others he was a force of terror and destruction. They anthropomorphized him, imagining his storms as the rage of the gods, his monsoons as a punishment for the unworthy. They worshipped, not knowing that when he leveled cities and destroyed towns that he did so without an iota of care.

  He was a test, and a gift for those who could make a way on their own.

  Yu Chen’s mouth was wrenched open as the rivers of the water forced themselves into and throughout his body. He didn’t realize it, only falling deeper into the trance created by his transformative experience within the river, but his blood did. Every pore, both internal and external, opened wide as the river ran through him, the technique greedily sucking away at the latent energies lying within the yellow waters.

  The waters didn’t seem to mind his theft, neither diminishing nor pulling back as he unconsciously drained it of energy. That was good, as his blood was hungry, or thirsty, as the case might be.

  Yu Chen’s heart beat harder than it ever had before, so hard it might have actually beat a hole in his chest if not for his perfectly tempered body. His bloodline roared in satisfaction, and every new pump of his heart sent out blood that was just a touch denser than before.

  The equivalent of one drop became two, then four, then eight, as the density of draconic blood in his veins multiplied at rapid speed, the yellow river bringing it surging back to life like a phoenix rising from the flames. The stronger it became the greedier it grew, sucking as hard as it could to pull every ounce of energy out of the river.

  But what was the river? It was nothing less than the Yellow River, the source of life and death that girdled the planet, spreading out with a thousand, thousand fingers to grip the world in a firm grasp. It, no, he was something powerful beyond belief, life and death and a thousand more concepts made manifest and summed up in two words. It gave away freely, without concern, although it was just as liable to take away.

  A transformation began as energy flooded through him, moving faster than his blood could steal it. His hair, already long and thick, now poured down his back in waves like midnight silk, shining with a luster that would shame the stars. His nails pressed out from the nailbed, lengthening into curved talons that were half draconic. A searing heat ran through his eyes as his irises elongated, sharpening his vision to a razor's edge. The world around him snapped into focus, even within the murky depths. Every ripple of water and movement of the currents was rendered with perfect clarity. A new sense appeared as the changes continued, allowing him to sense the pulse of life around him.

  He was still unaware during all this, but he snapped back to himself as he felt something within him give way. A boundary that had been holding him back far too long evaporated as his body transformed, dragging him to new heights. His dantian doubled, then tripled in size, rapidly expanding as his bloodline sang in exultation. He thrashed around as he came to his senses, panicking for a brief moment as he felt the water, suffused with enormous energy, pressing against him on all sides.

  The river’s voice–Xiao Huang’s voice–whispered to him. Relax Hatchling, it seemed to murmur as it sent currents surging up around him to carry him back toward the light.