Bio-engineered Dinosaur in the immortal world-Chapter 102: Zou Fang’s Bashawk

Liao Hao's victorious smirk froze. His confident posture stiffened, his eyes locking onto the battlefield.

His Bashawk, the mighty beast that had just dominated the fight moments ago, stood there motionless.

Meanwhile, Zou Fang's Bashawk staggered. For a brief moment, it looked like it would collapse. The disciples watching gasped, expecting it to fall. But then—

It straightened.

A deep breath. A shuddering movement.

Then, it stood firm.

Meanwhile… Liao Hao's Bashawk remained still.

Not just still. Completely frozen.

The murmurs in the crowd swelled into an overwhelming chorus of confusion.

"Wait… why isn't Liao Hao's Bashawk moving?"

"Zou Fang's Bashawk almost collapsed, but it's still standing!"

"What's happening? Is Liao Hao trying to surrender? Why hasn't his Bashawk attacked again?"

The spectators exchanged puzzled looks, trying to make sense of the eerie stillness.

Elder Fu frowned, his sharp eyes studying the battlefield. The other elders whispered among themselves, unsure of what they were witnessing.

Then—

A flicker of movement.

Not from Liao Hao's Bashawk.

But from its head.

A slow, unnatural tilt.

Then—

A thud.

A sharp gasp rippled through the audience.

Liao Hao's Bashawk's head… had fallen to the ground.

Silence.

A single moment where the entire world seemed to freeze.

And then—

A scream.

Liao Hao's agonized cry tore through the air as his hands clutched his chest. He staggered backward, his face contorted in sheer agony. His entire body trembled violently before—

He collapsed.

A disciple rushed forward. "Liao Hao?! What's wrong?!"

Someone else whispered in horror, "His soul is linked to his beast… his Bashawk died instantly… and he felt everything!"

Liao Hao's body convulsed before going limp.

He had passed out.

Gasps spread through the courtyard.

The new disciples, who had moments ago been jeering and insulting Zou Fang, were now completely stunned.

How?

How could this happen?

Liao Hao's Bashawk had been the superior beast in every way.

Stronger. Faster. More refined.

And yet… in an instant, it was dead.

Completely.

Gone.

They couldn't believe it.

Some even rubbed their eyes, convinced they were seeing an illusion.

"No way… this isn't real."

"What kind of trick is this?! That Bashawk… it was two levels higher!"

"Did Zou Fang cheat? Is this some sort of illusion technique?"

The crowd's confusion turned into wild speculation.

Some disciples were in complete denial.

Some were frozen, unable to process the reality of what had just unfolded before them.

Even Elder Fu narrowed his eyes, his usual friendly demeanor replaced with something more calculating.

He was an experienced warrior, a veteran of countless battles, but even he couldn't fully grasp what had transpired.

Meanwhile, in Zou Fang's spiritual sea of consciousness—

Laughter.

Loud. Uncontrolled. Echoing.

Wei Long was practically rolling in the void, his massive Tyrannosaurus-rex form shaking as he cackled without restraint.

Red'Ribbon, however, was not laughing.

His expression had shifted from curiosity… to fear.

His crimson eyes flickered as he processed what had just happened.

"That… that shouldn't be possible."

Wei Long's laughter only grew louder. "Shouldn't be possible?! Oh, my dear Red'Ribbon, you should know by now—I don't care about what's possible!"

Red'Ribbon turned toward Wei Long, his expression darkening.

"Tell me the truth. What did you do?"

Wei Long grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming in the spiritual space.

"What do you mean? I just let fate take its course."

Red'Ribbon wasn't buying it.

He knew Wei Long too well by now.

This… this was not normal.

Zou Fang's Bashawk had been at a disadvantage the entire fight.

And yet, in a single instant, it had killed Liao Hao's Bashawk with such precision that its head had fallen clean off.

There was no logical explanation.

Unless…

Unless Wei Long had interfered.

Red'Ribbon inhaled sharply. "This isn't just luck. It wasn't a coincidence. You did something… didn't you?"

Wei Long's grin widened.

"Maybe."

Red'Ribbon clenched his fists.

Back in the arena—

Zou Fang snapped out of his daze.

He had been standing motionless this whole time, struggling to process what had just happened.

His hands trembled slightly. He had felt something just before his Bashawk made its final move.

Something foreign.

Something that wasn't his own power.

He couldn't describe it.

But it had been there.

And now, Liao Hao was unconscious, and his Bashawk was dead. Without its head. Ohhh—it was there, on the side with its tongue out and eyes soulless.

Swallowing hard, Zou Fang rushed forward.

"Bashawk!"

Immediately, his Bashawk turned toward him.

Still standing.

Still breathing.

However, the most shocking part was that it felt so healthy that it looked like a fight didn't happen.

Still, Zou Fang dropped to one knee, his voice urgent.

"Are you okay?"

His Bashawk let out a low, guttural sound, almost as if it was sighing in pleasure and not exhaustion.

Zou Fang's heart pounded. He placed his hands on its feathers, checking for wounds, checking for anything unusual.

He asked again. "Are you okay?"

No response.

Only a steady stare from his Bashawk like it was saying, give me more! Let me have more fight!

Zou Fang's throat tightened.

"You're fine… right?"

Another moment of silence.

Then, his Bashawk finally moved.

A single, slow and serious nod.

Zou Fang's body relaxed all at once, as if a massive weight had been lifted from his back.

Relief washed over him.

"Thank the heavens…"

He exhaled shakily, his hands still gripping his Bashawk's feathers.

For a moment, he had thought—

No.

He didn't even want to think about that.

His Bashawk was alive.

That was all that mattered.

The crowd was still speechless, whispering among themselves.

Then—

A voice boomed through the arena.

Not Zou Fang's.

Not an elder's.

Not a disciple's.

Wei Long's.

From within Zou Fang's spiritual sea of consciousness, Wei Long's laughter abruptly stopped.

And then, his voice thundered outward—

"HEY! IS THERE ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO CHALLENGE ME?!"

The entire arena went dead silent.

Even Zou Fang stiffened, his heart skipping a beat.

That voice…

That wasn't his voice.

And yet, it had come from his own mouth.

Everyone turned to stare at him.

Wei Long's words echoed.

A challenge.

A demand.

A declaration of war.

Zou Fang stood there.

Unmoving.

Expressionless.

The air itself seemed to freeze, and for a long, drawn-out moment, nothing happened.

No one spoke.

No one breathed.

The once-rowdy disciples, who had been screaming for his blood, who had been chanting for his humiliation, were now nothing more than silent statues.

Their mouths hung open, but no words came out.

Their eyes darted to one another, searching for someone—anyone—to break the unbearable quiet.

But no one did.

The silence stretched on.

Longer.

And longer.

And longer.

The new disciples who had once mocked him had completely lost their voices. Their earlier aggression was replaced with sheer confusion and disbelief.

Even those who wanted to curse him, who wanted to claim the battle had been a fluke, couldn't muster the strength to open their mouths.

Because deep down, a single thought burned in their minds.

How?

How did Zou Fang's weaker Bashawk not only win—but kill Liao Hao's?

The answer was something none of them could accept.

And then—

A single voice shattered the stillness.

Elder Fu.

His sharp, inquisitive tone cut through the silence like a blade.

"How did you do it?"

The question rang through the courtyard, and all eyes turned to Zou Fang.

Elder Fu's expression was unreadable, his gaze piercing.

Zou Fang stiffened.

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He was about to speak when suddenly, from deep within his spiritual sea, Wei Long's voice echoed.

"Say whatever you want. Make it sound convincing. I don't care what nonsense you come up with, just make sure they believe it."

Zou Fang hesitated for only a moment.

Then, he opened his mouth.

And he began to speak.

"Bashawk… wasn't born strong."

The moment those words left his lips, the new disciples held their breath.

They listened.

They waited.

And Zou Fang…

He kept going.

"When I first found him, he was weak. So weak that he couldn't even hunt properly. So weak that even lower-tier beasts could overpower him. But I didn't give up. I trained him. I pushed him. Every single day, without rest, without hesitation, without mercy!"

His voice grew stronger, more passionate.

"We didn't have resources like you wealthy brats. We didn't have the luxury of expensive cultivation techniques or high-grade elixirs! We had nothing—but willpower!"

The disciples' eyes widened.

Some flinched.

Zou Fang clenched his fists, his voice growing more intense.

"Do you know what it's like to train until you collapse? Until your entire body refuses to move, but you still force yourself up?! Do you know what it's like to be hunted instead of hunting? To wake up every single day knowing that if you don't improve, if you don't get stronger, you'll die?!"

Some of the new disciples swallowed hard.

Zou Fang's voice never wavered.

"Bashawk… is strong not because he was born that way, but because I pushed him beyond his limits. Every time he reached his peak, I made him surpass it. Every time he wanted to stop, I made him continue. Pain? Suffering? Those are just stepping stones to strength!"

His words carried weight.

The kind of weight that made people doubt themselves.

The kind of weight that made those who had lived in comfort realize just how soft they had been.

And then—

Zou Fang raised his head.

His eyes burned with a defiant fire.

"So don't ask me how I did it. Don't ask me why he won. The answer is simple—because I trained him to win. Because we refuse to be weak!"