The dragon couldn’t stand, but it could still lift its head. Its neck pulled back. The pale scales under its throat swelled like bellows. Pei Jing had seen what its spit did to hemp. A mouthful of bile would fill the whole gorge with burning mist.
The Cloud-Splitter slid free.
Pei Jing jumped straight into the dragon’s open jaws. His boots landed between two fangs on the slick floor of its mouth. A tongue as thick as a tree trunk lashed underfoot. The Chaos Root sent earth qi into his feet and held them in place.
The upper jaw came down. Rows of iron teeth cast a shadow across his face. He could smell rotten fish and hot bile.
Pei Jing held the cleaver upright in his right hand. His left palm kept the hilt in line while he drove the blade upward with his legs and right shoulder. The edge he’d worked on the Black Mountain Whetstone passed where the armor on the outside of the skull couldn’t stop it. Bone gave way with a crack.
The upper jaw stopped three inches above his hat. The dragon stiffened from head to tail.
He kept both hands on the blade and sent Chaos Gang Qi through the steel. It rang inside the skull. The light in the dragon’s eyes flickered twice and went out. The link between the beast core and the body went dark. The core itself still held qi behind the fractured brow.
