Hua Biliu had naturally never seen a dragon before. The creation of the world by the Dragon God and the demise of the dragon were stories that had long been known in the Three Thousand Worlds. As the biological son of Taotie, he knew more about this matter.
But at this moment, it was difficult for him to control his thoughts that "this piece of living meat can indeed imitate the dragon."
The tiny ants on the snow were chirping like a gathering of knives, cold iron condensed into anger, and the snowflakes in the air were all rolled into tiny vortices by the knife wind. Occasionally, a few pieces of snow like goose feathers poked their heads out from the center of the vortex, and were immediately chopped into hundreds of powdery ice crystals by the sharp edges of the wind. Countless wind vortices were dyed pure white like snow, and these tiny wind vortices worked together without disturbing each other, forming the appearance that was now in front of Hua Biliu's eyes.
If it rises up into the clouds and rides on the mist, it can soar into the sky and hold up the universe. Made of ice and snow, it still has the heart of thunder and fire; made of wind blades, it still has the aura of shading the trees and moistening the water.
If there really are any remaining dragons in the world, I think they would look like this.
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