A hush had fallen over the clearing, save for the wind rustling through the trees like an old song whispering of fate. Beneath the dappled light, Tang Hao stood still, his gaze fixed on the boy before him. There was disbelief in his eyes—disbelief that something so small, so young, could stare him down without flinching.
This child—only six years old—looked up at him, a man revered and feared across the continent, one of the mighty Titles Douluo, and showed no sign of fear. Was it bravado? A clever bluff? Or did he truly possess the strength to escape from death's grasp?
Tang Hao didn't know. And that was the problem.
If he could end the boy's life in a single strike, that would be ideal—clean, decisive, final. But if the boy managed to slip from his fingers and sought sanctuary with the Spirit Hall, there would be no second chance. They would protect him. And if that happened, Tang Hao feared the boy's vengeance would fall not on him—but on his son, Tang San.
That risk was too great.
He narrowed his eyes, his voice quiet but heavy with weight. "What game are you playing?"
The boy, Qian Yu, still wore the same tranquil smile, like a rippleless lake under moonlight. "It's a simple game," he replied, his voice light yet unyielding. "You want to kill me. Fine. I'll give you the chance."
He stepped forward, barely coming up to the man's waist, yet his presence filled the space between them like thunder waiting behind clouds.
"You'll suppress your spirit power to the thirtieth level. We fight. If you win, I won't resist. You can strike me down where I stand. But if I win..." Qian Yu's gaze hardened slightly, his tone sharpening like the edge of a blade wrapped in silk, "then you will not lay a hand on me for ten years. And in return, I'll spare your son for ten years."
Tang Hao's jaw clenched. His expression turned colder than the mountain air around them. "Why should I believe a single word that comes from your mouth?"
Qian Yu shrugged, almost amused. "Because you have no other choice."
"Why?" Tang Hao snapped.
"Because," the boy said, still smiling, "this is your one chance. Either you lower your power and fight me fairly, or you try to kill me now... and I'll escape. And once I do, it's your son who'll pay the price."
He let those words linger, their weight settling into the silence like snow falling on stone.
"The choice is yours," Qian Yu added, voice like velvet over steel. "But if you want my life, then you'll have to wager your son's on it."
There wasn't even a flicker of fear in his eyes.
Then, as if the world itself responded to the tension between them, a breeze stirred the leaves, and with it came something else—something deeper.
A powerful presence swept over the area like a crashing wave.
Tang Hao tensed instantly. Another Title Douluo... was here.
Qian Yu sensed it too. His heart skipped a beat.
One presence was faint—an experienced Soul Master, but not overwhelming. That must be Yu Xiaogang, he guessed. But the other...
The other presence crackled with raw, unrestrained power. Undeniably a Title Douluo.
Could there be another here besides Tang Hao? Qian Yu's mind raced. Tang Hao had been in hiding for years, living in the shadows to protect his son. He wouldn't have brought an ally. No... this new force could only mean one thing.
The Spirit Hall had arrived.
His presence must have been reported. And now, they had sent someone powerful—perhaps someone significant.
Qian Yu's expression didn't change, but inside, a plan began to take shape.
He looked at Tang Hao, voice calm but heavy with implication. "You feel that, don't you? Another presence... Another Title Douluo. Tell me, who do you think it is?"
Tang Hao said nothing, but Qian Yu could see it—the gears turning behind those sharp eyes. Doubt creeping in.
He pressed on, softly but deliberately. "Aren't you curious? Isn't it strange that I'm so confident... So calm? Could it be that I'm not alone?"
Tang Hao's eyes narrowed. Could this boy be from the Spirit Hall? Was this all a trap? A child with innate thirtieth-level spirit power, standing proud like a general? Was he a prodigy sent by the enemy?
Suddenly, everything made sense. That pride. That composure. That impossible talent.
This child... he might truly be what he claimed.
Tang Hao's fists clenched. He could feel it now—there was no margin for error. If he failed to kill the boy in one strike, if Qian Yu escaped, then the next life claimed wouldn't be his—it would be Tang San's.
His voice came low, almost grudging. "Very well. I accept your wager. I will suppress my spirit power to level thirty."
From the shadows beyond the trees, another figure watched. An old man with hair like silver snow, eyes as sharp as knives in the dark. He said nothing. He did not move.
Qian Daoliu.
He had come not to intervene, but to observe. To confirm with his own eyes whether this child—this mysterious, radiant soul—was truly the reincarnation of their founder.
If so, not even Tang Hao could stop him. And if danger came, Qian Daoliu would strike when the time was right.
But for now, he watched. And waited.
Let the boy reveal himself.
Qian Yu turned to face Tang Hao, eyes gleaming with light that belied his age. "Then let us begin, Clear Sky Douluo."
Tang Hao raised his arm.
A hammer materialized in his hand, immense and shimmering with the signature purplish-gold of the Clear Sky lineage. But suppressed to thirty levels, its massive form shrank, condensing into something more refined yet no less deadly.
Qian Yu watched him calmly. Then, with a sweep of his hand, a golden spear appeared in his grip.
Etched with curling dragon patterns, the spear gleamed as if forged from sunlight. From it radiated a majestic pressure—a soul force so potent, it made the air hum with tension.
And then... it appeared.
A single, black soul ring.
Tang Hao's eyes widened. Shock, real and raw, flashed across his face. "Impossible...! Isn't your spirit the Nether Ghost Begonia?"
He stared in disbelief. "And... how can your first spirit ring be of ten-thousand-year quality?!"
Even among the greatest, a soul ring of that level was unheard of at the first stage. Even Tang Hao himself had only obtained one such ring—for his fifth soul ability.
"Is it a sacrifice?" he whispered, struggling to understand. "Did someone die for this power?"
But Qian Yu merely smiled, calm as a moonlit sea. "I never said I had only one spirit."
The older man's voice faltered. "You... you have twin spirits?!"
Qian Yu gave a cryptic shrug. "Care to guess?"
The words hit Tang Hao like thunder. Even Qian Daoliu, hidden in the darkness, stiffened with disbelief. His breath caught as he watched the boy exude a power that should have broken his body.
He had yet to reveal the Nether Begonia. Was it true, then? A child with dual spirits? A ten-thousand-year ring as his first?
A once-in-an-era genius... or something even greater?
"Could he truly be... the reincarnation of our founder?" Qian Daoliu whispered into the shadows.
For a moment, time seemed to still. The clearing was silent save for the wind and the breath of giants.
And in the center stood a boy with a golden spear and a smile that threatened to change the world.
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