Douluo Dalu: From Shinobi to Spirit Master

"The person who stayed with Her Holiness the Pope last night… Are you talking about Su Chen?"

Yue Guan's voice was tinged with confusion as he addressed the blonde girl standing before him. Her golden eyes betrayed an unusual intensity.

Yue Guan, who remained in Spirit City while Ghost Douluo scouted for suitable locations, had a clear understanding of his current duties. Yet, the special attention Su Chen was receiving from Bibi Dong unsettled him.

"Yes," Yue Guan continued with a tinge of bitterness. "This boy is deeply favored by Her Holiness. To this day, I haven't even set foot in that garden myself."

His tone was sour, and the bitterness in his words couldn't be missed.

Su Chen… so that's his name.

Qian Renxue's mind replayed the image of a silver-haired boy with piercing black eyes. A rare visage. She nodded slowly, masking her interest behind a veil of indifference.

"Is he a newcomer to the Spirit Hall?" she asked, her tone even.

"Indeed. His martial soul was awakened just days ago, and he recently became a spirit master." Yue Guan paused, hesitating as he acknowledged Su Chen's talent, despite his jealousy. "Though I hate to admit it, his talent is extraordinary. Not only does he possess innate full spirit power, but his martial soul is unlike anything I've ever seen before."

Yue Guan's expression shifted subtly, a trace of awe breaking through. "Of course," he added, "compared to your innate full spirit power of level 20 and the Seraphim martial soul, he's still lacking. But…"

He trailed off, his voice faltering as he thought of Su Chen's mysterious martial soul.

"But what?" Qian Renxue frowned, sensing something significant.

Yue Guan's gaze flickered. "His first spirit ring… is a thousand-year ring—no, closer to three thousand years."

"What?!" Qian Renxue shot to her feet, golden eyes wide with disbelief. "That's impossible!"

Her voice trembled, the words almost choking her. As someone with unparalleled talent, even she knew the limits of a first spirit ring. Her own, though at its absolute limit, had been no more than four hundred years.

The thought of a thousand-year first ring—or worse, three thousand years—was unfathomable.

"Impossible," she repeated, more to herself than Yue Guan. "No one can endure the backlash from a spirit beast of that level at the first ring. The mental erosion alone would be fatal."

"Believe what you will," Yue Guan replied with a smirk, reveling in her reaction. "The elders of the Spirit Hall witnessed it themselves. Oh, and he has four spirit abilities."

This time, Qian Renxue didn't reply. She turned and walked away, her movements brisk but her steps heavy with thought.

Yue Guan watched her retreating figure, his smirk growing. "Ah, kids these days… Their psychological resilience is so weak. If only she knew that Su Chen defeated a Level 40 Iron-Horned Rhino Soul Sect in direct combat…"

He chuckled to himself. "Well, maybe it's better this way."

Qian Renxue's heart was in turmoil.

Her pride, built on her extraordinary talent and lineage, was now on shaky ground. As the Seraphim inheritor, her innate full spirit power of level 20 and optimal spirit ring configuration had always been her badge of superiority.

And yet, someone had surpassed her so effortlessly.

No wonder… no wonder she…

The image of Bibi Dong's rare smile flashed in her mind, now tied to the silver-haired boy with black eyes.

Her lips pressed tightly together, drawing blood, as an unfamiliar emotion consumed her—jealousy.

"I'll see for myself," she muttered, her golden eyes blazing. "Let's find out just how powerful a thousand-year first ring truly is."

Meanwhile, Su Chen was oblivious to the storm brewing around him.

Content with the rare moments of peace, he immersed himself in studying his martial soul.

His fusion of chakra and martial soul power intrigued him. Though he could access basic techniques, the full potential of elemental ninjutsu seemed out of reach, as if something essential was missing.

"Perhaps I need another spirit ring," Su Chen mused, his sharp eyes glinting with resolve.

If he had known what awaited him, he might have been less eager to delve into his studies.

Su Chen's cultivation advanced steadily. With the Linwu Silkworm's thousand-year soul ring, his soul power surged to level 15. Coupled with the improved soul power training method he was developing, he estimated that within a month, he could confidently hunt for his second soul ring. By then, he might finally uncover the deeper mysteries of his martial soul.

Lost in thought, Su Chen's expression was calm, his silver hair glinting faintly in the morning light as his martial soul's shadow flickered faintly behind him.

But unbeknownst to him, waves were already rippling across the continent.

The Spirit Hall's declaration had spread like wildfire.

A ceremony for the succession of the new pope.

As the most formidable soul master organization on the Douluo Continent, the Spirit Hall's announcements were no trivial matter. It was a sanctuary of countless soul masters' aspirations and the crucible of power. Every force, from the mighty sects to obscure clans, kept their eyes fixed on this monumental event.

Although the Spirit Hall had tried to shroud the demise of its former Pope, Qian Xunji, at the hands of Haotian Douluo Tang Hao, whispers still spread in secret. Tang Hao's Clear Sky Hammer, imbued with unparalleled power, had shaken the Spirit Hall to its core.

Now, as the invitation—or rather, summons—spread, tension mounted. The Spirit Hall's action felt more like a challenge than an invitation. And so, the great forces waited, observing one another, each hesitant to move prematurely.

Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect

Amidst ethereal mountains where clouds wove through lush valleys, a secluded world of tranquility existed. The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, known as the first auxiliary sect on the continent, stood resplendent. Its grand pavilions, adorned with shimmering tiles, reflected the sunlight, creating a scene as mesmerizing as a painting.

In the highest pavilion, an elegant chamber radiated calm, though the atmosphere within was anything but.

"Fengzhi, I strongly advise against stepping into these murky waters."

The speaker was an elder whose appearance exuded an ageless purity. Dressed in a snow-white robe, his silver hair combed neatly, Sword Douluo Chen Xin's stern eyes were locked onto the young sect master before him. His voice carried a blade-like sharpness.

"The Spirit Hall is far more complicated than you realize."

Ning Fengzhi, the sect master of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, wore a faint smile. His refined demeanor masked the unease flickering in his heart. Adjusting the fine-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, he replied softly, "Uncle Jian, this isn't a choice. The Spirit Hall's invitation isn't a gesture of goodwill—it's a declaration. If I'm correct, every notable force and academy across the continent has received the same notice."

A sigh escaped him as he continued, "This isn't about attendance—it's about allegiance. The Spirit Hall is forcing the entire continent to choose a side. And if the rumors are true, then Tang Hao's actions were no mere rebellion. He killed Qian Xunji."

Chen Xin's expression darkened. "The Clear Sky Hammer… a terrifying martial soul capable of such destruction. Even the Angel Spirit wasn't spared. Tang Hao's strength is monstrous."

His words carried the weight of unease. Whether they chose to attend or not, the sect would inevitably be drawn into a web of conflict. The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect was caught between the titanic powers of the Haotian Sect and the Spirit Hall.

"To attend or not to attend—that is the question," Chen Xin said, his gaze turning serious.

Ning Fengzhi tapped his fingers rhythmically on the armrest of his chair. The room fell into a momentary silence, broken only by the soft melody of a guqin playing in the distance.

Finally, Ning Fengzhi spoke. "We'll go. There's no alternative." His voice was firm, but his tone carried a trace of resignation.

Adjusting his glasses again, his eyes sparkled with a subtle determination. "I suspect everyone else has come to the same conclusion. The Spirit Hall has extended their invitation with such enthusiasm—how could we refuse?"

Chen Xin's brow furrowed, but he nodded in understanding.

Ning Fengzhi continued, his voice lower now, as if speaking more to himself than his companion. "I only hope the Spirit Hall doesn't use this opportunity to escalate things further. The storm is brewing, Uncle Jian, and we are all caught in its path."