Douluo Dalu:Shards of Fate

The bustling streets of Tiandou City were alive with murmurs of unrest. Merchants bartered loudly with customers, while travelers moved through the narrow roads with wary glances. Amidst the usual chaos, one rumor had begun spreading like wildfire.

"A beast with humanoid shape and bat-like features," whispered one man to another at a crowded stall. "They say it attacked Spirit Hall itself!"

"A 100,000-year-old soul beast," another replied, his tone incredulous. "Do you think that's even possible?"

"Spirit Hall hasn't denied it," said a younger man with a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. "If it's true, then even they can't handle it. What chance do the rest of us have?"

In a quiet courtyard surrounded by blooming magnolia trees, a middle-aged man sat on a stone bench. His long black hair fell loosely over his shoulders, his piercing eyes shadowed by a hint of unease. In his hand, he held a delicate porcelain teacup, though the tea within it had long since grown cold.

Quan Daoliu, the Grand Worshipper of Spirit Hall, seemed lost in thought. His fingers tapped lightly against the cup as fragments of information swirled through his mind.

"A beast with humanoid shape and bat-like features…" he murmured softly, his brow furrowed. "Where have I heard of such a thing before?"

"Grandpa?"

The soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to see a young girl with golden hair and a radiant smile standing nearby. Qian Renxue, his granddaughter, approached him with concern in her eyes.

"What's wrong, Grandpa?" she asked, wrapping her arms around him in a light embrace.

Daoliu sighed, placing a gentle hand on her head. "Nothing, child," he said, though his voice was tinged with hesitation. "It's just a feeling… something big is going to happen."

The girl frowned, but before she could ask further, he patted her shoulder lightly. "Don't worry about it, little Xue. Focus on your studies. The future is still far off."

Deep within a blood-soaked cave, the air was thick with the scent of decay and death. Shadows danced along the jagged walls, cast by flickering torches held by cloaked figures who gathered in a loose circle.

"Lin," one of the figures spoke, their voice low and gravelly. "Is what I've heard true?"

"Yes," another replied, their tone trembling with reverence. "The Lord of the Sky has risen."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the group, their cloaks rustling as they shifted in excitement.

"Haha!" a third voice broke through the murmurs, sharp and mocking. "The Great Lord of the Sky, Hsi Wu, resurrected! Spirit Hall must be trembling!"

Laughter echoed through the cave, though it was undercut by an unmistakable tension.

"Grandpa, do I really have to go to the academy?" Ryo asked, his tone flat but carrying a faint edge of irritation. He walked alongside Li Anye, his crimson eyes flicking to the older man as they navigated the busy streets.

"Yes," Li replied firmly, his stride steady.

"But—"

"No buts," Li interrupted, his sharp eyes glancing down at Ryo. "A child should have friends."

"I have friends."

"Who?"

"…"

"Exactly," Li said with a sigh, shaking his head.

Ryo fell silent, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he asked, "Where are we going?"

"To Tiandou Academy," Li replied, quickening his pace.

Far away, within the serene halls of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, the clinking of porcelain teacups echoed softly as two elderly figures sat across from a much younger man.

"Grandpa Sword," Ning Fengzhi said, his tone thoughtful as he set his teacup down on the polished table. "Do you think it's true? The rumor about a 100,000-year-old soul beast attacking Spirit Hall?"

Chen Xin, also known as Sword Douluo, raised a brow. "If it's true, then Spirit Hall must have grown weaker than we thought," he replied, his voice calm but laced with disdain.

"Are you so sure?" countered Gu Rong, the Bone Douluo, leaning back with a smirk. "You saw the message we received. It wasn't just any beast—it was him. The Lord of the Sky, Hsi Wu."

"Hmph. Lord of the Sky?" Chen Xin scoffed, his sharp gaze locking onto Gu Rong. "A name like that is as fake as yours, Bone Douluo."

"You want to fight, Sword?" Gu Rong shot back, his grin widening. The air around him shimmered faintly as bone spikes began to form along his body.

"Gladly," Chen Xin replied, the temperature in the room dropping as his sword intent surged, filling the space with an oppressive energy.

"Enough," Ning Fengzhi said sharply, his tone cutting through the growing tension like a blade. His two elders exchanged a glance before withdrawing their auras, though their expressions remained sour.

Fengzhi's brow furrowed as he leaned back, his fingers drumming against the table. "Hsi Wu… The Lord of the Sky…" he murmured to himself, the name stirring a faint memory. Without another word, he stood and left the room, ignoring the curious looks from the two Douluos as he headed for the sect's archives.

The dim light of the archives bathed the rows of bookshelves in shadow. Fengzhi moved quickly, his hands brushing against the spines of countless tomes as he searched for the source of his unease. Hours passed, the silence broken only by the faint rustle of pages as he flipped through book after book, growing increasingly frustrated.

Finally, he leaned against an old cupboard with a sigh, his fingers running through his hair. As he did, a faint thud drew his attention. A book had fallen to the ground.

Fengzhi reached out instinctively, catching it with his spiritual power before it hit the floor. Turning it over, he read the title aloud.

"The Chronicles of Evil…" His voice trailed off as his brow furrowed deeper. The author's name, written in faded letters, stood out against the worn cover.

"Valon," he muttered, the name unfamiliar but heavy with significance.

Far above the mortal realm, within the Divine Realm, a figure bathed in radiant light gazed down at the world below. Their wings, shimmering with golden feathers, stretched wide as their piercing eyes scanned the continent.

"The evil has begun to stir," the angelic figure said, their voice calm but filled with authority. "The sorcerers rise again… and with them, chaos."

The divine being closed their eyes, their hands folding over the hilt of a gleaming sword as their presence seemed to expand across the heavens. "The balance of the world must not be broken."

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