The days that followed blurred into a predictable, yet exhilarating, rhythm of victory. The preliminary rounds of the Continental Tournament became the personal playground of the Shrek Academy. They were a force of nature, a whirlwind of brutal, efficient power that swept through the lesser academies with contemptuous ease.
Their matches became the main event, drawing crowds that were larger and more boisterous than even those for the top-seeded elemental academies. The people of Heaven Dou City had found their new champions, their scrappy, monstrous underdogs.
The team fought with a new, terrifying cohesion with Tang San leading the charge with his Purple Spirit Grass and maintaining control over the movements of his opponents.
Dai Mubai and Yu Tianheng were his twin hammers, a storm of white-hot fury and crackling blue lightning that shattered any defense that stood in their path.
Ma Hongjun's phoenix flames were a cleansing, destructive fire that swept the field, while Oscar's endless supply of sausages kept their stamina at a constant, furious peak.
And Xiao Wu… Xiao Wu was a beautiful, deadly ghost, her teleportation and powerful kicks a constant, unpredictable threat that could end a fight in an instant.
They were undefeated. And they were just getting started.
But while the world was watching the bright, public spectacle of the tournament, a different, far more dangerous game was being played in the shadows.
Deep within the thunder-wreathed fortress of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, the new, true power of the continent was beginning to stir.
The grand elder's hall, which had once been a place of quiet, dignified authority, was now a war room. A massive, detailed map of the Heaven Dou Empire was spread across the great stone table, its surface littered with small, carved wooden markers that represented the various assets of their new, and most hated, enemy.
Yu Yuanzhen stood at the head of the table, his golden eyes blazing with a cold, predatory light. He was flanked by his four brothers, the new Titled Douluos of his clan. They stood tall and proud, their bodies humming with a new, potent power, the oppressive auras of newly ascended peak experts a tangible, suffocating presence in the room.
Across from them sat the two most powerful men of the Clear Sky Sect, Tang Xiao and elder Tang Ming. The air between the two factions was of a shared, burning ambition.
"The target must be chosen with care," Tang Xiao said, his voice a low, somber sound that was a stark contrast to the crackling, violent energy of the room. His finger traced a line on the map, a path that led from Heaven Dou City to the northern provinces. "The Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect has dozens of Spirit Douluo elders. But most are stationed at their main sect, or in the capital, under the direct protection of the Sword Douluo and the Bone Douluo. To attack them there would be suicide."
"He is right," Yu Luomian, Yu Yuanzhen's younger brother added, his own voice a low, gravelly rumble. "We need a target that is isolated. Powerful enough to possess the secrets we desire, but vulnerable enough for us to take without a protracted, public battle."
Their gazes all fell on a single, small marker on the map, a representation of a remote, mountainous region in the northernmost province of the empire.
"The Heavenly Star Mountain Range," Yu Yuanzhen said, his voice a low, satisfied purr. "The location of their largest, and most profitable, Deep Sea Mithril mine. It is a place of immense strategic and economic importance to them. And its security is overseen by a single Spirit Douluo."
He picked up a small, intricately carved wooden token that bore the name of their target. "Elder Gu Chen," he read, a slow, predatory smile on his face. "Level 87. His spirit is the Mountain-Moving Ape. A power-attack type. Strong, but predictable. And most importantly… he is a man of duty. If his precious mine is threatened, he will come running."
The target was chosen. Now, for the bait.
"We cannot attack the mine directly," Tang Xiao cautioned, his voice a low, steady sound of pure, pragmatic logic. "That would be too obvious. The trail would lead directly back to us. We need… a natural disaster."
Yu Yuanzhen's smile widened. "And we," he said, his gaze sweeping over his four powerful, newly ascended brothers, "are a force of nature."
The plan was a simple, brutal, and beautifully elegant one.
One of the new Titled Douluos, the third elder, Yu Longwei, a man whose own Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon had a unique, sound-based mutation, would travel to the northern mountains.
He would use his own, unique abilities to provoke a monster tide. He would not attack the beasts directly. He would simply… agitate them.
He would use his draconic roar, amplified by his Titled Douluo spirit power, to create a wave of pure, disorienting sound that would drive every spirit beast within a hundred-mile radius into a state of blind, stampeding panic.
And he would aim that stampede directly at the Heavenly Star Mountain Range. Directly at the Deep Sea Mithril mine.
A massive, "natural" monster tide, appearing without warning, would be a threat that the local garrison, even with its Spirit Saint captain, could not possibly handle. They would send a desperate, frantic call for help. And the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect, in their arrogance, would dispatch the one man who was responsible for the security of that entire region.
Elder Gu Chen.
And they… they would be waiting for him.
The ambush was planned with a terrifying, military precision. They identified the most likely route he would take, a secluded, winding mountain pass miles from any city, any patrol route. And there, in the shadows of the ancient, silent peaks, the full, combined might of the new dragon-hammer alliance would be waiting.
It was a perfect plan. It was a vile plan. And it was a plan that was about to be set in motion.
A week later, a low, subsonic roar, a sound that was more a feeling than a sound, echoed through the deep, silent forests of the northern mountains. The birds fell silent. The animals froze. And then, the ground began to tremble.
A wave of pure, unadulterated panic washed through the forest. A thousand, ten thousand, a hundred thousand spirit beasts, from the lowly hundred-year-old spirit wolves to the mighty fifty-thousand-year-old mountain gorillas, were driven from their homes, their minds a screaming, white-hot vortex of pure, instinctual terror.
They ran.
They ran in a single, massive, and utterly unstoppable tide of flesh and fury. And they ran in one direction.
Towards the Heavenly Star Mountain Range.
The news of the monster tide hit the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect like a thunderclap. The initial reports were confused, chaotic. A "natural" stampede, of a size and a ferocity that had not been seen in over a century, was on a direct collision course with their most valuable asset in the north.
The sect master, Ning Fengzhi, a man who had become a true Titled Douluo in his own right, immediately convened an emergency meeting of his elders.
"This is not a natural occurrence," he had stated, his voice a low, grim sound, his usual calm, elegant composure replaced by a mask of cold, hard focus. "A monster tide of this magnitude, appearing so suddenly, so conveniently… it is an attack."
The other elders had agreed. But who was the attacker? The Spirit Hall? A rival clan? They had no evidence. They had no proof. They only had a single, overwhelming threat that was just hours away from destroying a mine that was worth billions of gold spirit coins.
They had no choice but to respond.
Elder Gu Chen, a massive, powerfully built man with a grim, determined look on his face, was dispatched immediately. He was a Level 87 Spirit Douluo, a powerhouse of the old guard. He was their strongest, and only, available expert in the north.
He flew from the sect, his Mountain-Moving Ape spirit a phantom of pure, earthen power around him, his mind a cold, hard landscape of duty and resolve. He knew he was flying into a trap. But it was a trap he had to spring. For the good of his sect.
He reached the secluded, winding mountain pass just as the sun was beginning to set. The air here was thin, cold, and unnaturally silent.
He slowed, his senses on high alert. He could feel it. The oppressive, suffocating weight of multiple, powerful auras, hidden in the shadows of the surrounding peaks.
He stopped, hovering in the center of the pass, a solitary, defiant figure against the backdrop of the dying sun.
"Show yourselves," he boomed, his voice a deep, resonant sound that echoed through the silent mountains. "I know you are here. Cowards who hide in the shadows."
And the shadows answered.
Seven figures descended from the peaks, their movements a silent, synchronized dance of death. They surrounded him, a perfect, inescapable cage of pure, overwhelming power.
He saw their faces. He saw the crackling, blue lightning that seemed to dance in their eyes. He saw the roaring, draconic phantoms that coiled around their powerful forms.
And he knew.
"The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan," he breathed, his voice a low, disbelieving whisper. "You dare?!"
Yu Luomian, the new wielder of the Hydra's Skull Bone, stepped forward, a cold, cruel smile on his face. He was flanked by his three equally powerful, and equally new, Titled Douluo brothers. And behind them, a silent, sorrowful, but no less deadly presence, stood three of the most powerful elders of the Clear Sky Sect.
Seven Titled Douluos. Against one Spirit Douluo.
It was not a battle. It was an execution.
"There is no need for words, Elder Gu," Yu Luomian said, his voice a low, final sound. "Surrender now, and we will make this painless. Resist… and we will break you."
Elder Gu just looked at them, at the overwhelming, insurmountable wall of power that stood before him. And he began to laugh.
It was not a laugh of fear. It was a laugh of pure, unadulterated, and utterly defiant fury.
"You think you have won?" he roared, his own, powerful Spirit Douluo aura exploding to life. "You think the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect is a clan of cowards who will simply surrender? You have made a grave mistake."
He knew he could not win. He knew he was going to die. But he would not die a coward. He would die a warrior of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect.
He charged.
The "battle" was a short, brutal, and ultimately, completely one-sided affair. It lasted less than a minute.
Elder Gu was a powerful Spirit Douluo. His Mountain-Moving Ape was a creature of immense, earth-shattering strength. But he was facing an army of Titled Douluo.
They did not kill him. Their goal was not his death. It was his capture.
They moved as one, a beautiful, terrifying symphony of draconic lightning and hammered steel. They broke his defenses. They shattered his spirit. And then, with a final, merciful blow to the back of his head, they rendered him unconscious.
They took his broken, unconscious body and, without a word, they vanished, melting back into the shadows from which they had come, leaving the silent, empty mountain pass as if they had never been there at all.
The monster tide, its unseen, agitating source now gone, slowly, gradually, began to dissipate, the beasts returning to their lairs, their brief, chaotic rampage a strange, unexplained anomaly in the quiet, peaceful history of the northern mountains.
The mine was safe.
But an elder of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect was gone.
And a new, secret, and very, very bloody war had just claimed its first victim.
~~
The grand, sun-drenched halls of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect, usually a place of quiet, elegant industry, were now filled with a low, simmering tension. A full three days had passed since the emergency report had arrived from the Heavenly Star Mountain Range. Three days since Elder Gu Chen had been dispatched.
And for three days, there had been nothing. Just a profound, unsettling silence.
Ning Fengzhi stood in his private study, a room filled with priceless antiques and ancient scrolls, his back to the two most powerful men in his clan. He stared out of the large, circular window, his gaze fixed on the distant, hazy mountains.
"Still no word?" he asked, his voice a low, calm sound that betrayed none of the cold knot of worry in his gut.
Behind him, Gu Rong, the Bone Douluo, let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh. "None, Sect Master," he said, his hoarse voice a quiet, respectful murmur. "We have tried to contact him through the long-range communication tools. There has been no reply. The garrison at the mine has also reported no sign of him. The beast tide… it dissipated almost as quickly as it appeared. But Elder Gu… he has vanished."
Chen Xin, the Sword Douluo, stood by the window, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression a mask of cold, sharp focus. He had not spoken a word for the past hour. But his presence, the sheer, overwhelming pressure of a Level 98 Hyper Douluo, was a silent, comforting anchor in the tense, uncertain room.
Ning Fengzhi turned from the window, his handsome, elegant face a mask of stone. He had aged in the past three days. The new, youthful vigor he had gained from his breakthrough to the Titled Douluo realm seemed to have been replaced by the old, familiar weight of a leader who was responsible for the lives of thousands.
"A minor beast raid," he said, his voice a low, bitter sound. "That was the report. A sudden, chaotic stampede of low-to-mid-level beasts. A nuisance, yes. A threat to the mine's production. But not… not a threat to a Level 87 Spirit Douluo."
He looked at the two powerful men before him, his eyes shining with a cold, hard, and deeply suspicious light. "Gu Chen is not a fool. He is a veteran of a hundred battles. He has faced beasts of far greater power. For him to be overwhelmed by a simple monster tide, to the point that he could not even send a single, simple message… it does not make sense."
"Perhaps he was careless," Gu Rong offered, his voice a low, hesitant sound. "Even the strongest of us can make a mistake."
"No," Chen Xin's voice was a sharp, final sound that cut through the air. He had not moved, but his gaze, which had been fixed on the distant mountains, now settled on Ning Fengzhi. "Gu Chen is not careless. And he is not weak. Something is wrong."
Ning Fengzhi nodded, a grim, determined look on his face. He had made his decision. "We are going," he announced, his voice a low, final command. "The three of us. Now. I will not sit here and wait for answers. I will go and find them myself."
The journey to the Heavenly Star Mountain Range was a silent, swift affair. Three figures, a trio of almost unimaginable power, shot through the sky like vengeful comets. They did not bother with carriages, or with roads. They simply flew, their speed a testament to their profound, almost divine, control over their own power.
They arrived at the remote, mountainous region in a matter of hours. The air here was thin, cold, and held the faint, lingering scent of beast and fear.
They did not go to the mine. They went to the place where the beast tide had been at its most ferocious. They flew over the vast, silent forests, their spiritual senses a wide, probing net that scanned every inch of the rugged, unforgiving landscape.
For hours, they found nothing. Just the tracks of the stampede, a wide, chaotic path of shattered trees and trampled earth.
And then, Chen Xin stopped. He hovered in the air, his gaze fixed on a small, secluded mountain pass below. "There," he said, his voice a low, grim sound.
They descended into the pass. The scene that greeted them was one of brutal, chaotic violence. The ground was torn, cratered, as if a hundred small battles had been fought here. The surrounding trees were shattered, their trunks splintered, their branches torn away. And the air… the air was thick with the scent of blood.
They found the bodies of dozens of spirit beasts, their corpses a testament to the ferocity of the battle that had taken place here. They were mostly low-level beasts, wolves, bears, apes, but their numbers were immense.
And in the center of the pass, they found the signs of a last, desperate stand. A large, circular area of the ground had been pulverized into dust, the signature of a powerful, earth-attribute Spirit Douluo unleashing his full, unrestrained power.
Gu Rong knelt, his long, skeletal fingers tracing a line in the dust. He picked up a small, torn fragment of cloth. It was a piece of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect's formal, elder robes.
"It was here," he said, his voice a low, somber sound. "He fought here. And he was… overwhelmed."
Ning Fengzhi stood in the center of the pass, his gaze sweeping over the scene of carnage. He saw the bodies of the beasts. He saw the signs of a desperate, final battle. He saw the evidence that all pointed to a single, simple, and tragic conclusion.
His elder, a powerful, respected Spirit Douluo, had been caught in a monster tide of unprecedented size and ferocity. And he had been torn apart.
But his mind, the sharp, analytical, and deeply, profoundly suspicious mind of a man who had built a commercial empire on the back of his own, peerless intellect, did not accept it.
'It is too perfect,' he thought, a cold, hard knot of doubt forming in his gut. 'Too clean. A hundred beasts? Two hundred? Gu Chen could have fought his way through a thousand. He was a power-attack type. His stamina was immense. And his greatest strength was not his offense, but his speed. The Mountain-Moving Ape spirit, when it reaches the Douluo realm, is not just a brute. It is a force of nature. He could have escaped. He should have escaped.'
He looked at the surrounding peaks, at the high, inaccessible cliffs that loomed over the pass. 'This is not an open field,' he mused. 'It is a trap. A natural bottleneck. A place where an army could be funneled, and destroyed. And a place where a single, powerful individual could be… cornered.'
He walked to the edge of the pass, his gaze scanning the silent, watching mountains. He saw no signs of another battle. He felt no residual auras of other, more powerful, combatants.
But he knew. He knew with a certainty that was as cold and as hard as the stone beneath his feet.
This was not a tragic accident. This was not a random act of nature.
This was an ambush. It was an assassination.
Elder Gu Chen had not been killed by a horde of mindless beasts. He had been captured. Or he had been murdered.
And the ones who had done it… they had been powerful. And they had been clever. They had used the monster tide as a cover, a perfect, natural explanation for the disappearance of a Spirit Douluo.
He looked at his two companions, at the sorrowful, grim expressions on their faces. They had accepted the story that the scene told.
He did not share his suspicions with them. Not yet. To do so without proof, without a single shred of evidence, would be to invite panic, to start a war based on a simple, gut feeling.
No. He would be patient. He would be clever. He would play their game.
He let out a long, slow, and incredibly, convincingly sorrowful sigh. "So, it is as we feared," he said, his voice a low, heartbroken sound. "He is gone."
He turned to his two guardians, his own face a mask of profound, regal grief. "We will recover what remains of him," he said, his voice a quiet, final command. "And we will give him a hero's funeral. The entire sect will mourn his loss."
He looked up at the silent, watching mountains, and his eyes, which had been filled with a deep, sorrowful sadness, now held a new, cold, hard, and utterly, completely, and unforgivingly murderous light.
'I will find you,' he vowed, his voice a silent, deadly promise in the quiet, empty pass. 'Whoever you are. I will find you. And I will make you pay a price a thousand times more painful than what you have done to my elder. To my family.'
~~
A/N: Check out my other novels like "Douluo Dalu: Time Travel", "Harem Master: Seduction System" and the "Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist" and I hope you like this story and those stories as well.
Check out more chapters on my P.atreon. The P.atreon will have 20+ Chapters ahead for this story. I hope you like it.
The link of p.atreon is: bit.ly/evildragon