Time Skip & Preparation for the Hunt
---
At fourteen, the boy who once quietly followed behind his grandfather had changed. His body had grown leaner, his movements sharper, and the quiet confidence in his amber eyes was no longer something that could be dismissed as youthful arrogance. At Rank 50, his soul power was as deep and steady as a mountain spring, and his control over both poison and space had reached a level even Dugu Bo admitted was frightening.
"Boy," Dugu Bo grumbled as they walked through the misty edges of the Poison Valley, "you've grown too fast. Even my old bones are starting to feel pressure when you release your aura."
A faint smirk tugged at the corners of the MC's lips. "You're just getting old, Grandpa."
Dugu Bo snorted but didn't retort. In truth, pride burned in his chest. His grandson had surpassed every expectation—stronger, sharper, and more disciplined than he could have imagined. What had once been a boy chasing after herbs in the poisonous marsh was now a powerhouse with four soul rings glowing faintly on his body, each carefully chosen and absorbed with precision.
Yanyan, now Rank 35, bounded up beside them, her ponytail swinging. "Grandpa! Brother! Are we finally going to hunt that scary fire-poison beast you mentioned? The one that makes the volcano smell like burned frog eggs?"
The MC pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's sulfur, Yanyan. Not frog eggs."
"It smells like frog eggs," she muttered under her breath, but her excitement couldn't be contained.
From a few steps behind, Lingling followed quietly. She had grown taller over the last two years, her usual calm and reserved demeanor untouched by time, though her eyes often drifted to the MC when she thought no one noticed.
Dugu Bo came to a stop near the poison pond. "Listen carefully, all of you," he said, voice sharp enough to silence even Yanyan's chattering. "Our target is a Fire-Poison Basilisk. It's nearly thirty thousand years old, lives in the volcanic ridge past the southern marsh. It's vicious, cunning, and won't hesitate to turn this hunt into a massacre if we get careless."
Yanyan gulped. Lingling's expression didn't change much, but her hands curled into her sleeves.
The MC crouched near the pond, collecting samples of herbs and minerals, his mind already calculating. "I've already prepared antidotes for the worst-case scenarios. Yanyan, yours is in the green vial; Lingling, blue. Grandpa, yours is—"
"Boy," Dugu Bo interrupted, his tone dry. "I've been dealing with poisons longer than you've been alive. I don't need your little pills."
The MC raised an eyebrow. "You also nearly keeled over last time because you underestimated that centipede king. Take the pill."
Dugu Bo muttered something under his breath but pocketed the vial anyway. Yanyan snickered.
Lingling, meanwhile, stepped forward, her voice soft but steady. "Do you really think this beast will be suitable for your fifth ring? It's… dangerous."
Meeting her eyes, the MC's expression softened. "It's exactly what I need. Its fire-poison core will perfectly balance my fourth ring's water-poison synergy. Don't worry—Grandpa and I will handle the main fight. You just stay behind me."
Her lips parted like she wanted to protest, but she nodded instead.
---
The journey to the volcanic ridge was grueling. The poisonous marsh gave way to cracked earth and jagged stones, the air growing hotter with every step. Sulfur and scorched metal stung their noses, and faint tremors ran beneath their feet, as if the earth itself resented their intrusion.
"Creepy place," Yanyan muttered, her usual cheer dampened.
"It's perfect," the MC said, eyes scanning the terrain. Pockets of poisonous gas mixed with vents of molten fire, an environment harsh enough to kill most beasts—but ideal for the Fire-Poison Basilisk to thrive.
Dugu Bo led them along a narrow ridge, his aura subtly repelling weaker creatures that slithered in the shadows. "Stay sharp. The basilisk's territory starts past that ridge. It's territorial and smarter than most beasts its age. If we're lucky, we can lure it out before it senses us."
As they set up a temporary camp to rest, Lingling quietly approached the MC, offering him a water flask. "You've been too quiet," she said softly.
He glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Just planning. This fight… it's going to be rough. I need to make sure no one gets hurt."
For a moment, her eyes lingered on him, something unspoken flickering there. "Just… don't push yourself too far."
"I won't," he lied, because he knew the risk he would take when absorbing a ring of this caliber.
---
That night, as the poisonous winds howled through the valley, they reviewed the plan one last time. Dugu Bo would pin the basilisk and suppress its strongest strikes, the MC would exploit openings with teleportation and poison synergy, and Yanyan would act as backup. Lingling, though reluctant, would stay farther back to provide healing and support if things went south.
The MC tightened the straps of his gloves and checked the small vials of poison antidotes strapped to his belt. His gaze drifted toward the distance, where faint red light pulsed against the horizon—the beast's lair.
His fifth ring was waiting.
---
The Hunt Begins – Battle with the Fire-Poison Basilisk
By the time they reached the mouth of the volcanic canyon, the air shimmered with heat.
The ground trembled faintly beneath their boots, a warning that the beast was near.
Molten streams carved paths through the cracked stone, hissing where they met the toxic runoff from underground veins.
"Stay close," Dugu Bo ordered, his voice carrying easily even in the thick air.
He extended his aura just enough to mask their presence, suppressing their scents from the beast's heightened senses.
The MC knelt, his fingers brushing over a patch of melted rock, still warm.
"Fresh," he murmured. "It was here less than an hour ago."
Yanyan fidgeted beside him, her hands gripping the straps of her small dagger sheath.
"Brother… are you sure you need this one? It feels… wrong here."
Lingling, silent until now, glanced around the scorched terrain.
The usual calm in her eyes was sharper now, edged with worry.
"This isn't like the other hunts," she said quietly. "Be careful."
The MC smiled faintly but didn't answer. Instead, he straightened and motioned toward a nearby rock formation.
"This will be our fallback point if things go bad. Grandpa, I'll set up markers here to keep the area safe."
The plan went smoothly until the earth shifted.
A deep rumble tore through the canyon, followed by a hiss so loud it seemed to pierce the bones.
From the far end of the gorge, a massive silhouette slithered forward.
The Fire-Poison Basilisk was enormous—easily forty meters long, its body a twisting coil of molten-red scales streaked with black toxin veins.
Its eyes burned with a cunning intelligence, locking immediately on the intruders.
"Step back!" Dugu Bo barked, his aura flaring to full force. The oppressive might of a Titled Douluo slammed down on the canyon, halting the beast mid-advance.
But instead of fear, the basilisk hissed in defiance, its own killing intent rising to meet his.
"Bold," Dugu Bo muttered, narrowing his eyes.
"This one's got a temper."
The MC's rings flared around him—four glimmering halos in black, purple, and deep red.
"Grandpa, suppress its movements," he said, voice calm despite the tension.
"I'll cut off its retreat paths and start the poison saturation."
Yanyan's second ring pulsed, her agility buff shimmering faintly across her skin as she dashed to the fallback point to stand guard near Lingling.
The first clash shook the canyon.
Dugu Bo surged forward, his venomous aura wrapping the area like a suffocating fog.
The basilisk lunged, molten venom spraying from its fangs in a wide arc, only to be met by a wall of toxic mist that hissed and ate through the liquid midair.
The MC vanished in a blur—Chaos Step activated—reappearing on a ledge above the beast's massive head.
His second ring ignited, releasing concentrated poison clouds that slithered downward, seeping through the cracks in its scales.
But the basilisk wasn't slow.
With a violent twist, its tail lashed out, shattering the ledge and forcing him to teleport again, barely dodging the crushing blow.
"Don't get cocky, boy!" Dugu Bo snapped, his own poison striking in a lance of green that burned into the creature's flank.
"I'm not," the MC muttered, activating his fourth ring.
The ground around the basilisk darkened as Acidic Water surged from cracks in the earth, streams of bubbling liquid hissing as they wrapped around the beast's tail and lower body.
Where the acid touched, scales bubbled and peeled, releasing acrid smoke into the air.
The basilisk roared, thrashing violently, and the heat in the canyon spiked as flames erupted along its spine.
From the fallback point, Yanyan's eyes widened.
"Brother—!"
Lingling gripped her healing staff tightly, her usual calm breaking for a heartbeat as she saw the basilisk's aura flare dangerously.
The beast opened its jaws wide, a molten-red light building in its throat.
"Grandpa, now!" the MC shouted.
Dugu Bo's aura erupted, a massive serpent-shaped poison manifestation slamming into the basilisk's neck and forcing its aim skyward just as the beam of fire and venom unleashed.
The blast cut a swath through the canyon wall instead of the battlefield, molten rock raining down harmlessly into the streams below.
"Go for the eyes, boy!" Dugu Bo barked.
The MC didn't need to be told twice.
Teleporting above the beast again, he gathered his poison into a concentrated spike, the third ring's shadow augmentation cloaking his presence until the last possible second.
The strike landed true—right into the basilisk's left eye.
It shrieked, thrashing violently as poison spread through its neural pathways, slowing its movements.
Minutes dragged like hours as the coordinated assault wore the basilisk down.
The MC's acidic water gnawed at its scales, Dugu Bo's poison locked its regeneration, and every precise teleportation strike chipped away at its stamina.
Finally, with one last hiss, the beast collapsed, its body convulsing before going still.
The canyon went quiet, save for the hiss of cooling lava.
The MC landed lightly on the ground, his chest rising and falling in steady but heavy breaths.
His eyes scanned the massive corpse, already calculating the safest way to extract the soul ring.
Yanyan ran forward first, relief written all over her face.
"That was insane! You were like—whoosh, then bam!"
He ruffled her hair, earning an indignant squeak.
"It's done," he said quietly, but his gaze shifted to Lingling, who was still standing back, her expression unreadable.
Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the exhaustion faded, replaced by something softer.
She approached silently, stopping just close enough to murmur, "You scared me."
"I promised you I wouldn't push too far," he said.
"And I didn't. This was controlled."
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before she nodded, though her hands tightened slightly around her staff.
"Quit flirting, you brat," Dugu Bo's gruff voice cut through the moment.
"We've got work to do. That ring isn't going to absorb itself. And if you're not careful, it'll burn you from the inside out."
The MC smirked faintly, stepping toward the basilisk's core as his rings flared in preparation.
"This will take a while. Guard me."
As he sat cross-legged beside the beast, the world faded into the rhythmic hum of soul power.
The Fifth Ring – Awakening the Flame of Venom
The basilisk's corpse radiated a strange heat even in death, its body still crackling faintly with poison-laced embers.
The MC sat cross-legged beside the creature's massive head, eyes closed, body relaxed but focused.
The others instinctively gave him space—absorbing a beast of this level wasn't just dangerous, it was lethal if even the slightest mistake was made.
Dugu Bo paced in a slow circle, his sharp eyes scanning the terrain.
"Keep your senses sharp," he muttered. "Even dead, a beast of this caliber leaves a presence. Others might be drawn here."
Lingling stood just behind him, hands clasped tightly on her staff. Her calm face betrayed a hint of tension; her gaze never strayed from the boy at the center of the ritual.
The soul ring shimmered into existence above the basilisk's cooling corpse, its deep crimson hue tinged with fiery gold—a mark of a creature that had merged dual elements in life.
Slowly, the ring descended, hovering just above the MC's head before sinking into his body.
The world went silent.
Then came the pain.
The venomous heat surged through his veins like molten lead, colliding with his own poison-filled meridians.
It was as though his entire body was burning from the inside while drowning in acid at the same time.
His vision blurred.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
But through it all, his spirit will held firm.
Control it. Don't let it control you.
Bit by bit, he directed the raging energy through his channels, weaving it into harmony with his existing rings:
The first ring thrummed with a subtle rhythm, strengthening his body's resilience.
The second ring pulsed steadily, accepting the basilisk's venom and merging with his existing poison mastery.
The third and fourth rings flared, stabilizing the chaotic elemental fusion with shadow and acid water, guiding the fire-poison energy to settle rather than burn uncontrollably.
Minutes stretched into an eternity, but at last, the raging storm quieted.
The ring solidified into place, its crimson glow settling into the array above his body.
"Successful," Dugu Bo murmured, the barest hint of pride flickering across his face.
"Brat's got better control than I expected."
Lingling let out a quiet breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her hands trembled slightly before she steadied them against her staff.
When the MC finally opened his eyes, the gold-tinged crimson glow lingered faintly before fading back to his usual calm gaze.
He rose slowly, testing his balance, then flexed his fingers.
The raw power coursing through his veins felt… different. Potent. Controlled. Dangerous.
"What's the new skill?" Dugu Bo demanded, crossing his arms.
The MC closed his eyes briefly, feeling the flow of soul power through his new ring.
When he spoke, his voice carried a quiet edge of awe.
"Venomous Inferno."
He raised his hand, and the air shimmered above his palm.
A swirling orb of molten flame materialized—fire, but laced with a poisonous green sheen that radiated lethal intent.
As it hovered, thin threads of corrosive liquid dripped from the edges, sizzling as they hit the scorched ground.
"It burns," he murmured, testing the flow. "Not just the body, but the soul. And the venom… it lingers. Even if the flame doesn't kill, the poison will finish the job."
Dugu Bo's eyes narrowed, but a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Not bad. With control, that could rival a high-tier Titled Douluo technique in the future."
Yanyan clapped her hands together, eyes wide with excitement.
"Brother, that was amazing! You're getting scarier every time you hunt a new beast."
The MC gave her a faint smile. "And you'll catch up. I'll make sure of it."
But when he turned toward Lingling, the smile softened into something quieter.
Her eyes were still locked on the fading flames, but when she met his gaze, there was something unreadable there.
"You're reckless," she said softly, her voice steady but quiet.
"You let that power burn too close to your core. If you'd slipped even once—"
"But I didn't," he said, stepping closer. His tone wasn't sharp, but it carried the unspoken certainty of someone who knew his limits.
"I knew you were here. I wouldn't risk making you watch me die."
For a moment, neither of them moved.
The heat of the canyon around them faded into the background, leaving only the steady hum of their soul power between them.
Then Lingling looked away, her cheeks tinged faintly pink as she murmured, "…Idiot."
Dugu Bo cleared his throat loudly.
"Enough of that nonsense. Pack up. The ring's stable, the area's compromised, and I don't feel like playing tour guide for whatever's sniffing around that explosion you two caused."
That Evening – At Camp
By the time they set up camp a safe distance from the canyon, the adrenaline had faded, leaving only the quiet hum of the forest night.
The stars glittered faintly above, a rare clear sky unmarred by volcanic haze.
Yanyan was already asleep, curled up near the fire with a blanket tucked around her shoulders.
Dugu Bo sat a little apart, eyes closed but not truly resting, his aura spread just enough to sense anything approaching.
The MC sat by the edge of the camp, idly letting threads of his new skill dance across his fingers—tiny flickers of poisonous flame that burned but didn't harm his skin.
He was testing its control, letting the soul power settle fully.
Lingling approached quietly, the soft crunch of leaves barely audible.
"You're pushing yourself again," she said, her tone more observation than scolding.
He glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Not pushing. Learning. It's the only way to master it."
She hesitated, then sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed.
For a moment, they simply sat in silence, the fire crackling softly behind them.
"…It suits you," she said finally, her eyes fixed on the flickering flames in his hand.
"This power. Dangerous, but controlled. Like you."
His smile deepened slightly, and he turned his gaze to her.
"Then I'll make sure to keep it that way. For you."
Lingling didn't reply, but the faint warmth in her expression said enough.
Return, Family Bonds, and the Masked Alchemist
The forest thinned as they approached the outskirts of the city. The air was cooler here, the oppressive heat of the volcanic canyon replaced by the familiar crisp breeze of home. To most, it was an unremarkable return. But to the MC, every step forward felt like grounding—a reminder of why he endured the pain and danger.
Dugu Bo walked ahead, hands behind his back, his expression unreadable as always. Yanyan bounded beside him, her excitement impossible to contain as she recounted every detail of the hunt to anyone willing to listen.
"…and then Brother's flames went whoosh! and the beast just collapsed! You should've seen it, Grandpa! It was like the whole world froze for a second—"
Dugu Bo let out a soft grunt that could have been amusement or dismissal; it was hard to tell with him.
Lingling walked beside the MC, her usual calm mask firmly in place, but every so often her gaze flicked his way—subtle, almost imperceptible. He didn't comment, but he noticed. He always noticed.
Back Home
The familiar courtyard felt warmer than usual. Servants rushed to greet them, relief plain on their faces at the sight of the group returning unscathed.
Yanyan darted ahead, twirling in the center of the courtyard.
"Home! Finally, a bed that doesn't smell like sulfur!"
The MC smiled faintly at her antics before stepping into the main hall, where his parents waited.
His mother's eyes widened, immediately sweeping over him as though to check for injuries.
"You've grown again," she said softly, a mix of pride and worry in her tone. "And stronger."
His father's gaze, sharper and more assessing, lingered on him longer. Then, with a single approving nod, he said, "Good. You'll need that strength soon."
That night, the house was quiet save for the soft hum of crickets outside. After dinner, the MC found himself in the study with his father, stacks of scrolls and ledgers spread across the table.
"You're ready," his father said without preamble. "The auction in two weeks will be the largest this city has seen in years. Your… work… will fetch more attention than ever."
The MC leaned against the edge of the desk, arms folded.
"As long as it stays anonymous. I don't need more eyes on me yet."
His father's lips curved into the barest hint of a smirk.
"Of course. The 'Masked Alchemist' will remain a mystery. But power like yours doesn't stay hidden forever, son. Sooner or later, the world will take notice."
The MC didn't answer. He knew that. He just hoped it would happen on his terms, not someone else's.
The Auction House – Two Weeks Later
The grand hall buzzed with quiet excitement. Nobles, merchants, and powerhouses filled the private boxes, each trying to outbid the other for rare treasures. But nothing stirred more anticipation than the final lot of the night—the pills crafted by the mysterious alchemist known only as "Cipher."
From his concealed vantage point, the MC watched as the bidding war erupted, numbers skyrocketing to levels even his father hadn't predicted. Each pill sold for enough to buy an entire estate.
Beside him, Lingling watched silently, her expression unreadable. But when she finally turned to him, her voice was soft.
"You could change lives with this. Not just ours. Entire clans, sects… kingdoms."
He met her gaze, calm but unwavering.
"Maybe one day. For now, this is enough. Quiet growth. No unnecessary attention."
There was a pause, then a faint smile curved her lips.
"Low-key," she murmured, almost to herself. "Always low-key."
Quiet Days
The weeks that followed were a rare stretch of peace.
Mornings were spent refining his control over the fifth skill, Venomous Inferno, pushing its limits in both precision and power. The corrosive flames now burned brighter, hotter, and deadlier, able to melt through reinforced stone with terrifying efficiency.
Afternoons were for family—training with Yanyan, guiding her through bottlenecks in her cultivation, and sharing meals with his parents in the rare moments they could gather without interruption.
And evenings… evenings often found him with Lingling.
Sometimes they trained together in quiet synchrony, her healing skills complementing his offensive techniques in a seamless dance of precision and trust. Other times, they simply walked the gardens in silence, the steady rhythm of shared breaths and unspoken understanding enough to fill the space between them.
It wasn't loud, or obvious, or rushed. But it was there—steady, growing, inevitable.
One evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the sky in streaks of gold and crimson, Lingling spoke first.
"You've changed," she said, her voice calm but thoughtful.
He glanced at her, brow raised.
"How so?"
"You used to carry everything alone. Every burden, every risk. Now…" She hesitated, then met his gaze with quiet certainty.
"Now you let me stand beside you. Even if you don't say it out loud."
The MC was quiet for a moment, then allowed the faintest of smiles to tug at his lips.
"Maybe I just got tired of pretending I don't need anyone."
Lingling's lips curved into a rare, soft smile.
"Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."
Arrival at the Academy
The academy loomed like a fortress of knowledge and power, its towering walls casting long shadows across the bustling courtyard. Students of all ages milled about, their uniforms crisp, their conversations filled with energy and anticipation.
For most, this was the start of a journey.
For the MC, Yanyan, and Lingling, it was simply the next step.
Their arrival did not go unnoticed. Whispers followed them like ripples in a pond—rumors of the prodigy who had already reached rank 50 before his thirteenth birthday, the quiet girl whose healing skills rivaled veterans, and the spirited Yanyan, whose potential was said to be boundless.
But the MC ignored it all. His steps were steady, his gaze forward, his aura restrained. Low-key—that was how he intended to stay.
Special Class Placement
It took less than a week for the academy to "evaluate" them.
The examiners tried subtlety at first—simple tests of physical ability, spirit control, and tactical thinking. But when even the senior instructors realized the depths of their strength, the academy made its decision.
"Special Class," the instructor announced, his voice carrying through the crowded hall. "Effective immediately."
Gasps rippled through the other students. Some were awed. Others, jealous.
Yanyan grinned as they walked out of the hall, nudging her brother.
"Special class, huh? Guess we're officially 'elite' now."
He only shook his head.
"Titles don't matter. What we do with this chance does."
Lingling, walking quietly beside them, smiled faintly but said nothing.
Meeting the Team
The special class wasn't large—only seven students in total.
Among them was Ye Lingling, the calm and soft-spoken girl with the Nine Heart Begonia, whose healing ability was as rare as it was coveted. She greeted Lingling with polite warmth but studied the MC with quiet curiosity.
Then there was Yu Tianheng, proud and sharp-eyed, his Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon spirit crackling faintly with restrained power. His interest in Yanyan was immediate and obvious, though it earned him nothing more than a polite smile from her—and a quiet, dangerous narrowing of the MC's eyes.
The rest of the team was a mix of personalities—steady, sharp, brash—but all undeniably talented.
The instructors wasted no time integrating them, pushing the team into joint exercises designed to build cohesion.
Early Tension
It didn't take long for friction to surface.
During a sparring exercise, Tianheng directed one too many comments toward Yanyan, his tone casual but tinged with something more.
The MC stepped forward, his expression deceptively calm.
"She's here to train, not entertain."
Tianheng smirked, unbothered.
"And I'm just being friendly. No harm in that, is there?"
Before the situation could escalate, Lingling stepped in with a quiet but firm,
"We should focus on the exercise. The instructors are watching."
It was enough to break the tension, but not the silent warning in the MC's eyes.
Growing Bonds
Over the weeks, the team began to find a rhythm.
The MC's calm precision balanced Yanyan's fiery enthusiasm. Lingling's steady support reinforced their strikes, while Ye Lingling's healing ensured they could push further in training without fear of lasting injury.
Even Tianheng, prideful as he was, began to respect the quiet strength the MC displayed—not flashy, not boastful, but undeniable.
Evenings often found the group sharing quiet meals or light banter after long sessions. It wasn't friendship, not quite, but the foundation of something close.
Lingling and the Quiet Moments
Despite the growing camaraderie, some moments remained private.
Late one evening, after a particularly grueling training session, Lingling found the MC by the lake behind the academy grounds, the moonlight catching faint traces of his aura as he practiced his control.
"You push yourself too hard," she said softly.
He didn't turn immediately.
"And you don't push yourself enough," he countered, though his tone lacked its usual edge.
She stepped closer, her presence steady and calm.
"I don't need to. Because I trust you to carry us when it matters."
That quiet admission lingered in the air, heavier than either expected.
For a long moment, neither spoke. Then, finally, the MC turned, a faint, almost reluctant smile breaking through.
"…Just don't expect me to carry you all the time."
Lingling's lips curved in the faintest of smiles.
"Good. Because I don't plan to let you."