Shrek Academy.
Zhu Zhuqing jolted awake, chest rising and falling with quick gasps.
She poured herself a glass of water, pulled on thin clothes, and sat quietly before the window.
"…It's him again."
Night after night, her dreams haunted her. Different scenes each time, but always the same figure. A boy carrying a black sword on his back, clutching a wine jar, eyes blurred by endless drunken haze.
Lucien.
Her thoughts drowned in chaos. Every time his shadow flickered across her mind, the life she lived here felt wrong.
Though Shrek Academy had only a handful of students, she could never integrate into them. Their cheer felt foreign, their camaraderie distant. Compared to that… she preferred her nights with Lucien.
A jar of wine between them, a shoulder to lean on, words spoken without pretense. His carefree life attitude—so ridiculous, yet… so alluring.
Her gaze drifted unconsciously toward the direction of Tiandou City.
…
Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Firecrackers exploded, red paper scattering through the courtyards.
The disciples laughed bitterly—half in joy, half in relief—as though celebrating New Year itself.
Because… the little devil was gone.
During the past few days of Lucien's stay, they had lived like hell. He raided the wine cellars, demanding disciples help him carry jars. When Sect Master and the elders went out to hunt a spirit ring for Ning Rongrong, Lucien stayed behind and "trained" them.
Trained? More like tormented.
If they didn't cooperate? Beaten.
Auxiliary masters forced onto the sparring stage, his war-spirit training routines pressed on them without mercy. In two days, they'd been broken to the point of trembling bladders.
Even the combat masters suffered worse. Lucien made himself "challenge master," forcing anyone who touched the stage to duel him twice. Those who resisted were hammered senseless.
Everyone soon realized. Lucien wasn't here to visit. He was here for payback.
No one dared resist. And strangely enough… their admiration grew even as fear strangled them.
Because who in the world would dare face Sword Douluo head-on? Who but this mad little devil?
Now he was gone.
Another volley of firecrackers burst. The sect sighed in relief.
…
On a mountain peak, Ning Fengzhi, Chen Xin, and Gu Rong stood together, watching his silhouette grow distant.
They all knew why Lucien departed so suddenly.
Because of his sword.
Whenever he stayed too long, Chen Xin's cultivation stagnated, his Martial Soul crushed under Lucien's oppressive aura. At most, he could wield only 80% of his strength. A private nightmare, and a public liability. For the sect, it was invisible but devastating.
That was why Lucien left.
"This brat," Gu Rong chuckled bitterly, "a few days ago he even asked for a large storage Soul Guidance Device—packed every jar of wine from the cellar on his way out!"
Chen Xin's eyelid twitched. "Impossible. He can't drink that much."
"During your absence, he trained disciples, you know," Gu Rong said.
"I know," Ning Fengzhi sighed tiredly. Both the outer and inner sect elders had rushed to complain to him after returning.
But even as he remembered their sobs, Fengzhi shook his head. "…I think Lucien's method has merit. His training was rough, but the results speak for themselves. Combat experience, toughness—it works. We can refine it, lessen the intensity, but the foundation was correct."
Chen Xin grunted. "Hmph. Try it, then."
…
On the road.
"Lucien Big Brother, I've already reached Soul Venerable. My third ability boosts spirit power!" Ning Rongrong skipped happily beside him, recounting her recent hunt.
"Now we're heading to the Soul Beast Forest…"
"Soul Beast Forest?" Lucien scratched his head. He'd only been once. After all, with the Dionysus system, he never needed to hunt spirit beasts for rings. The one time he had, he'd gotten a soul bone out of it.
Could it happen again?
He chuckled at his greed—then drank again.
"Gulp, gulp…"
…
Martial Soul City.
In the resplendent Papal Palace, glittering in a golden gown and crowned with purple-gold, Pope Bibi Dong reclined on the throne, legs crossed. Her jeweled scepter tapped softly on the floor.
"Have you confirmed the news of Lucien?" she asked coldly.
The report from Xingluo City had reached her immediately. Its contents had stunned her.
A twelve-year-old Soul Sect, drunk, defeating the Netherworld White Tiger, the Star Luo clan's vaunted fusion technique. Without even resorting to soul skills.
A monster. Such talent must not be ignored.
"Your Holiness, our reports confirm Lucien stayed at Seven Treasure Glazed Sect recently," the platinum bishop stammered nervously.
"What!" Bibi Dong sat upright, fury flashing in her eyes. "The Seven Treasure Glazed Sect acted fast—snatched up such a prodigy, and I didn't even hear of it?! What's Salas doing? What's Tiandou's Martial Soul Temple doing?!"
The scepter struck the marble floor, power crackling. The bishop broke into cold sweat.
"Under the Pope's crown", he stammered, "Lucien grew up in the Seven Treasure Glazed Sect before joining Tiandou's academy at eight. Ning Fengzhi deliberately concealed his existence from us. Even Salas couldn't have known."
"Hmph…" Bibi Dong's eyes narrowed. "So be it. This prodigy will change the balance of the Three Sects. A twelve-year-old Soul Sect… in time, a future Title Douluo. And he belongs to them."
Her knuckles whitened. The threat was clear.
…
Tiandou Royal Academy.
Through the academy gates, Lucien's unsteady figure staggered.
Ye Lingling dashed forward, her heart quickened. Rising on tiptoe, she pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. "Big Brother Lucien—welcome back."
"Humph."
"Humph."
Ning Rongrong and Ye Lingling immediately glared daggers at one another.
Lucien only smirked.
"Big Brother Lucien!" Lingling tugged his sleeve quickly. "I'm Soul Sect now. Will you take me to hunt my next soul ring?"
She had still not consumed the Eight-Petal Immortal Orchid gift he'd given. Stubborn pride and disbelief had stayed her hand—until she saw what the Qiluo Tulip had done for Rongrong. After that, she didn't hesitate.
Lucien thought a moment, then nodded. "Alright. We'll go to the forest."
When the request landed on Qin Ming's desk, he signed immediately—even gleefully.
Finally, relief! The storm had passed.
As his pen scratched, he laughed alone in his office, words spilling with joy:
"Go, go, Lu Yuan, take them away! Leave me peace! For once, my class can be normal again. Comfortable!"
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