The air in the Spirit Pagoda's inner sanctum was thick with unspoken tension. Qiangu Dongfeng, the man who held the fate of the continent's soul masters in his hands, stared at his grandson with a mix of exhaustion and grudging respect. He felt a sharp knot in his chest—a realization that he, the Pagoda Master, was being played like a fiddle by a six-year-old.
"Fine," Dongfeng finally snapped, his voice echoing against the cold, metallic walls. "You want to walk the path of the Ultimate Single Soul Spirit? I will grant you the resources. But I am not a fool, Zhangting."
He stepped closer, his shadow looming large. "Conditions. First, a time limit: twelve years. If your first soul spirit hasn't shattered the hundred-thousand-year barrier by the time you turn eighteen, you will abandon this madness. Second, your second soul spirit will be chosen by me. No arguments. No negotiations."
Zhangting didn't blink. A faint, triumphant smile touched his lips. "Thank you, Grandfather. I wouldn't have it any other way."
He knew that without Dongfeng's signature, the high-level Spirit Ascension Platforms and restricted treasures would be out of reach. He had cleared the highest hurdle. Now, it was time to claim his prize.
He walked past the standard 'Evil-Breaking Dragon' seals and stopped before a containment unit that emitted a strange, distorted violet light. Inside, a cluster of tentacles and a singular, pulsating golden pupil stared back.
The Thousand-Year Evil Eye Tyrant.
Dongfeng's brow twitched violently. "An Evil Eye Tyrant? Zhangting, have you lost your mind? Your Spirit is the Coiling Dragon Rod—the pinnacle of explosive physical strength and raw power. This is a mental-attribute beast! It's a complete mismatch. Even if you evolve it to a hundred-thousand-year level, its synergy with your rod will be pathetic. A ten-thousand-year dragon would serve you better than this floating eye!"
But Zhangting had already snatched the spirit tool. He didn't stay to listen to the nagging.
"I'm going to see Elder Han!" he shouted over his shoulder, his small body moving with the agility of a lightning bolt. "He's the expert on the Ultimate Single Soul Spirit project. I'll need a recommendation letter, Grandfather! Don't forget to send it!"
Before Dongfeng could roar in frustration, the boy was gone.
The Mind of the Body Martial Soul
Zhangting sprinted through the labyrinthine corridors of the Spirit Pagoda until he reached the restricted 'Mental Research Wing.' This was the domain of Han Tianyi, the Heavenly Spirit Douluo.
Han Tianyi was a legend. His spirit was a Body Martial Soul—the Brain. His mental force had reached the peak of the Spirit Domain Realm, a level of cognitive power so vast that even Zhangting's Quasi-God grandfather couldn't match him in pure psychic calculation.
When Zhangting burst into the room and explained his choice, the Elder didn't mock him. He simply stared at the pulsating violet eye in the containment jar.
"An Evil Eye Tyrant with nine elemental attributes," Han Tianyi whispered, his voice like dry parchment. "You chose the one specimen in our entire treasury that everyone else was too afraid to touch. Why?"
Zhangting took a deep breath. He knew he had to speak the language of a researcher to win over this man.
"Elder Han, you know as well as I do: the talent of an Evil Eye Tyrant is the only one that can be mathematically quantified. In history, those who followed the Ultimate Single Soul Spirit path failed because they couldn't control the beast's evolution. But the Tyrant is different. Its strength is inversely proportional to its elemental attributes."
Han Tianyi nodded slowly. He himself used an Evil Eye Tyrant. He understood the secret: the beast's body inherits mental force, but its elemental attributes often 'dilute' its potential.
"Generations of Spirit Pagoda research," Zhangting continued, his eyes gleaming with a manic intensity, "have proven we can 'extract' those attributes. We pull the elemental powers into the spirit rings as skills, leaving the core soul spirit as a pure, concentrated psychic entity. The fewer elements the core has, the higher its ceiling for growth."
Han Tianyi clicked his tongue. "Logic is sound. But Zhangting... look at what you hold. This specimen has nine elements. Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Light, Darkness, Space, Lightning, and Time. Even if we extract six of them into your rings, the core remains a 'triple-attribute' beast. It's mediocre. It's neither a pure psychic god nor a master of elements."
He leaned in, his Spirit Domain mental force putting immense pressure on the room. "To make this work, you would need to extract all nine. You would need to push this single spirit to provide nine rings—a feat only achieved once in history by a twin-spirited sage. And you only have one spirit."
"Exactly," Zhangting said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I don't want to follow the path of the past. I want to build something that hasn't existed since the ancient era. I want a pure mental-core Evil Eye Tyrant that controls nine elements through its rings."
Han Tianyi's breath hitched. "You want to create something more powerful than the Evil Emperor."
The Evil Emperor. The second-ranked Savage Beast of legend. A pure mental-type whose 'Light of Time and Space' could wound even the Beast God Di Tian.
"If I succeed," Zhangting's voice was cold and certain, "this soul spirit won't just fire a Light of Time and Space. It will fire a version backed by nine elemental laws. It will be the ultimate weapon."
Chapter 4: The Path of the Madman
"Success is nearly impossible," Han Tianyi stated, though a spark of excitement was finally catching in his eyes. "To reach the five-ring stage with a single soul spirit of this caliber, your mental force must hit the Spirit Abyss Realm while you are still a child. Your physique must be tempered until it can withstand the pressure of a hundred-thousand-year ring before you even reach adulthood. The resources required... the pain involved..."
"I know," Zhangting interrupted. "But I have the Qiangu family. I have the Spirit Pagoda. And most importantly, I have the knowledge of what happens to those who play it safe."
He looked at his hands, small and seemingly weak, but containing the soul of a man who knew the future.
"In this era, spirit rings aren't the only source of power," Zhangting argued. "I can make up for the lack of early-stage ring variety with Battle Armor, self-created soul skills, and the family's secret combat techniques. I am willing to sacrifice my early-stage flexibility to ensure that when I reach the top, there is no one—not even Shrek—who can stand before me."
Han Tianyi looked at the boy—a six-year-old child talking about sacrificing his youth for the sake of absolute dominance. It was chilling. It was arrogant. It was exactly what the Spirit Pagoda needed.
"Grandfather thinks I'm gambling," Zhangting said, looking up at the Heavenly Spirit Douluo. "But a gamble is when you don't know the outcome. I know exactly what I'm building. I'm not just choosing a soul spirit, Elder Han. I'm choosing my throne."
Han Tianyi let out a short, bark-like laugh. "The Qiangu family... you truly are a breed of monsters. Fine. If the Pagoda Master provides the recommendation, I will take you as my last disciple. We will begin the tempering process. But be warned, Zhangting: the path of the Extreme Single Soul Spirit is paved with the bones of geniuses who thought they were special."
"Let them be my foundation then," Zhangting replied.
As the violet light of the Evil Eye Tyrant reflected in his pupils, Zhangting knew the first stone of his new empire had been laid. He wasn't going to be the clown of the story. He was going to be the nightmare that Shrek Academy never saw coming.