Malai City, an obscure little city in the East Sea.
BOOM!!!
A heaven-shaking, earth-shattering explosion detonated without warning.
The earth trembled, and the heavens changed color.
A fire-attribute level-eight fixed-guidance spirit tool shell detonated in the center of the city, its scorching glare and terrifying shockwave instantly sweeping across half the city.
Malai City’s proud federal mecha legion didn’t even have time to mount a decent resistance before crumbling in the blinding sea of fire, turning into twisted scrap metal.
“Hehehe… Wail to your heart’s content! Tremble!”
Before the smoke had dissipated, countless dark figures surged out.
Without exception, they were all Evil Soul Masters!
The Titled Douluo leading them, Blood Baron, stood suspended in mid-air, a fanatical light flashing in his eyes.
Under his command, the countless Evil Soul Masters rushed into the city like vicious wolves, beginning a frenzied, indiscriminate massacre.
For a time, screams and cries of despair pierced the sky.
Black resentment and crimson blood light soared into the sky; the Evil Soul Masters greedily harvested lives, forcibly smelting the souls and resentment of the living.
Blood stained the streets red; the once peaceful Malai City had thoroughly devolved into a living hell in a very short time.
“Fight these beasts to the death!”
“Wait for federal reinforcements! Hold on!”
The few remaining powerful Soul Masters in the city stared with eyes splitting from rage, one after another releasing their Martial Soul and spirit tools to fight the Evil Soul Masters.
However, the Evil Soul Masters were well-prepared, their methods cruel and their trump cards endless.
Blood Baron didn’t even make a move himself, merely hanging high in the sky, savoring the crimson blood light.
The number of defenders kept dwindling; everyone was struggling to hold on, hoping for federal reinforcements.
But as time ticked by, there was no sign of any federal reinforcements in the night sky, only the glare of explosions.
The great fire burned for an entire night.
When the first ray of dawn pierced through the thick haze to shine upon the earth, the great battle had ended.
Having obtained enough resentful souls, the Evil Soul Masters receded like the tide, leaving behind only a hellish ruin.
Only then did the roar of spirit tool fighter jets arrive from the distant horizon.
The federal reinforcements had finally arrived, albeit belatedly.
But Malai City as it was now ceased to exist.
Looking out, it was a scene of utter devastation; the entire city was charred black, with wisps of black smoke rising from the ruins and broken walls.
In a city of hundreds of thousands, less than one in ten survived.
The air was filled with a pungent, bloody stench and the dead air of despair.
The Malai Orphanage, a place once filled with laughter and joy.
Now, only a pile of collapsed rubble remained.
Atop the ruins, Mo Fan stood blankly, his eyes hollow.
All around were embers that had not yet fully extinguished, black smoke filled the air along with a pungent charred smell, and his body was covered in ash.
Today was supposed to be the day he awakened his Martial Soul at age six, a grand festival for every child on the Douluo Continent to step into a new stage of life.
The old director of the orphanage had been talking about it just a few days ago, wanting to cook him a delicious meal with her own hands to celebrate his awakening.
But now, everything was gone.
Those familiar faces, those companions he had lived with day and night, were all buried beneath this cold rubble.
Grief, fear, anger, bewilderment—all kinds of extreme emotions intertwined, forming an indescribable, intense shock that violently slammed against his will.
“Hum—”
A violent roar suddenly echoed in his mind, as if an invisible seal had been forcibly shattered by this intense stimulation.
Countless fragmented images flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern: it was a World without Soul Masters, yet one with magic, high-rise buildings, neon lights, countless demons flooding into the city, the same ruins, the same scene of hell.
The blood-red alert of Bo City, the undead catastrophe of the Ancient Capital, the sea monster crisis that lasted for years in various coastal base cities…
That was the path he had come from!
The memories of two lifetimes completely merged at this moment.
Mo Fan’s hollow eyes suddenly focused, as if a Vermillion Bird of Holy Feathers had been reborn from the ashes; an unparalleled determination instantly pierced through the haze before him.
He remembered now; he was the Magic God Mo Fan, the highest peak of the magic World.
With all-element Forbidden Spells, he possessed unparalleled divine might; any high-level Emperor or World ruler was beaten into submission by him, never daring to provoke humanity again.
And even so, his strength had not stopped growing.
All-element Forbidden Spells combined with fusion techniques meant he inevitably evolved toward omnipotence, his strength far surpassing the previous second at every moment.
Even without active cultivation, those divine insights that Forbidden Spell mages found difficult to comprehend were actively merging into his mind, allowing him to achieve enlightenment on several World-destroying divine spells in a single second.
Omnipotence meant that everything was meaningless.
At the last moment, Mo Fan had a sudden realization, self-dissolved into the heavens and earth, and used a forbidden technique—fate reincarnation!
“Douluo Continent, Martial Soul, Soul Power, spirit tool, Evil Soul Master…” Mo Fan muttered to himself, digesting the memories, and instantly understood everything.
“It seems that no matter which World it is, there is never a shortage of these disgusting vermin.” He clenched his fists, rage burning fiercely in his eyes.
Once he regained his strength, he would definitely wipe out all Evil Soul Masters in the World!
“A good look in your eyes.”
Suddenly, a gentle yet dignified voice arrived.
Mo Fan was startled inside and turned his head abruptly, only to see two figures descending from the sky at some unknown time.
The leader was a man with sword-like eyebrows and star-like eyes, dressed in white as snow.
As he stood with his hands behind his back, the spatial fluctuations autonomously subsided.
Beside him was a woman like an angel, extremely beautiful in appearance, with a holy and gentle temperament, her whole body emitting a faint golden light that made people feel peaceful.
Heavenly Limit Douluo Yun Ming watched this child quietly.
Malai City had been massacred; the survivors were all scared out of their wits, weeping bitterly, but this child before him, though his eyes held grief, held even more hatred!
What surprised him even more was that he could vaguely sense that this child’s mental force was extraordinarily vast, even faintly rejected by the laws of the World.
“Poor child…” Holy Spirit Douluo Yali looked at Mo Fan, who was covered in ash and standing alone, a deep pity flowing in her beautiful eyes.
She sighed softly, took a light step to arrive in front of Mo Fan, raised her delicate hand, and a gentle Soul Power of the Angel of Prayer enveloped Mo Fan like a spring breeze, healing all the places where he had been scratched by the ruins.
Mo Fan felt that warm energy, and his originally tense body relaxed.
As a dignified Magic God, being comforted by a woman rubbing his head like a helpless child made him feel somewhat strange.
However, looking at the woman in front of him who radiated maternal and holy brilliance, Mo Fan grinned frankly: “Big Sister Soul Master, you are really beautiful, like a fairy.”
Holy Spirit Douluo Yali was slightly stunned, then amused, her internal sadness diluted a bit.
She stroked his head and said: “Little one, you have quite the sweet tongue. Don’t worry, with Big Sister here, you will be fine.”