“Now, Yue’er, do you remember what to say?” Xu Xuandong adjusted his posture, looking critically at the exact copy of himself standing in the center of his bedchamber.
Ying Yue—the gentle, soft-spoken girl gifted to him on his seventh birthday—slowly smoothed down the fabric of the Crown Prince’s royal robes.
Thanks to a high-grade Self-Disguise Scroll, every detail of her appearance, from her facial structure down to the posture of her shoulders, mirrored Xuandong with frightening precision.
She offered a obedient nod, her voice shifting into a near-flawless match of his tone.
“Yes, Master.
If someone comes to the door, I should respond that I am busy with deep soul tool research.
If Lady Xu Mie’er comes, I should say immediately: ‘If you have time to bother me, why don’t you go find a husband?
You only have a few cycles left.'” Xuandong smirked.
“Good.
And if Xu Xia comes?” “I should tell her the silver wolf pup is lost,” Ying Yue continued without missing a beat.
“If Xu Ying comes, I should just spit on her.
And if anyone invites me to eat, I should tell them I am on a strict diet.” “Perfect!” Xuandong clapped his hands together with profound satisfaction.
“You will stay inside my room at all times.
You are only allowed to step outside once a week to maintain appearances.
Keep the curtains drawn and act like a proper shut-in genius.” Ying Yue bowed respectfully.
“Understood, Master.” Satisfied with his body double, Xuandong retreated into a dark corner behind his screen.
With a quiet pulse of his soul power, he activated his Druid class feature—Wild Shape.
His form shrank rapidly, his limbs reforming until a sleek, agile dark cat dropped softly onto the carpet.
Leaping out through the top window latch, the cat slipped along the roof tiles.
Spotting a small songbird perched near the eaves, Xuandong paused and let out a soft, low meow infused with Speak with Animals.
“If anyone comes to my residence ,” the cat purred to the bewildered bird, “drop an air strike on them.” The songbird blinked, tilted its small head, and gave a sharp, resolute nod.
With his perimeter defense locked down, Xuandong bounded across the grand tiled roofs of the Sun Moon Imperial Palace, dissolving into the shadowy treeline surrounding the capital without leaving a single trace behind.
A few days of continuous travel later, Xu Xuandong stood before the looming, metallic-hued canopy of the Great Sun Moon Forest.
The dense leaves shimmered under the afternoon light, radiating a subtle elemental pressure.
“Finally made it,” Xuandong muttered, returning to his human form and stretching his sore shoulders.
He unclasped his spatial storage device and began a quick inventory check.
“Scrolls, check.
Hand grenades, check.
Grade 4 backup soul tools, check.” He nodded to himself.
“First goal: tame a monkey spirit beast or something similar for easier aerial navigation through the canopy.” Before he could take three steps into the underbrush, a soft rustling beneath his boots made him pause.
He looked down.
Emerging from the soil was a single blade of vibrant, vein-patterned Blue Silver Grass.
“Hello there, buddy” Xuandong greeted casually, crouching down to eye level with the plant.
“How’s the weather down here today?
Hopefully you’re getting enough sunlight?” To any passing soul master, a royal prince talking to a common blade of grass would look like absolute insanity.
But under the influence of his Druid class, the Blue Silver Grass wiggled its blade in an ecstatic, dancing motion, radiating a pure feeling of joy.
Bending its stem sharply, the grass pointed off toward a deep, misty ridge to the west.
Xuandong raised an eyebrow.
“Over there?
Alright, lead the way.” As he followed the trailing blades of grass that bent in sequence to mark a path, Xuandong pondered his current power ceiling.
his max-level 12 character in Baldur’s Gate 3 possessed enough spell slots, legendary gear, and tactical bullshit to wipe most Titled Douluo off the floor.
But the real him in this world was still just a one-ring Soul Master at Rank 20.
Even stacked with his passive class buffs, scrolls, and versatility, at most he could hold his own against a standard three-ring Spirit Elder.
And if he ran into a core member of Shrek Academy at the Spirit Elder level?
At best, he could only force a tactical stalemate before his soul power ran dry.
Thinking of survival margins naturally brought his mind back to the terrifying incident with Zhongli Wu.
It had happened the day before his seventh birthday.
His Alert feat—a passive instinct that rendered him immune to surprise attacks—had nagged at his consciousness like an incessant, prickling itch.
Unlike a typical naive protagonist who would shrug off their instincts and assume they were just imagining things, Xuandong had immediately respected his game mechanics.
He didn’t hesitate.
He spent his available resources to respec his secondary class into Wizard, choosing the Divination subclass.
Using Portent and divine scrying, he cast his mind into the immediate future.
What he saw made his blood run completely cold.
Zhongli Wu, the grand leader of the Holy Spirit Cult, was preparing to secretly infect Xu Xuandong and the entire imperial family with a creeping, invisible death aura—a silent curse that would rot their meridians and kill them within three days.
His uncle, Prince Xu Gongfeng, would have wiped the bloodline clean and effortlessly pinned the blame on Hall Master Kong Deming to seize the throne.
Xuandong hadn’t hesitated for a single second.
He immediately contacted Guardian Ye Guan and Hall Master Kong Deming, laying out the precise threat.
Realizing the existential danger to the empire, Kong Deming brought Duke Yang into the loop.
Using Xuandong’s extensive ‘rat network’—a web of city rodents he had bound with Druid magic to act as invisible spies—combined with the exact visual location provided by his Divination spell, they pinpointed the exact courtyard Zhongli Wu would be hiding in.
At Xuandong’s request, Kong Deming personally deployed a stealth-configured Grade 9 Sealing Soul Tool around the perimeter.
A couple of hours later, Zhongli Wu stepped into the courtyard, only to freeze in utter confusion.
Sitting in the center of the empty space was the six-year-old Crown Prince, casually resting on a cheap, white plastic Monobloc Chair with his back completely turned, lazily farming aura.
Before the cult leader could even react to the absurd sight, the ground beneath him erupted with complex silver runes, activating the Grade 9 seal and locking his meridians in place.
Zhongli Wu roared, desperately attempting to force his Martial Soul out, but Duke Yang stepped from the shadows, instantly unleashing a high-level debuff soul skill alongside a Scroll of Sunbeam provided directly by Xuandong.
The blinding, concentrated solar beam hit Zhongli Wu point-blank, stunning the Rank 98 Evil Soul Master in a agonizing flash of radiant heat.
Without missing a beat, Xuandong transformed his Dark Age Technology martial soul into the Devotee’s Mace—a legendary divine weapon sitting in his game inventory—and tossed it straight to Senior Ye Guan.
Holding a holy artifact that resonated perfectly with his Holy Angel bloodline, Ye Guan unleashed his full, unbridled power as a Rank 96 Super Douluo.
A pillar of divine, unblemished light descended from the heavens.
In less than three seconds, Zhongli Wu was completely smitten, turning into a pile of drifting black dust.
Just like that, the supreme leader of the largest, most terrifying Evil Soul Master organization on the continent was wiped off the face of the earth.
Naturally, the aftermath had been a nightmare of a different kind.
Kong Deming and Ye Guan hadn’t stopped bothering him ever since.
Kong Deming was practically begging to study all the ‘legendary weapons’ stored inside Xuandong’s martial soul to advance the empire’s core array research.
Meanwhile, Ye Guan kept bugging him to hold the Devotee’s Mace again because he swore he could ‘feel the presence of the Angel God’ radiating from its hilt.
Xuandong let out a long, heavy sigh, shaking his head as he stepped over an overgrown root.
Schemes, prep time, and item management could take him far, but at the end of the day, strength was the ultimate law in the Douluo Continent.
If he hadn’t had three high-ranking Titled Douluo backing him up that day, his entire plan would have ended in an instant party wipe.
Meanwhile, far to the south, deep within the dark, suffocating sanctuary of the Holy Spirit Cult headquarters.
Rank 99 Ultimate Douluo Long Xiaoyao sat silently beside a stone bed.
Resting upon it was a pale, frail woman—Ye Xishui, the Rank 99 Deathgod Douluo.
“How are you feeling, Xishui?” Long Xiaoyao asked, his deep voice laced with quiet concern.
“I am fine…” Ye Xishui murmured weakly, her crimson eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
Suddenly, her posture locked.
Her pupils dilated, and her breath hitched.
Without warning, a violent wave of dark, corrupted blood erupted from her lips, splashing across her white robes.
Her eyes rolled back, and her body went completely limp as she passed out cold.
“Xishui!” Long Xiaoyao’s dark energy flared in a sudden panic, his hands hovering over her pulse.
After a few tense minutes, Ye Xishui let out a raspy, shuddering breath.
Slowly opening her eyes, a heavy mixture of guilt, regret, and profound sorrow pooled within her gaze.
“Zhongli Wu…
is dead,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Long Xiaoyao’s eyes narrowed into sharp, dangerous slits.
The temperature in the room plummeted to sub-zero.
“Dead?
How?
There are fewer than five people on this entire continent capable of killing him.” Ye Xishui remained silent for a long moment, staring into the dark corners of the room.
“A god…” “Impossible,” Long Xiaoyao scoffed immediately.
“It has been ten thousand years since a god last walked this world.” “I felt it, Xiaoyao…
I saw it,” Ye Xishui rasped, her fist clutching the bedsheets tightly.
“Due to a blood contingency I left inside Wu’er, I maintained a subtle soul connection with him.
When he died…
he did not perish at the hands of a mortal.
It was a divine light—a light far more holy, far purer, and infinitely stronger than Mu En’s Sea God Light.
It smote his soul to ash in an instant.
The feedback alone shattered my spiritual core.” Silence descended upon the dark chamber, heavy and suffocating.
Long Xiaoyao’s expression turned grim.
If a divine force was operating within the Sun Moon Empire, their entire long-term plan was in jeopardy.
“We must investigate this with absolute caution,” Long Xiaoyao said gravely, setting his jaw.
“Until we know what wiped Zhongli Wu out, order all cult branches to scale back their operations immediately.
We go silent.” Back in the Great Sun Moon Forest, the path of bending grass finally opened into a vast, ancient clearing.
Standing in the center of the pristine clearing was an enormous, glowing blue tree whose roots merged into the form of an elderly man with a gentle, weathered expression.
“Hello there, my vegan friend,” Xuandong called out casually, stepping into the open.
The ancient Blue Silver Emperor looked at the young boy, a soft, polite smile touching his lips.
Though he clearly didn’t comprehend the second half of Xuandong’s strange greeting, he bowed his head slightly.
“Greetings, Child of Nature.
Welcome to my simple abode.” Xuandong paused, his eyebrows twitching slightly.
He knew the exact concept of a ‘Child of Nature’ from Soul Land 3—beings chosen by the planet’s core to act as spokespersons and protectors of the world’s natural order.
“What do you mean, Child of Nature?” Xuandong asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Shouldn’t a Child of Nature exist to nourish the next life core of the planet?” The Blue Silver Emperor blinked, genuine surprise flickering across his gentle eyes.
He hadn’t expected a seven-year-old human child to possess such profound knowledge.
Nodding slowly, the old man replied, “The planet itself has chosen you, child.
Although I do not sense the physical Seed of Life resting within your body, the pure, undeniable aura of Nature radiates from your very soul.” Xuandong sank into deep thought.
Was he actually chosen by the planet, or was this just the passive, high-level effect of his maxed-out BG3 Druid class and Circle of the Land subclass bleeding into real-life physics?
In his current state, his soul felt completely harmonious with every tree, blade of grass, and breeze around him.
“Why did you ask the grass to guide me here?” Xuandong asked, looking up.
He noted internally that his Alert feat hadn’t triggered a single warning ping since he entered the valley, proving the old beast held no malice toward him.
The Blue Silver Emperor let out a long, weary sigh.
“My time in this world is growing short, child.
My second spirit beast tribunal approaches, and I lack the confidence to survive its lightning.
Rather than letting my centuries of cultivation scatter into nothingness, I wish to offer my life base to assist the Child of Nature.
It is the solemn duty of all plant life to support you.” As the old man spoke, a strange memory flashed in Xuandong’s mind—a vivid dream he had suffered months ago during his sleep.
He had seen two massive, towering trees locked in a silent, violent struggle for dominance: one was Ah Yin, Tang San’s mother, and the other was the Light Golden Tree of Shrek Academy.
They were fighting fiercely over the planet’s life core position, while a massive, illusory Clear Sky Hammer hovered in the clouds above them.
Is the Douluo planet itself using me to stop Tang San’s grand scheme?
Xuandong mused, his gaze hardening.
Noticing the boy’s intense internal debate, the Blue Silver Emperor remained quiet, respectfully allowing him time to process.
Xuandong let out a breath, looking up into the glowing canopy.
“Old man…
what was your relationship with the previous Blue Silver Emperor?” The old man’s expression dimmed slightly.
“Not too good, not too bad.
We were simply members of the same clan.” “You’re not telling me the whole truth,” Xuandong pointed out directly.
The Blue Silver Emperor sighed, a trace of bitter sorrow entering his ancient voice.
“I once wished she would help me sire a child…
so that together, we could create a perfect, flawless successor for our Blue Silver Grass clan.
But…
when she chose to transform into a human, she became an entirely different person.
She abandoned her kin.
She never protected us, never helped our weak clan members rise, and never returned to nourish her people.
While she was a beast, she cared for us.
Once she became human…
she stopped entirely.” Xuandong listened quietly.
He didn’t bother correcting or judging the old beast’s disdain for humanity.
The rift between human society and soul beasts was deep, ancient, and bloody; he had no intention of forcing a grand, utopian coexistence speech on a dying old tree.
“If I accept your sacrifice,” Xuandong said, “what do you want in return?” The Blue Silver Emperor’s face brightened, his smile widening with genuine relief.
“I only ask that the Child of Nature nourish the seed I leave behind after my sacrifice.” “Deal,” Xuandong agreed instantly.
“However…
before we begin the ritual, I have one extra request.
Can you gather every high-grade soul bone you can get your hands on from this region?” The old man blinked in mild confusion.
To soul beasts, soul bones were utterly useless—nothing more than strange trophies left behind by fallen rivals or predators.
“It shall be done.
Give me a few days to gather them from the surrounding territories.” While waiting over the next two days, Xuandong rolled up his sleeves and approached the clearing’s edge.
Channeling his Druid spell slots, he cast Plant Growth over the surrounding valley.
A wave of lush, brilliant green light surged through the soil, causing hundreds of young, struggling Blue Silver Grass sprouts to rapidly mature, thicken, and flourish within seconds.
Seeing his weak kin bursting with vibrant vitality, the ancient Blue Silver Emperor was moved to tears, bowing deeply to Xuandong in profound gratitude.
Two days later, a massive pile of shimmering, high-grade spirit bones sat piled before Xuandong’s feet.
Stashing every single one of them securely into his spatial storage device, Xuandong turned to the glowing old man.
“Don’t worry,” Xuandong said calmly, resting his hand against the ancient trunk.
“This sacrifice will only feel like a short nap for you.
You’ll wake up as a healthy sprout in a decade or so.” The Blue Silver Emperor smiled peacefully, his form beginning to dissolve into millions of floating, blue-and-gold specks of light.
“Thank you, Child of Nature.
May your path ahead be safe and unyielding.” A terrifyingly dense, dark crimson spirit ring coalesced in the air, slowly descending over Xuandong’s Steam Deck.
As the pure, harmonious cultivation energy of the hundred-thousand-year beast flooded his meridians, Xuandong felt his soul power bottleneck shatter instantly!
Boosted by the massive accumulation of Wizard Transmutation potions he had crafted using rare spirit herbs, his spirit power didn’t just step up—it surged violently from Rank 20 all the way to Rank 29!
Opening his eyes, Xuandong felt the overwhelming power humming through his body.
He suddenly recalled the joke he had told his mother and sisters back at the breakfast table months ago—how a hundred-thousand-year spirit beast had voluntarily sacrificed itself to him out of sheer respect for his imperial majesty.
Xuandong stood frozen in the quiet clearing, staring at his hands in utter disbelief.
“Wait a minute…” he whispered to the empty forest.
“I wasn’t lying back then…
I was telling a prophecy!” He clapped a hand over his face, a mixture of shock and sheer hilarity washing over him.
“Holy crap…
I was Usopp all along!”