In the quiet sanctuary of his private quarters, Xu Xuandong lay sprawling across his heavy silk mattress, staring intently at the dark glass screen of the Steam Deck hovering mere inches above his nose.
“AHH!
You stupid lobster, how the fuck did you hit me from that far?!” he roared, his voice echoing off the carved wooden beams of the ceiling.
He furiously tapped the trackpad, watching his in-game avatar get sniped across an entire swamp by a giant crustacean’s high-pressure water jet.
He let out a long, weary groan, tossing his hands up.
“I swear, if these lobsters exist in this world, I would recruit them directly into imperial spec ops.
Their snipers are unmatched.” A soft, rhythmic knock suddenly broke the quiet atmosphere of the bedchamber.
“Your Highness,” the gentle voice of the imperial maid, Ying Yue, called out from behind the heavy wooden doors.
“Breakfast is ready in the main dining hall.
The Emperor and Empress are awaiting your arrival.” Xuandong’s lips twitched slightly.
He had spent forty-eight hours straight grinding in-game content through his martial soul, using his newly rigged Ley Line power bank to push through dungeons without pause.
The mental fatigue was starting to pile up.
With a subtle flick of his wrist, the dark rectangular frame of the Steam Deck shimmered with radiant blue light, morphing into a polished glass flask filled with a glowing, cerulean liquid.
He unstoppered the bottle, tilted his head back, and chugged the mana-restoring potion down in one gulp.
Instantly, a cool, invigorating wave washed through his nervous system, clearing his brain fog and completely purging his exhaustion.
“Note to self,” Xuandong muttered, wiping his mouth as the blue flask dissolved back into spirit energy.
“I haven’t slept for two days straight.
I shouldn’t push myself so hard, even if I have infinite mana potions.” Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he straightened his royal robes and opened the door.
He offered a polite nod to the attendant waiting outside.
“Morning, Ying Yue.” “Good morning, Your Highness,” she bowed gracefully.
Xuandong walked down the grand, gilded corridors of the Sun Moon Imperial Palace toward the dining hall.
The moment he pushed open the mahogany doors, a heavy, suffocating silence struck him.
The atmosphere inside the hall was noticeably thick with unspoken tension.
His twin sister, Xu Xia, sat quietly picking at her food, while his elder sisters and the attending staff looked distinctly grim.
Knowing his father’s schedule, Xuandong immediately pieced the situation together.
His father must have delivered his grand public address to the empire earlier this morning, and the entire court was now terrified that a full-scale continental war was about to erupt on their eastern border.
Xuandong casually slid into his designated seat at the long table, looking around at the tense faces.
“What’s with everyone?
Did someone die, or are we just practicing for a funeral?” His mother, the Empress, let out a soft, maternal sigh, reaching over to pat his hand soothingly.
“Don’t worry yourself over it, Xuandong, sweetie.
It’s just…
something regarding the adults.” Xuandong tilted his head, his face deadpan.
“Is it about sex?” PFFT—!
Cough!
Cough-cough!
A chorus of violent choking instantly erupted across the dining table.
Servants dropped their serving trays in absolute horror, Xu Xia gagged on her morning juice, and his eldest sister, Xu Mie’er, nearly choked to death on a piece of toasted pastry, her face turning bright red.
Right at that exact chaotic moment, the heavy double doors swung open, and Emperor Xu stepped into the room, draped in his grand imperial robes.
He paused at the threshold, blinking in utter bewilderment as he looked at his coughing daughters, flushed servants, and choking wife.
“What on earth happened to all of you?” the Emperor asked, raising an eyebrow.
Xuandong turned toward his father with the most innocent, wide-eyed expression physically possible.
“Nothing, Father.
We were just talking about adult stuff.” The Emperor’s eyebrow twitched higher.
He slowly turned his head toward his wife, only to see the Empress staring at their son with a terrifying, deathly glare that promised severe physical retribution the moment they were alone.
Clearing his throat softly to break the dangerous silence, Xuandong picked up a piece of fruit.
“So, how was the speech, Father?” Emperor Xu let out a long, heavy sigh, pulling out the head chair and sitting down.
“It went…
significantly better than expected.” He took a sip of warm tea before continuing, his tone turning serious.
“My brother, Prince Xu Gongfeng, was returning from his inspection along the southern border when he was ambushed by Star Luo’s White Tiger General, Dai Yuan.
However, Gongfeng not only managed to severely injure Dai Yuan during the battle, but he also killed Dai Yuan’s son, Dai Hao.” Xu Mie’er wiped her mouth with a napkin, her brow furrowing in deep concern.
“Father, Duke Dai Yuan and the Star Luo Empire won’t let something like this go easily.
Eliminating an imperial heir of the White Tiger lineage is an absolute declaration of blood.” “There is no need to worry, Mie’er,” the Emperor replied calmly.
“Star Luo was the one in the wrong first by launching a covert ambush on our imperial prince within neutral territory.
My speech made it crystal clear to their diplomats: if they wish to push this matter any further, it will result in total, unmitigated war.” Xuandong took a casual bite of his fruit, chewing thoughtfully.
“No one actually wants a full-scale war right now.
They’ll swallow their pride and let it go.” Xu Mie’er blinked, staring at her little brother, before a sudden look of sharp comprehension flashed in her eyes.
She realized her father’s aggressive, morale-rallying speech wasn’t an actual declaration of invasion—it was a calculated political bluff designed strictly to gag the Star Luo envoys and force them into diplomatic silence.
While his family resumed their hushed conversation, Xuandong’s mind drifted entirely away from the dining table, diving deep into the inner mind of his past life’s knowledge.
Wait a minute, he thought, staring blankly at his plate.
Since Huo Yuhao doesn’t exist in this timeline, what happens to his fate?
Or rather…
what was his natural fate supposed to be?
He began systematically dissecting the timeline through cold, objective logic, stripping away the artificial concept of ‘plot armor.’ If Huo Yuhao existed without divine meddling, his natural trajectory after acquiring the Skydream Ice Worm would be straightforward.
With an innate soul power of Rank 1 and a deep, burning hatred for the Duchess of the White Tiger Duke’s mansion, he would desperately need a safe environment to grow.
But Star Luo was crawling with the Duchess’s political influence, and Shrek Academy—with its rigid, elitist entry requirements—would never accept an unbacked Rank 1 commoner.
Where would he go?
The Heavenly Soul Empire.
The Heavenly Soul Empire was heavily monitored by the Body Sect, who actively hunted for rare, body-type martial souls.
Body Sect scouts would spot Yuhao’s spiritual eyes in no time and take him in.
And since the Body Sect held a bitter, ancient grudge against Shrek Academy, Yuhao would naturally be raised as a direct enemy of Shrek.
Alternatively, consider the second logical path: Yuhao attends a standard, ordinary soul master academy.
Honestly, any standard academy’s structured teaching would be vastly superior to Zhou Yi’s abusive, nonsensical expulsion methods, easily allowing him to reach Rank 20 at the same pace.
He would then travel to the Far North to hunt for his second ring and contract the Ice Empress.
During that trip to the Far North, he would inevitably bump into Jing Hongchen and Meng Hongchen, who were in the region seeking Meng’s soul ring.
Xuandong remembered a tiny detail from the novel where Meng Hongchen mentioned being present in the Far North when Skydream and the Ice Empress flared their aura.
Fanfic or canon, the timing aligned perfectly.
The moment a Grade 9 Soul Engineer like Jing Hongchen discovered a boy possessing a soul skill that allow anyone and every one a complete, omnidirectional view, he wouldn’t hesitate to scoop Yuhao up, bring him back to the Sun Moon Empire, and integrate him into the Illustrious Virtue Hall’s core projects.
Both natural, logical paths resulted in Huo Yuhao becoming a bitter enemy of Shrek Academy.
And without Huo Yuhao carrying them on his back, Shrek Academy and the Tang Sect would have naturally withered away into history.
A sudden, cold shiver ran down Xuandong’s spine.
Wait…
if I became the Child of Destiny in this world, and my natural destiny as a Sun Moon Prince is inherently aligned against Shrek…
then Tang San in the Divine Realm will definitely meddle to force me into joining Shrek!
His eyes narrowed into sharp slits as a horrifying realization struck his brain.
Xu He!
To force a prince of the Sun Moon Empire into joining the Tang Sect, Tang San would engineer the exact same tragic path of He Caitou.
He would ensure my family is slaughtered, strip me of everything I love, and force me into tragic exile.
Then, while I am at my absolute lowest, bleeding and broken, the Tang Sect would magically appear to ‘save’ me, giving me a false hope for revenge.
And while I grieve my lost family, Wang Dong would be sent to fill my lonely heart with love, only to sacrifice herself later so my soul sinks even deeper into their puppet strings!
Xuandong mentally shook his head, a drop of cold sweat forming behind his ear.
Hopefully…
I’m just overthinking things.
He leaned back, pondering the grander cosmic picture.
What if the true, ultimate purpose of a Child of Destiny isn’t to protect a single academy, but to unite the entire continent?
If the continent remains divided, locked in endless, bloody wars between empires, the finite resources of the planet will eventually be completely exhausted.
He recalled the events of the original Douluo Dalu 1.
During that era, the gods heavily meddled in mortal affairs.
If Tang San and the gods hadn’t interfered, Spirit Hall would have successfully united the entire continent ten thousand years ago, bringing absolute order, standardized awakenings for commoners, and lasting peace.
“XUANDONG!” A loud, frantic voice shattered his internal monologue.
Xuandong snapped his head up, finding his entire family staring at him with pale, deeply anxious expressions.
His twin sister, Xu Xia, was clutching his sleeve, her eyes wide with fear.
“Xuandong…
what happened to you?!” Xu Xia whimpered softly.
“You were releasing such an ominous, terrifying aura just now!” Xuandong blinked, realizing his deep, violent thoughts had unintentionally leaked a trace of his tyrannical dragon bloodline and natural pressure outward.
Softening his expression instantly, he put on a warm, gentle smile and patted his sister’s head.
“Don’t worry, Xia.
I was just thinking…
I won’t ever allow the Star Luo Empire to harm any of you.” Xu Xia and his younger triplet sisters let out collective sighs of relief, their faces lighting up with sweet, touched smiles.
However, sitting at the head of the table, Emperor Xu, the Empress, and Xu Mie’er didn’t smile.
As high-level soul masters, they had distinctly felt the raw, cold killing intent radiating from the boy—a terrifying, ancient bloodthirst that went far beyond a simple childhood promise.
Xuandong stood up from the table, smoothing out his fine royal silks.
“Well, I should head to school now.
I shouldn’t be late for my fourth day of studying.” He bowed politely to his parents and turned on his heel, walking out of the grand dining hall.
As he stepped out into the crisp morning air of the palace courtyard, he looked up at the vast blue sky, muttering under his breath, “Should I figure out a way to resurrect Qian Renxue…?” He shook his head violently a second later, tossing the absurd thought aside.
“No…
stop daydreaming.
Right now, the only thing that matters is becoming stronger.” Reaching into his pocket, Xuandong channeled his soul power into his Steam Deck martial soul, activating its item-manifestation property.
The dark rectangular console compressed, shifting into a sleek, dark metallic ring resting comfortably around his index finger.
“Let’s see if this works…” he whispered.
Channeling a pulse of energy through the ring, a brilliant circle of golden light erupted on the stone pavement before him.
Out of the luminous array stepped a majestic, spectral horse bearing a coarse, silver-mane pelt and an , elegant curved horns protruding from its .
The creature lowered its head, happily nudging Xuandong’s chest before extending a large tongue and slathering a wet lick directly across the prince’s cheek.
“Hahaha!
Torrent, stop!” Xuandong laughed, wiping his cheek and fondly patting the horned steed’s neck.
He reached into his storage , pulling out a small, glowing green fruit—a Goodberry generated from his Druid class spell.
Torrent let out a soft, delighted whinny, snatching the Goodberry from his palm and crunching it down with absolute joy.
The spectral horse affectionately rubbed its warm snout against Xuandong’s shoulder, tail swishing happily.
“Good boy,” Xuandong smirked, grabbing the reins and swinging himself smoothly up onto the leather saddle.
“Now, let’s go to school!” With a sharp kick of his heels, Torrent let out a spirited cry, bounding forward as a streak of silver light, vaulting over the palace gates and galloping down the grand avenues of the Sun Moon Capital.
Torrent’s hooves clicked against the open air, leaving faint ripples of translucent golden energy behind each stride.
Xuandong held the reins loosely, genuinely surprised.
The spectral horse couldn’t technically “fly,” but it could construct solid, invisible platforms of force directly under its hooves, effectively walking through the sky.
He shrugged, thoroughly unfazed by the few stunned looks from the city below.
Imperial nobles loved showing off their spirit beast mounts anyway, so a flying horned steed didn’t draw any unwanted trouble.
Descending near the gates of the Sun Moon Imperial Soul Engineer Academy, Xuandong dismissed Torrent into blue light and scratched the back of his head.
“Wait…
which class was I assigned to again?” he muttered, staring at the massive campus grounds.
He shrugged casually.
“Whatever.
If I sense Ye Xing or Ji Juechen’s aura, I’ll just follow them.” Leaning against a marble pillar while waiting for the familiar energy signatures to appear, his mind drifted back to his forty-eight-hour Elden Ring marathon.
He had completed the game entirely, collecting every single weapon, spell, and talisman available.
But his most terrifying discovery wasn’t the armaments—it was the Remembrances dropped by major bosses.
In this world, those glowing memories functioned almost identically to divine cores, harboring an absurd, staggering amount of raw concept energy.
More importantly, because the game classified them as “consumables,” his martial soul allowed him to extract them directly into reality.
I could probably use these as energy sources for Divine Artifacts down the line, Xuandong thought, stroking his chin.
I just lack the advanced forging skill and array knowledge right now.
Then came the second, far more interesting mechanics exploit: learning an incantation granted him its absolute source in real life.
Xuandong held up his right palm.
With a faint mental flick, a cluster of silent, obsidian-colored fire erupted over his skin—the Godslaying Black Flame.
A mischievous smirk tugged at his lips as he watched the dark flames dance harmlessly across his fingers.
“I wonder if the Destined Death concept in this black fire works on the self-proclaimed Gods of the Divine Realm…” Before he could test the thought any further, two familiar soul power signatures entered his perception range.
Quenching the black flame, Xuandong turned around and spotted his friends walking down the stone path.
“Hello there, my friends!” Xuandong called out dramatically from afar, waving his arm in wide, absurd arcs.
Ye Xing instantly flushed bright red from sheer embarrassment, covering his face with one hand.
Ji Juechen, meanwhile, didn’t even flinch—his intense, unblinking gaze remained glued entirely to Ye Xing.
“Long time no see, Your Highness,” Ye Xing coughed softly, stepping forward.
Ji Juechen offered Xuandong a brief, stiff nod before returning to staring intensely at Ye Xing.
“Glad to see you both,” Xuandong chuckled, eyeing the pair up and down.
“So…
are you two going out?” Ye Xing violently choked on his breath, waving his hands frantically.
“Please don’t joke about that, Your Highness!” Before Xuandong could tease him further, an icy, bone-chilling sensation suddenly crawled up his spine.
He slowly turned his head, only to find his twin sister, Xu Xia, standing right behind him with her arms crossed and a dangerously sharp glare.
“Why are there sudden rumors across the imperial guard about you riding a flying, horned horse through the capital?” Xu Xia asked, her voice dripping with suspicion.
“Because I rode a flying, horned horse through the capital,” Xuandong replied naturally.
“Where on earth did you even get a horse like that?” “It came from a spatial ring when the Lu Clan gifted me half their treasure trove,” Xuandong lied smoothly without skipping a beat.
Ye Xing blinked, looking intrigued.
“A horned horse?
I heard the rumors on my way here too.” Ji Juechen finally broke his silence, his hand resting on his sword hilt as his eyes narrowed.
“Is it strong?” “See for yourself,” Xuandong grinned, channeling energy into his ring.
In a flash of golden light, Torrent materialized on the path, whinnying softly.
Because Ye Xing possessed a pure, holy light attribute, Torrent immediately warmed up to him, happily letting the embarrassed youth stroke his mane.
When Xu Xia cautiously reached out, Torrent sensed her gentle light energy as well and leaned into her touch, enjoying the affection.
Ji Juechen’s eyes flared.
Seeking a challenge, he suddenly unleashed a sharp, suffocating burst of raw sword intent directly at the mount.
BANG!
Torrent didn’t even turn around.
In a fraction of a second, the spectral horse lashed out with both hind hoofs, striking Ji Juechen squarely in the chest and sending the sword maniac flying across the courtyard like a bullet, disappearing over the tree line with a tiny distant sparkle.
Xuandong stared at the empty sky, then looked back at Torrent in absolute awe.
“Did you just turn Ji Juechen into a member of Team Rocket?” Torrent simply snorted, tossing his silver mane proudly.
A short while later, the group made their way to their designated classroom.
The instructor, a stern-looking Soul Engineer, cleared his throat and gestured for Xuandong to step up to the podium.
“Class, we have a new student joining us today.
Please introduce yourself.” Xuandong stepped up, flashing a warm, polite smile.
“Nice to meet you all.
My name is Xu Xuandong.
I am currently a Rank 16 Soul Master, and my martial soul is—” “Dark Age Technology!” Xu Xia suddenly shouted from her desk, staring at her twin brother with eyes that promised pure, unimagined physical pain if he dared say that stupid name out loud.
The entire classroom blinked in confusion.
One student raised his hand, asking nervously, “Uh…
what is ‘Dark Age’?” “AI slop,” Xuandong answered instantly.
The student scratched his head.
“I…
don’t understand.” “You’re lucky you don’t,” Xuandong muttered under his breath.
Another student near the back leaned forward.
“Wait, that still doesn’t explain the name of your martial soul!” Xuandong didn’t hesitate for even a single millisecond.
He took a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and declared with supreme confidence: “Because the true, official name of my martial soul is…
Void Boundless Celestial Supreme Heavenly Desolate Nine Earth Suppressing Purple Dragon Emperor Profound Mysterious Primordial Yin Yang Divine Handheld Console!” SLAM!
Xu Xia slapped her own face so hard the sound echoed down the hallway, burying her head deeply in her arms.
The entire classroom quieted for a single beat before erupting into a massive wave of uncontrollable laughter, completely shattering the morning formality.