Whispers of Blood and Moonlight
The cold assurance in Wu Zhangkong's words, "Rest assured," should have been a blanket of comfort. Yet, as his piercing blue eyes shifted from Yao Xuan to Xie Xie, the temperature in the tidy dormitory room plummeted further. The silence that followed was not peaceful; it was the heavy, anticipatory quiet before a storm of reprimand.
"It's alright, you can all focus on your cultivation," Wu Zhangkong repeated, his voice a low monotone that dismissed the external threat. Then, like a blade pivoting on a whetstone, his focus honed in on Xie Xie. "However."
The word hung in the air, sharp and final. Wu Zhangkong took a single step forward, not a threatening move, but one that dominated the space. He stared into Xie Xie's eyes, his gaze not angry, but profoundly disappointed—a look that cut deeper than any shout. "Your performance today has disappointed me greatly."
Xie Xie stiffened, the lingering ache in his ribs suddenly secondary to the sting of those words.
"You possess twin martial souls," Wu Zhangkong continued, each syllable precise and icy. "Innate full soul power. Century soul rings. You have received specialized, intensive training from me. And yet, you were decisively defeated by a mediocre, one-dimensional brawler with a subpar martial soul. It is not merely a failure. It is an embarrassment."
Xie Xie's jaw tightened. "Teacher Wu, I'm sorry, but at that time, I had eaten too much! It slowed me down, made me sluggish! If I were at my peak, I could have taken him!"
"In battle," Wu Zhangkong interrupted, his voice cracking through the excuse like a whip, "there are no 'ifs.' There is victory, and there is defeat. There is life, and there is death. That thug held back. If his intent had been murder, not intimidation, your corpse would be cooling in that noodle shop right now. Your 'full stomach' would be of no concern to anyone."
Xie Xie opened his mouth, a fresh protest on his lips, but Wu Zhangkong's raised hand was an absolute command for silence.
"No 'buts.' I do not adjudicate reasons. I evaluate results." He paused, letting the severity sink in. "On one hand, I expect you to learn from this. Combat is a state of constant readiness. On the other hand," his eyes narrowed slightly, "this reveals a profound deficiency. My previous training has clearly failed to extract your true potential. It was insufficient. Therefore, effective immediately, your physical conditioning regimen is doubled."
A soft, despairing groan escaped Xie Xie's lips as they were dismissed. He trudged out of the room, shoulders slumped not just from pain, but from the weight of his teacher's scathing assessment.
In the hallway, Tang Wulin draped a solid arm around his friend's shoulders. "He's harsh, but he's not wrong, Xie Xie. Your speed is amazing, but if you get cornered or weighed down…" He didn't finish the thought. "And yeah, you really are unlucky."
"Unlucky doesn't begin to cover it!" Xie Xie lamented, his voice echoing in the empty corridor. "And how is my physique supposed to compare to theirs? You and Brother Xuan are monsters! I'm an agility type! This is targeted cruelty!"
His complaints were a familiar soundtrack as they returned to Dormitory 205, now a space belonging only to the three of them since Zhou Changxi's departure. The room held a sense of shared purpose, a brotherhood forged in sweat and struggle.
"Brother Xuan," Tang Wulin said, his earlier solemnity replaced by eager focus, "it's time to cultivate."
Xie Xie, still grumbling, nonetheless settled onto his bed, his expression shifting to one of anticipation. The nightly ritual was their greatest advantage. Yao Xuan nodded, a small smile touching his lips. This was the core of their bond—shared growth.
He sat cross-legged on his bunk and closed his eyes. Silently, he activated the Creation Soul Forging Technique. It began not with a roar, but with a deep, resonant hum that vibrated in the chest rather than the ears. The air in the dormitory thickened, not with humidity, but with potency. Visible tendrils of pale, luminescent energy—condensed world soul power—seeped from the walls and ceiling, drawn by the technique's profound pull. They swirled gently around the three boys, a silent, radiant vortex. Tang Wulin and Xie Xie immediately sank into deep meditation, their breathing synchronizing as they greedily absorbed the bounty.
For hours, the room was a haven of concentrated silence, lit only by the soft glow of cultivating energy and the distant city lights through the window.
Midnight approached. Sensing his dorm-mates had sunk into the deep, untroubled sleep that followed intense cultivation, Yao Xuan opened his eyes. Their rhythmic breathing was the only sound. With the silence of a shadow, he slipped from his bed and out into the cool, deserted campus.
The memory of Tang Wulin's heartfelt loyalty, which had earned him a staggering 500 Gold Evolution Points, was fresh. Tonight, he would invest it. But he could not do so here. The awakening of his Ancestral Dragon bloodline sent out pulses of primordial energy, a signature he was certain Tang Wulin's dormant Golden Dragon King bloodline could sense, even subconsciously. To hasten that rival's awakening was against his strategic interest.
'I am the variable,' Yao Xuan thought, his footsteps silent on the dewy grass of the sports field. The vast, empty expanse under the starry sky was his cathedral. 'The protagonist of this era is the one who shapes it. Tang Wulin is a piece on the board—a powerful, destined piece. My role is not to break him, but to guide him. To ensure his strength amplifies my destiny, not challenges it.' Eliminating a Child of Destiny was a fool's gamble, inviting catastrophic karmic backlash. But carefully steering that destiny, integrating it into his own narrative? That was the art of a transmigrator with system-given foresight.
Standing at the center of the field, he opened his system interface. With a thought, he converted 460 Gold Evolution Points. A torrent of golden, cosmic-seeming energy—Evolution Source Energy—flooded his veins. It was not pain, but a profound, overwhelming fullness, as if every cell in his body was being remade from a deeper, more perfect blueprint. His heart thundered a rhythm older than the continents. In his mind's eye, the percentage representing his Ancestral Dragon Bloodline climbed: 16.8%... 17.0%... 17.2%... finally settling at 17.4%.
As the surge subsided, a frown touched his brow. 'The efficiency drops exponentially. From 17% to 20% will require over two thousand five hundred points. And beyond 30%? The numbers become astronomical.' The path to godhood was not a road, but a vertical cliff he had to mine himself. The weight of that infinite ascent was a sobering chill in his soul.
Unbeknownst to him, his bloodline's momentary zenith sent a silent, majestic pulse through the web of draconic law that underpinned the world.
In the girls' dormitory, miles away, Gu Yue's eyes snapped open. She was not asleep. She had been meditating, contemplating the strange, compelling puzzle that was Yao Xuan. Then, she felt it—a distant, familiar, and utterly sovereign call.
"The aura of the Dragon God… again. And it's stronger. The playground."
Without a sound, a wisp of silver light enveloped her. Space itself seemed to bend deferentially. One moment she was on her bed; the next, she stood in the profound shadow of an ancient oak at the edge of the sports field, her form completely melded with the darkness.
Her silver-purple eyes, capable of perceiving the fabric of elemental law, adjusted. There, in the center of the field, sat Yao Xuan. But to her senses, he was not just a boy. Around him, the very air shimmered with a residual, fading glory. Faint, ethereal ribbons of nine-colored light—indiscernible to normal sight—danced and coiled around him before sinking back into his skin. It was a process of integration, of becoming.
Her breath, which she did not need but maintained for appearances, caught.
"It's true. He isn't just carrying an artifact. He is cultivating it. He is drawing upon that power, harmonizing with it… becoming one with it." The last vestige of doubt evaporated, leaving a yawning chasm of realization. "He can release and control the Dragon God's power. There is only one explanation… He holds the soul essence of His Majesty the Dragon God within him."
A storm of emotion brewed behind her cool eyes—awe, confusion, and a sharp, piercing anxiety. "But if His Majesty's essence has been reborn within a human… if the memory and consciousness are gone, leaving only this raw, evolving power within a human vessel…" The ramifications were terrifying. The hope of the dragon tribe, reborn into the species that had hunted them to near extinction?
She watched Yao Xuan stand, the majestic aura now completely internalized, leaving behind just a strikingly handsome, calm-faced youth. The dissonance was staggering. Here was the being whose power she, the Silver Dragon King, was born from, whose other half she literally was… walking as a human boy, oblivious to his own cosmic significance.
A profound headache, not physical but existential, threatened to overwhelm her. As the Silver Dragon King, wielder of the Dragon God's wisdom and rationality, she had faced enemies and endured epochs of solitude. But she had no protocol for this. How does one approach a sovereign who does not know he is a king?
Her gaze remained fixed on his retreating back as he walked toward the dormitories. The anxiety in her heart crystallized into a single, unwavering resolution. She needed to understand more. She needed to stay close. Whether he was a vessel, a reincarnation, or something entirely new, Yao Xuan was now the absolute center of her destiny. And she would unravel his mystery, not as a subject to a king, but as one singular existence reaching out to another across a gulf of forgotten eons. The quiet of the night held her silent vow.