"Child… did you truly come up with this yourself? How did you even think of it?"
Golden Crocodile Douluo stepped forward, stopping in front of Chen Ming. He did his best to soften his imposing presence as he spoke, his tone deliberately gentler than usual.
"I am Golden Crocodile Douluo. I've lived for over two hundred years now, and my body has begun to decline. There are parts of your new method that I do not fully understand—could you explain them to me?"
"Greetings, Senior Golden Crocodile," Chen Ming replied respectfully. "I once read about your deeds in a book—how more than a hundred years ago, you single-handedly suppressed a rampaging hundred-thousand-year Spirit Beast to protect the people. It was truly stirring. I never imagined I would have the chance to meet you today."
"You flatter me," Golden Crocodile Douluo said, stroking his beard. Yet inwardly, he couldn't help but grumble.
The incident had indeed happened, and his ninth Spirit Ring did come from that hundred-thousand-year Spirit Beast. But back then, he certainly hadn't gone alone—the then Pope of Spirit Hall had led a full team to wear the beast down, and he had merely delivered the finishing blow.
After so many years, how had the story turned into him slaying it single-handedly?
Before he could dwell on it further, Chen Ming had already begun laying out the explanation he had prepared.
In essence, he described how, after awakening his Martial Soul, he had come across two meditation methods. Finding them overly crude, he had begun experimenting with ways to improve the cultivation process. After several years of exploration—combined with what he had learned from Dugu Bo and Ye Renxin—he had gradually refined his ideas into a complete system.
As someone born into a farming family and a work-study student at an academy, he said he carried a deep sense of compassion and wished to create a method that would allow everyone to cultivate more efficiently.
On the surface, the explanation was perfectly reasonable. Even if someone investigated, this was exactly the conclusion they would arrive at. Everything else—the deeper calculations, the true reasoning behind it—remained locked within Chen Ming's own mind, beyond anyone's ability to deduce.
More importantly, he wasn't lying.
He had simply omitted certain "details."
Even a Spirit Master capable of detecting lies would find nothing amiss.
The worship elders found his line of thinking sound—straightforward, even—but at the same time, a sense of confusion lingered.
It all sounded so simple.
So why had no one thought of it before?
For those below the Titled Douluo level, it might be understandable. But those who had reached that realm were all veterans of countless battles, individuals with profound understanding of their own Martial Souls.
Their meridians, their combat techniques, the flow of Spirit Power within their bodies—these were things they knew intimately.
Using that knowledge to construct a new cultivation method…
Shouldn't that have been easy?
The group exchanged glances, each seeing the same confusion reflected in the others' eyes, yet none could quite articulate it. In the end, they could only attribute it to the rigidity of their thinking—after so many years, their perspectives had solidified, leaving them far less imaginative than the younger generation.
If Chen Ming had to evaluate it bluntly…
He would say that, across the entire Douluo Continent, people seemed to be missing a certain "spark"—especially when it came to innovation and development. In that regard, they were almost too reliable.
After a round of questions and answers, even Qian Daoliu and the other six worship elders found themselves faintly flushed with embarrassment—embarrassed that, after a lifetime of cultivation, they had never managed to grasp something so seemingly simple.
Then, with curiosity stirred, Qian Daoliu began to probe deeper, testing Chen Ming's knowledge and his understanding of cultivation.
At first, the elders merely listened with interest. But as the questions grew more intricate, they found themselves unable to remain silent, one after another joining in.
With each answer Chen Ming gave, their reactions diverged—some frowned in doubt, some nodded as realization dawned, while others stared in astonishment, never having imagined that such questions could be approached in this way at all.
After roughly an hour of questioning and discussion, everyone present arrived at the same unmistakable conclusion.
Chen Ming's mind was different—fundamentally different—not just from theirs, but from anyone else on the continent. His way of thinking, his analytical ability… even a Limit Douluo might not possess such clarity.
The worship elders exchanged glances, then looked toward Qian Daoliu, whose expression was no less shaken than their own. Quietly, they amended their unspoken judgment.
Not "might not possess."
Even a Limit Douluo simply did not.
Though Chen Ming had yet to reach the level of a Titled Douluo, his understanding of Martial Souls and his insights into cultivation had already surpassed the vast majority of Titled Douluo within Spirit Hall. What he lacked was not comprehension, but experience—and the accumulation of his own Spirit Power.
In every meaningful sense, he was a true monster, without exaggeration or embellishment.
To them, this cultivation method was unimaginably precious. Yet to Chen Ming, it seemed it had merely been the result of a few years of thought.
And in the course of his future life, there would likely be countless more such achievements—perhaps even more valuable than this one.
Qian Daoliu stroked his chin thoughtfully and glanced toward Golden Crocodile Douluo, only to find the latter also stroking his beard and looking back at him. Their eyes met, and in that instant, both believed they understood the other's intent.
"Child, would you be willing to become my disciple?"
They spoke at the exact same moment.
Both men froze.
Then they turned to look at each other, confusion flickering in their eyes.
Wait… wasn't that glance supposed to mean you'd let me take him, and you'd just back me up?
"Grand Worship," Golden Crocodile Douluo said after a brief pause, his tone carrying a rare hint of earnestness, "I am already over two hundred years old, yet I have no successor. It would be better to let me take him. My Martial Soul is also more suited to this child."
Qian Daoliu hesitated.
He truly valued Chen Ming, but Golden Crocodile Douluo was not only his subordinate—he was also, in a sense, his elder. Though his strength placed him as the Second Worship, and he addressed Qian Daoliu as elder brother, in terms of seniority he was the oldest living pillar of Spirit Hall, a figure who had upheld its foundation for generations.
After a moment's thought, Qian Daoliu stepped back slightly.
"Child, what do you think?"
Seeing him yield, Golden Crocodile Douluo let out a quiet breath of relief and immediately summoned his Martial Soul.
Yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black… red.
Nine Spirit Rings rose around him, and the ninth—distinct from all the others—glowed with a blood-red brilliance, radiating a terrifying pressure that shook the heart.
In this era, hundred-thousand-year Spirit Beasts were still exceedingly rare. Even those capable of hunting them might never encounter one in their lifetime.
For many low-level Spirit Masters, such creatures were nothing more than legend.
Even among high-level experts, including Super Douluo, it was not uncommon to lack a red ninth Spirit Ring. Among the worship elders of Spirit Hall, aside from Qian Daoliu himself, only Golden Crocodile Douluo possessed a hundred-thousand-year Spirit Ring.
A domineering aura surged outward as his Martial Soul manifested—the Golden Crocodile King.
Though it was not a true dragon, crocodiles themselves were a branch closely related to dragonkind. The Golden Crocodile carried the golden bloodline of the Golden Dragon, making it a top-tier draconic descendant.
And while it was not a true dragon Martial Soul, in terms of raw power, the Golden Crocodile King was more than capable of surpassing most true dragon Martial Souls.