Meanwhile, in Mujin's office—
"What exceptional talents… all of them!"
Scanning the stack of test records, Mujin's eyes gleamed with unrestrained excitement—and a hint of vindictive satisfaction. She muttered to herself, "Zhou Yi… just you wait! This time, I'll crush you beneath me!"
Knock… knock… knock…
A sudden knock at the door startled her. She quickly composed herself.
"Come in."
The door opened to reveal a middle-aged man—around forty, unremarkable in looks but radiating scholarly refinement. He stood in the doorway with a gentle, ever-present smile.
"Apologies for the intrusion, Teacher Mujin."
"Oh? Teacher Wang Yan?" Mujin blinked in surprise, then teased lightly, "What brings the library ghost to my office? Shouldn't you be buried in books?"
Wang Yan chuckled, unfazed. He knew his reputation well: aside from teaching duties, he spent every spare moment either in the library or his dorm, researching martial souls. Socializing with colleagues? Rarely.
"I've come to ask a favor," he said politely. Despite his seniority and high-level connections, he carried no arrogance. "I heard you've used soul-guided devices to test this year's freshmen across six metrics. Your data must be incredibly precise. I'd like to study their martial souls in detail—see if I can offer insights."
Mujin didn't refuse—but explained she hadn't finished compiling her class's full dataset yet, making immediate sharing impossible.
Wang Yan wasn't discouraged. "Then I'll trouble you to share it once complete. And I won't take without giving: I'll add personalized recommendations to each student's file. Though I hope my advice doesn't mislead them."
"Teacher Wang, you're too modest," Mujin said sincerely. Among Shrek's Outer Academy instructors, no one matched Wang Yan's expertise in martial soul research. His guidance would far surpass her own.
She handed him a list of her top talents, pride lacing her voice: "These are Class Nine's most gifted. Notice we have two Soul Elders."
"Oh?" Wang Yan halted his retreat, intrigued. He took the documents—and froze the moment he read the first name.
"Dugu Xin. Martial Soul: Jade Phosphorous Serpent…"
He didn't read further. Those eight words alone sent chills down his spine—thrill and dread warring within him.
The Jade Phosphorous Serpent. The Dugu Clan.
He thrust the record back at Mujin, muttering in alarm: "The Dugu's Jade Phosphorous Serpent has reappeared… Does that mean this student is…" Recalling ancient texts describing the fate of such soul masters, his brow furrowed deeper.
Mujin watched, baffled.
Finally, resolve hardened Wang Yan's eyes. "No—I must find Elder Xuan immediately. Otherwise, this child…"
He bid Mujin farewell and rushed off.
"What's so ominous about the Jade Phosphorous Serpent?" Mujin flipped through the record, utterly perplexed. The Dugu Clan had vanished from public view for so long that no Outer Academy teacher knew their secret.
She set aside her confusion, hoping Wang Yan would explain next time.
After organizing the records, she began preparing her afternoon lecture: The Evolution of Soul-Guided Devices and Their Tactical Applications in Combat.
…
That afternoon, by Sea God Lake—
Wang Yan paced anxiously, eyes fixed on distant Sea God Island. Clearly, he awaited someone.
"Little Wang," a gruff voice cut through the air behind him, "why so jumpy? What's so urgent?"
An unkempt, disheveled elder stood there—wild hair, wine flask in one hand, roasted chicken in the other. He took a swig, tore off a bite of meat, and sighed in contentment.
"Elder Xuan! You're here!" Wang Yan, knowing the elder's impatience, wasted no words. "A freshman from the Dugu Clan has enrolled—his martial soul is the Jade Phosphorous Serpent."
"Jade Phosphorous Serpent?" Elder Xuan's eyes flashed with ancient, terrifying light—then dimmed into hazy confusion. "Ah… such a distant memory."
He saw through Wang Yan's intent. "You want to save the boy," he rasped, voice weathered by time.
"Yes, Elder Xuan! I believe—"
"Your belief means nothing," the elder snapped, waving him silent. Wang Yan swallowed his plea.
"Do you think the Dugu's poison is a joke?" Elder Xuan scoffed. "Even the methods left by Ancestor Tang San can't save them now. If you hadn't found one in the academy, I'd have assumed the clan was extinct."
According to Shrek's archives:
The Dugu Clan's curse began the moment they cultivated. Though Ancestor Dugu Bo had devised a toxin-storage method using soul bones, those bones had limits. Toxins accumulated over generations grew too potent—requiring multiple soul bones to contain. But soul bones were rare treasures. Worse, once used for toxin storage, they couldn't be inherited—shattering the very concept of legacy soul bones.
Trapped in a vicious cycle:
To survive, they needed stronger soul bones.To earn soul bones, they needed greater strength.But greater strength meant deadlier toxins.
After ten thousand years, Dugu descendants were doomed to die young—by age 25 at most. No time to break through to higher realms… no chance to acquire more soul bones.
Thus, the clan practiced strict single-child inheritance—just to keep their bloodline alive.
Wang Yan stood speechless.
How could anyone save them?
This wasn't a disease—it was a generational curse.
Elder Xuan took a long swig from his flask, gazing at the lake. "Thousands of years ago, the Dugus came to Shrek begging for soul bones. That's when our ties with them shattered. And truthfully… the academy never had a cure." He turned to Wang Yan. "So listen…"
"Elder Xuan…"
"Tell that boy to go home," the elder said dismissively, waving a greasy hand. "Find a wife. Leave an heir. That's the best advice this old Sea God Pavilion elder can give him."
With that, he staggered into the air—his drunken flight so unsteady it seemed he might plummet at any moment.
"Sigh…" Wang Yan exhaled heavily.
He'd planned to ask Elder Xuan about condensing a soul core—gathering all toxins into it to spare the body. As merely a Soul King, he understood soul cores only vaguely, and hoped the Super Douluo might guide him.
But now? No need to ask.
Forming a soul core required standing at the threshold of Title Douluo—a realm unreachable by age 25.
25-year-old Title Douluo?
Impossible.
"Is there truly… no hope?"
------------------------------------------------------
Double Chapters Chapters Ahead: patreon.com/EphemeralShadow
There's something for free patrons too! Free Patrons receive 1 chapter in advance :)