"Mm, then… can I make a request first?" Qian Jue asked tentatively.
"Of course you can. Go on, let's hear it."
Gu Lan smiled, encouraging Qian Jue to speak his mind. He wasn't afraid of Qian Jue making demands—what he feared was that Qian Jue might have no interest at all.
"Mm, it's just… could you treat my companion first? His injuries are rather severe, I'm afraid he won't last much longer."
Qian Jue turned his head to look at Dai Mubai. The White Tiger was still unconscious. A Spirit Ancestor had unleashed the full force of his fourth Spirit skill against him—given that Dai Mubai was only a Spirit Grandmaster in the early 20s of level, the fact that he wasn't already dead was sheer luck.
"Hahahaha, of course, that's no problem. As it happens, one of my Spirit skills is of the healing type."
Gu Lan chuckled, relieved. He had thought Qian Jue might demand something difficult, but it turned out to be this simple. In truth, he had originally considered recruiting Dai Mubai as well, but after Qian Jue's dazzling display, he had gradually ignored Dai Mubai altogether.
As he spoke, Gu Lan rose to his feet, soul power unfurling.
Yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black—
7 Spirit rings appeared beneath his feet. The aura of a Spirit Saint erupted forth. The kindly, gentle elder seemed to vanish in an instant, replaced by a figure of towering majesty.
Gu Lan raised his hand. A strand of azure prayer beads manifested, growing larger and larger until they floated upright behind him, slowly rotating as they radiated a serene blue glow.
Qian Jue's eyes widened. This Protector of the Death Soul City's evil Spirit master organization wasn't a Spirit Emperor—he was on par with Flender himself, a Spirit Saint!
Noticing Qian Jue's astonishment, Gu Lan reverted to his kindly demeanor, smiling once more. "This is my martial spirit, the Gu Lan Sacred Beads. While they may not be as formidable as your Kindred Wolf Spirit, back when I awakened, I too possessed innate soul power at the 8th level."
As he spoke, he raised his hand. The fifth Spirit ring beneath him flared to life. Simultaneously, one of the Sacred Beads spinning behind him lit up, glowing blue as it detached and flew into his palm.
"You might think I'm a Support-type Spirit Master, given how my martial spirit appears. But in fact, I'm not—I am a Battle Spirit Master. My Gu Lan Sacred Beads total 9 in number, and each one can carry a Spirit skill corresponding to one of my Spirit rings. Because my skills are embedded into the beads, I can perfectly inherit skills whether they be attack, defense, or support. As it happens, the fifth bead carries a healing skill. Go!"
With a low shout, Gu Lan lifted his hand. The bead shot forward, hovering above Dai Mubai. A soft green light cascaded down, bathing the White Tiger's battered form.
Bathed in the Sacred Bead's glow, Dai Mubai groaned softly, consciousness returning. The bead then drifted back into Gu Lan's hand, and with a casual flick, he sent it spinning back into the rotating sequence behind him.
Qian Jue hurried forward, checking over his companion's wounds.
"How do you feel, Mubai? Any better?"
Dai Mubai blinked in confusion at Qian Jue, then looked around the chamber. His gaze fell upon Fan Hong standing guard over Fan Huan, and then upon Gu Lan standing at the main seat.
Memories returned in a rush. He closed his eyes briefly, piecing together his thoughts. They had not escaped danger. They were still in the underground chamber of the evil Spirit masters.
Seeing Qian Jue's concern, Dai Mubai shook his head. "I'm fine. A few broken ribs, but the fractures aren't badly displaced. My organs are unharmed."
Even as he spoke, Dai Mubai himself was astonished. He had been certain he would die when the wolf shadows of Fan Hong's fourth skill struck him. Yet here he was, alive.
"That's good," Qian Jue exhaled in relief.
"Protector, could I trouble you to heal my son as well? Whatever you require, just name it."
Fan Hong seized the moment, bowing deeply as he pleaded for Gu Lan to treat Fan Huan.
"Hehe, wait a while longer. My Spirit skill needs time to recover." Gu Lan smiled, withdrawing his martial spirit. He wasn't lying—even at the Spirit Saint level, Spirit skills were not infinitely spammable; they required cooldown.
"Understood. Many thanks, Protector." Fan Hong bowed again, then resumed tending to Fan Huan.
"Now then, child—any other requests?" Gu Lan looked back to Qian Jue, smiling warmly once more. The more Qian Jue asked of him, the deeper the ties between them would grow.
Qian Jue seized the chance, probing further. "Yes. Could you tell me more about your organization in detail?"
Gu Lan's smile deepened. He was quite satisfied with the youth's two requests. From them, he had already gleaned much about Qian Jue's character.
The first request, to heal his companion, proved he valued loyalty and bonds—he wasn't the type to abandon allies. Such men, once nurtured within their ranks, rarely betrayed.
The second, to learn more about their organization, showed he was no fool. He neither blindly accepted nor rashly rejected—he sought to understand first. Clearly, he was clever.
Exceptional talent combined with a keen mind—Gu Lan was becoming ever more delighted with Qian Jue.
After all, their so-called evil Spirit master organizations were still just powers in the continent, merely branded "evil" by Spirit Hall and the world. True, they often employed ruthless methods to achieve their goals. But they did not desire villains without conscience—such men were of no value to them. What they wanted were the brilliant, the gifted, those unbound by rigid rules and empty morality.
And so, Gu Lan began to explain in earnest.
"Our Death Soul City was once known as Sacred Spirit City. It has existed for centuries, always in quiet devotion to the God of Death, seldom interfering in the struggles of nations and sects. Yet that very seclusion led to decline. As more of our forebears devoted themselves to the Death God's embrace, our city weakened. What was once a flourishing underground metropolis began to wither, unable to keep pace with the world outside.
But then came our revival. When our current City Lord took power, he decreed that we could not fade into obscurity. Otherwise, Sacred Spirit City would indeed become a city of the dead. And so, he enacted reform—renaming us Death Soul City to declare our allegiance to the Death God, and opening us to the world. We began collecting Spirits as offerings, strengthening ourselves. Through tireless effort, our city has been reborn, rising once more.
To put it plainly—our Death Soul City's strength is in no way inferior to the so-called Upper Three Sects.
Our structure is one Lord, three Halls, and nine Protectors. The Lord, our City Lord, possesses at least Super Douluo strength. The three Halls are the Embryonic Light Hall, the Exhilarant Spirit Hall, and the Nether Essence Hall—each with distinct duties, each led by a Spirit Douluo at minimum. Beneath each Hall are three Protectors. I am the Heaven Protector of the Nether Essence Hall.
Originally, the requirement for a Protector was Spirit Emperor level or higher. But with our growth, all nine Protectors now stand as Spirit Saints. And this is only our upper echelon. Below us are countless Spirit Emperors, Spirit Kings, Spirit Ancestors. Across many cities of both empires, we maintain Spirit Envoys to gather Spirits for our cause.
Though we are not yet Spirit Hall's equal, once our strength reaches its peak, we will overturn them, and Death Soul City will spread to every corner of the continent!"
Gu Lan's eyes gleamed as he finished, staring intently at Qian Jue. "So, child, what do you think? Our Death Soul City is far from weak. Join us, and with your talent, you will be treasured. Under our cultivation, Title Douluo will only be a matter of time. Perhaps even Super Douluo lies within your reach."
He finished his grand vision, gaze fixed, awaiting Qian Jue's reply.
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