For the next full year, Chen Xin fought relentlessly in the Spirit Arena, earning victory after victory. With fifty consecutive wins and not a single defeat, he had become a force to be reckoned with—his skills honed through countless battles against fellow Soul Masters.
Now, he stood at the threshold of a major breakthrough. His soul power had nearly reached Level 30, the point at which he would require his third Spirit Ring.
But before that could happen, Zhongli had other plans.
The man who had guided Chen Xin with unwavering wisdom and silent strength now wished to expose him to a darker side of the world—one not found in the arena, but hidden in shadows.
As they walked along a mist-shrouded path beyond the city, Chen Xin turned to his master, curiosity tinged in his voice.
"Master, where are we going?"
Zhongli didn't answer at first. Instead, he raised his hand. In a shimmer of golden light, a strange book appeared in his grasp—an artifact bound in obsidian leather, its surface etched with ancient seals and faint whispers of malevolent energy.
"This," Zhongli said calmly, "is the Book of Evil. It records the names and sins of every vile Soul Master across the Douluo Continent—and beyond."
He flipped the book open. The pages turned on their own, as if guided by some unseen force, until one specific page slid free. Zhongli plucked it out and handed it to Chen Xin.
The moment Chen Xin's eyes fell upon the page, his expression darkened. His hands clenched as he read, his jaw tightening with each word.
"Ferid Bathory," he muttered, a growl beneath his breath.
The page detailed a Level 42 Evil Soul Master—a man with the Martial Soul: Blood Bat. Ferid's twisted cultivation method involved consuming fresh blood from living beings to temporarily boost his Soul Power. The younger and purer the blood, the more potent the effect.
But it was how he acquired this blood that sickened Chen Xin the most.
Ferid operated multiple orphanages under the guise of charity—"safe havens" for children left abandoned by war or poverty. In truth, these were nothing more than human farms, where orphans were raised as livestock, drained of their blood, and discarded like tools once they had served their purpose.
Disgust twisted in Chen Xin's stomach. His eyes burned with fury.
Zhongli watched him quietly.
"This is the world Evil Soul Masters live in," he said. "A world where power is pursued through horror and sacrifice. If you were given the chance to kill this man… would you do it?"
Chen Xin slowly looked up at his master, his gaze unwavering.
"I will kill him," he said coldly. "I will save those children—no matter what."
Zhongli smiled and said."Then let's go."
Chen Xin followed his master.
In the darkness of Ferid Bathory's orphanage, a flicker of family endured.
Yūichirō, with his choppy jet-black hair and piercing green eyes, was the fire—reckless, brave, and fierce in his loyalty.
Mika, calm and thoughtful, his wavy blond hair and blue eyes gentle yet watchful, stood as his anchor.
Akane, the delicate girl with her braid tied in a red ribbon, always smiled first.
Kōta, quiet and observant, trusted Yūichirō more than anyone.
Chihiro, the shy one with dark-blue hair and glasses, clung to her books and whispered dreams of safety.
Ako, small and cheerful, with twin pigtails and bobbles that bounced when she ran.
Fumie, soft-spoken with wise grey eyes.
Taichi, young but protective, often watched over the others like a little sentinel.
Together, they weren't just children sharing a building. They were a family, forged in fear and clinging to one another in the shadows of a house built on lies.
They had begun to suspect the truth. Whispers of missing children, the empty beds no one talked about, and the day one terrified boy fled to the village for help—only to be caught and dragged back. Before he vanished, he had warned Mika, trembling, "Their eyes... they weren't right. It's like they were controlled."
That was the final sign. Mika and Yūichirō could wait no longer.
The Escape
Their plan was daring—slip past the guards, take their siblings, and vanish into the night. And it worked. Almost.
They had made it to the village outskirts. Hope flickered.
But then—a chill.
A dreadful, unnatural presence crawled over their skin.
A sound—too soft, too wrong—made them freeze.
They turned.
Ferid Bathory stood at the edge of the road,
he was the picture of elegance twisted into something sinister. Tall and slender, his every movement carried an effortless grace—like a predator toying with its prey. His most distinguishing feature was his long, silvery hair, cascading down to his hips in silky strands. Twin locks framed either side of his pale face, while the rest was pulled back into a low ponytail, tied neatly with a black ribbon.
His bangs fell across his forehead in a tousled yet deliberate mess, shadowing his piercing, mischievous eyes.
Ferid's ears bore a pair of red, diamond-shaped earrings, which caught the light with each movement, glittering like drops of blood.
He dressed in fine, aristocratic robes—dark, flowing layers edged with silver and crimson. His clothes clung to him just enough to emphasize his willowy frame, while maintaining the appearance of nobility and control.
But beneath the composed exterior lay a monster.
He was holding Ako in his arms.
His lips were at her neck, drinking her blood.
She whimpered in pain, and the light in her eyes dimmed.
Ferid licked his lips and dropped her like trash.
"What a pity," he said coldly. "Her blood doesn't taste good enough."
Yūichirō snapped.
He fired his makeshift bow with shaking hands—rage guiding his aim. But Ferid dodged with effortless grace, the arrow sailing into the woods.
"I'm impressed, Mika," Ferid purred, flashing his fangs. "You've made this so entertaining. Let's play one more round, shall we?"
He gestured toward the road beyond. "Make it past me, and you're free. You'll even leave my influence. But…" he stepped forward, smile widening. "…can you make it there?"
Panic spread through the children.
Yūichirō shouted, his voice firm. "Everyone run! Mika and I will hold him off!"
They hesitated—but his scream sent them scrambling, tears streaming down their cheeks.
Mika stood frozen, torn between fight and fear. He knew the truth.
Ferid was a monster. An Evil Soul Master. A predator.
And they couldn't outrun him.
Just as Ferid dashed forward—faster than a blink, claws ready to butcher the children—
CLANG.
A sword gleamed in the moonlight, blocking Ferid's strike.
A boy stood in Ferid's path.
Chen Xin.
Ferid raised an eyebrow. The boy couldn't be older than sixteen. His spirit power—barely Level 30.
"Oh?" Ferid sneered. "A little Spirit Elder trying to play the hero?"
Chen Xin's voice was calm and unwavering.
"Move. I'll cover you."
Hope returned.
Mika and Yūichirō rushed forward, gently lifting Ako's pale body.
"Is she okay?" Taichi asked, tears in his voice.
"It's my fault," Mika whispered.
Yūichirō shook his head. "We'd all be dead if we stayed there."
Then a warm, serene voice cut through the cold."Nothing will happen to her."
They turned.
A tall man in a long robe stood behind them, ancient yet ageless—Zhongli.
He raised his hand. A soft green glow enveloped Ako. Her breathing steadied. Her wounds closed. Her eyes fluttered open.
Everyone gasped.
"He's here to help us..." Chihiro whispered.
"Is that brother with you?" she asked softly.
Zhongli smiled. "He is my student."
Meanwhile, Ferid—still trapped in the illusion Zhongli had cast—couldn't sense him. He still believed Chen Xin had come alone.
Arrogance filled his posture.
"Even if they run," he thought, "my puppets in the village will bring them back. There's no escape."
But he underestimated one thing.
Chen Xin wasn't just a Spirit Elder.
He was a student of Zhongli—and his resolve burned brighter than Ferid could ever imagine.
All the children suddenly felt relief, as they stood behind Zhongli. Who gave them safe and comfortable feeling.
While Yūichirō was still wary, but he knew the the other party didn't seem to have any ill intentions.
The forest edge was still—too still. Not even the wind dared to stir as Ferid Bathory stood across from Chen Xin, the faint moonlight cascading over his silver hair like liquid mercury.
Ferid smiled.
His crimson eyes gleamed, and his fangs poked past his lips.
"A Spirit Elder... daring to stand before me? How delightfully foolish."
He raised a pale hand. In an instant, red Soul Rings surged beneath his feet—four in total, glowing with eerie brilliance.
Behind him, his Martial Soul emerged.
The Blood Bat King—a grotesque, draconic bat with leathery wings, serrated claws, and glowing red veins—unfurled itself from shadow. Its wings spread wide, blocking the stars.
"Let's dance, little sword."
Massive bat-like wings burst out behind, increasing Ferid's speed. This was his Fourth Spirit Ring Skill Nocturnal Sovereign Wings had activated.
Ferid blurred.A loud whoosh echoed through the air as his form vanished into a streak of red light.
Red blur scattered across the battlefield like bleeding shadows, weaving unpredictably through the trees.
Ferid zipped around, striking with crimson energy claws, each lunge aimed to bleed or maim, not kill—he was toying with his prey.
But then—
CLANG!
Every strike was met.
Chen Xin's blade moved like flowing water—fluid, precise, absolute.
His expression calm.
It was like above him, nine spectral stars flickered into existence—each one an eye, glowing faint blue."Spiritual Eye – Ninefold Vision."
His perception shattered reality—Ferid's speed was no longer fast, not to him.
To Chen Xin, the battlefield moved in measured fragments, slow and predictable.
He stepped, twisted, countered.
Each claw parried. Each movement read. Each illusion—seen through.
Ferid hissed, annoyed now."You're a little more interesting than I thought."
His eyes glowed."Third Soul Skill—Hypnotic Mirage."
A crimson shimmer pulsed across the forest.
The air warped.
Chen Xin blinked.
Suddenly—
the trees were bleeding.
The bark wept red.
The sky cracked open like shattered glass, raining black flames.
And before him—
Zhongli stood, impaled on obsidian spears, eyes wide in silent agony.
"Master—?!"
Chen Xin took a step back, breath faltering. The illusion clawed at his mind, fangs sinking into his soul.
But—
Just as the vision tried to consume him—
CLINK.
One of his nine Spiritual Eyes ignited, burning like a blue sun.
"Useless."
His pupils narrowed. A silver slash of mental clarity tore across the illusion.
The illusion fractured like glass under a hammer.
The sky returned. The trees stood still.
Chen Xin's gaze was once again clear—sharper than ever.
Ferid's smirk faltered. "Tch. You're not easy to toy with."
With a snarl, Ferid lunged in close."Second Soul Skill—Blood Drain Fang!"
His fangs extended, gleaming scarlet. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, trying to bite into Chen Xin's neck.
But Chen Xin tilted just slightly—his sword already there.
SHHK!
Ferid's cheek was sliced. Blood sprayed.
He backflipped into the air, licking his own wound with satisfaction. "You drew blood. Now it's my turn."
"First Soul Skill—Crimson Echo."
A shriek echoed across the clearing, a pulse of red sonar emanating from Ferid's wings. The terrain lit up in his mind—trees, heartbeat patterns, hidden insects, everything.
"I'll return. And next time, I'll drink every last one of them dry—starting with the smallest."
He vanished into a crimson blur, wings spread wide, claws like scythes aimed at Chen Xin's throat. His speed was insane—faster than before, almost reckless.
Chen Xin didn't move.
But Chen Xin's eyes no longer held restraint.
He exhaled slowly.
His sword glowed.
With a faint hum, his soul power surged—flowing not explosively, but sharply, like a focused ray of divine light."You use your soul skills to toy with life. To bleed others for power. But my sword…"
"…my sword exists to protect."
He lowered his stance. Nine Spiritual Eyes rotated, locking onto Ferid's core."You won't touch these children again."
Chen Xin stepped into the air, his sword piercing forward with a motion as calm as a whisper.
The air shimmered around him, heat spiraling upward as his sword began to glow with golden intensity—light rippling from the hilt to the tip like a rising dawn.
Zhongli looked skyward.
"He's going to use it…"
The ground shook.
From the tip of his blade, a massive dragon of pure sunlight erupted into existence—its head formed of spiraling flames, its body a radiant coil of sword energy and burning will. The dragon roared with a divine fury, coiling around Chen Xin before surging forward with terrifying speed.
"Sun Halo Dragon Head Dance!"With a roar that shook the forest, Chen Xin lunged.
His sword strikes became a blur, each slash accompanied by a serpentine trail of fire. Solar arcs spiraled from his blade, forming the body of a dragon that mirrored his every movement.
Ferid's eyes widened.
"No—wait—"
Too late.
He tried to dodge—too slow.
Tried to summon illusions—too late.
Tried to fly back—but the dragon had already wrapped around him.
The dragon slammed into him, engulfing his body in golden fire, its maw snapping shut as it spiraled and twisted through the air, tearing apart shadow and illusion alike.
Ferid screamed—a high-pitched, inhuman shriek that echoed across the valley.
His body was lifted into the air, his limbs thrashing—
Each strike exploded with fire and force, carving through the air and into Ferid's body. His flesh burned, his limbs seared. The crimson of his aura was devoured by sunlight.
He screamed—a high, unnatural wail.
Ferid Bathory somehow got up.
Smoke coiled in the air.
Ferid Bathory—once elegant, arrogant, and cruel—was now a walking corpse. His silver hair was gone, reduced to blackened strands. His skin charred, flaking off like ash. His clothes hung in burned tatters, and one of his crimson earrings shattered.
He staggered.
"You…" he rasped, his voice no longer smooth and mocking, but hoarse and broken.
"You're just a child... Level 30... How…?"
Chen Xin didn't speak. He walked forward slowly, sword in hand, eyes sharp as obsidian. With each step, the fear in Ferid's crimson eyes grew.
The predator was now prey.
Ferid's legs trembled. He stumbled back and fell to his knees, blood bubbling in his throat.
"W-Wait… I am part of the Blood Knights… My brothers... they won't let you go if you kill me..."
But Chen Xin remained unmoved.
He raised his blade with both hands—the air around him shifted, his soul power gathering into one final, clean stroke.
From his feet, ripples of water flowed outward, calm and pure.
The water reflected Ferid's broken image—flawed, monstrous, hollow.
"First Form: Water Surface Slash."
A single breath. A single step forward.
The blade gleamed with flowing water, and in one clean motion—
SWOOSH.
The slash carved through the air and through Ferid Bathory's neck, like a falling stream cutting through stillness.
There was no scream. No resistance.
Just a moment of silence…
…before Ferid's body crumbled, collapsing like a puppet whose strings had been severed.
The surface of the water rippled one last time—and then stilled.
From the edge of the treeline, the children watched, awe in their eyes.
Mika whispered, "He… did it."
Yūichirō's fists clenched tightly. "That's what he deserved."
Her eyes fluttered open. She looked around, dazed.
Then she blinked once, her tiny voice breaking the silence.
"The bad man's… gone?"
Zhongli stepped forward, kneeling before her.
"Yes," he said softly, his voice as calm as still water.
"He will never hurt you—or anyone else—again."
Ako looked at him—those ancient golden eyes—and something in her small heart understood.
She reached out and wrapped her trembling arms around him.
And she cried.
Not out of fear, but from release. From the pain she didn't know she'd been holding in. From the nightmares that could finally end.
Zhongli held her gently, his hand resting on her back with great care, like holding something more fragile than glass.
"It's over now," he whispered.
The other children began to cry too—quietly, freely.
Mika closed his eyes and lowered his head.
Yūichirō placed a hand on Chen Xin's shoulder, silent, grateful.
Zhongli then approached, hands behind Chen Xin's back, nodding approvingly.
"Though technique… it still unrefined, but its your slowly getting more powerful. The Sword is beginning to know your heart."
Chen Xin turned to him, exhaustion in his face, but clarity in his eyes."It's not just for power… I want to protect those who can't fight. Like them."
Zhongli smiled faintly."Then you've taken your first true step… not as a fighter—but as a sword."