A hush fell over the battlefield.
Amidst the broken silence, Xiao Zhantian's eyes widened in disbelief, the breath catching in his throat. For a fleeting second, he simply stared—stunned—at Qian Yu, as though his senses had betrayed him.
That child… he thought, he just took my strongest blow head-on… and he's completely unharmed.
There had been no flash, no ripple, no defensive technique that he could perceive. It was as if his attack had simply vanished into the wind—or worse, had never mattered to begin with.
"Did he dodge it?" he murmured, voice barely audible over the hum of residual spirit energy. "No… that's impossible…"
Panic and awe began to crawl into his chest.
What kind of Spirit does he possess? And how can he move so fast?
Qian Yu stood quietly, expression unreadable but not unkind. A faint smile curled at the corners of his lips. His voice, when it came, was calm and collected—cruel only in its certainty.
"You've come looking for a fight," he said softly, meeting Xiao Zhantian's gaze. "So don't blame me when I wipe your entire clan from this city."
There was no bravado in his tone—just conviction. And it was this quiet confidence that unsettled those watching far more than any war cry could.
Behind Qian Yu, a chill stirred the air, subtle but unmistakable.
Unbeknownst to Xiao Zhantian and his followers, a Titled Douluo waited silently in the shadows, cloaked in darkness, observing with unblinking eyes. Even if Qian Yu faltered, he would not fall.
Which meant... he feared no one.
"You arrogant brat!" Xiao Zhantian roared, his fury boiling over. Spirit energy erupted from his body like a storm, pulsing with violent intensity.
A soul ring flared to life around him.
"Second Spirit Skill—Feral Wolf Charge!"
A colossal spectral wolf surged into being behind him, translucent but full of snarling menace. Xiao Zhantian lunged, propelled by the spirit of the beast itself, tearing across the battlefield toward Qian Yu like a falling star of vengeance.
Qian Yu chuckled—a sound light and effortless, as though he'd seen this all before.
"Well then," he said, "let me show you a glimpse of my strength."
He raised his hand, fingers slicing through the air like calligraphy. From his palm, light gathered and twisted, coalescing into a gleaming spear, long and obsidian-hued, humming with restrained power.
One by one, his spirit rings appeared—rippling like waves across a still lake.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"This… this can't be real…"
"I thought Qian Yu's Spirit was a mutated camellia blossom?" one of the academy instructors stammered.
"Wait—another Spirit? Does that mean… he's a Twin Spirit user?" another gasped.
In the world of Spirit Masters, this was nearly unheard of.
Qian Yu was already a top student, widely regarded as a prodigy. His mutated floral Spirit had been enough to place him far above his peers. But this—this was something else entirely.
The instructors had never seen him manifest a second Spirit. Until now.
And as they watched, the realization dawned—he didn't just have two Spirits. He had three.
And that wasn't all.
Two of his soul rings were black.
"Black rings…?"
"They're… they're Ten Thousand-Year Soul Rings?!"
"How can that be?!" came the murmurs from the stunned teachers.
In the shadows, hidden behind the curve of a pillar, Tang San and his teacher, Yu Xiaogang—the Grandmaster—stood frozen, staring at Qian Yu like they had seen a ghost step into flesh.
"Teacher," Tang San whispered, "didn't you once say a person can only have two Spirits—one inherited from their father, the other from their mother?"
"Yes…" Yu Xiaogang replied slowly, his voice caught between awe and panic. "That is one of the ten core laws of Spirit Theory."
"But…" Tang San's voice trembled, "this is the third time I've seen him manifest a different Spirit. The first time, it was the mutated camellia. The second, something wind-aligned. And now… a spear."
He swallowed.
"Could Qian Yu… be a Trinity Spirit user?"
The Grandmaster said nothing. His silence was answer enough.
There's no precedent for this… no theory, no rule. This boy defies the laws of Spirit Masters themselves.
"And those black rings," Tang San added, "you told me the average limit for a first ring is four hundred years… and the second is barely over seven hundred. How can he possibly have two Ten Thousand-Year Rings?!"
Yu Xiaogang shook his head, voice low and reverent.
"Little San… this boy is not bound by the same laws as us. Qian Yu is… a monster among monsters. A freak born to shatter destiny."
Back on the field, Xiao Zhantian stared in horror.
A spear had formed fully in Qian Yu's hand, sleek and deadly. The boy—no, the warrior—stood with it raised, calm as a midnight sea.
Qian Yu narrowed his eyes and took a single step forward. The spear shot out like lightning.
A shriek of metal and bone echoed through the air as Xiao Zhantian's own attack collided with the tip of Qian Yu's spear.
BOOM.
The clash shook the earth.
A pressure like thunder rippled outward, flattening grass and rattling armor. Spirit energy bursts in concentric waves from the collision point.
Then silence.
A moment later, Xiao Zhantian screamed.
His claw had shattered. Blood exploded from his hand, painting the air red.
"No—NO! This can't be happening!"
His body flew backward, thrown like a rag doll across the square.
"City Lord!"
Guards rushed forward, panicking on their faces. They reached their fallen leader, but he was barely conscious—face twisted in pain, one arm hanging limply, dripping crimson.
They had never seen him like this.
And Qian Yu… Qian Yu had only two visible spirit rings.
A Grand Spirit Master… took down a Spirit King at level 57?
The impossible had become real.
The teachers from the academy stood frozen, jaws slack.
"Just… What is he?"
"He's not human," one of them murmured. "He's a freak of nature—born to defy the heavens."
"If he survives to adulthood," another whispered, "he might just stand atop the entire continent."
Xiao Zhantian, humiliated and furious, snarled through gritted teeth, "Kill him! I don't care what it costs—kill him now!"
But even as he spoke, his spirit masters hesitated. Fear was plain in their eyes.
If their strongest leader had fallen with a single strike… what hope did they have?
They began to edge backward.
"Cowards!" Xiao Zhantian howled. "Any man who takes a step back—I will kill him myself!"
Reluctantly, the guards turned toward Qian Yu again, some gripping weapons with trembling hands.
Qian Yu stood tall, spear glowing faintly, his expression unreadable.
"You've chosen to die," he said softly, the wind catching his hair like a halo of midnight threads. "Then allow me to grant you your wish."
He stepped forward again.
Like a god of war descending.
And the night held its breath.
___________________
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