Douluo Calendar 2631
Douluo Continent, on the border of the Star Luo Empire, in an unnamed desolate mountain.
A once-in-a-century rainstorm was raging, with gale-force winds carrying large raindrops that pounded hard on the muddy road, attempting to wash away the thick, nauseating smell of blood in the air.
"cough--"
A suppressed cough echoed from the depths of the dense forest. A burly but staggering figure parted the thorns and stumbled into a hidden cave halfway up the mountain.
The newcomer was an old man, his once proud black hair now matted and plastered to his face by rain and blood. He was panting heavily, holding a twelve-foot-long spear upside down in his hand. The spear was entirely black, radiating a chilling aura that sent shivers down one's spine; it was none other than the infamous, top-grade weapon spirit of the Douluo Continent—the Soul-Breaking Spear.
However, at this moment, the light of this deadly weapon was extremely dim, and there were even several chips on the blade.
The old man was none other than Yang Wudi, the patriarch of the Po clan and an 82-level Soul Douluo.
As soon as he entered the relatively dry cave, Yang Wudi's legs went weak and he knelt on one knee. Ignoring the deep, dark purple claw mark on his back that revealed the bone, he frantically untied the waterproof animal skin cloak that was tightly bound to his chest.
The cloak parted, revealing a boy who was being carefully protected.
The boy looked to be five or six years old, and miraculously, despite the turmoil and fighting, he was completely untouched by blood or rain. His name was Yang Yuntian, the grandson of Yang Wudi, and the only surviving member of his lineage in the Po clan.
"Yun Tian... Yun Tian, are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?" Yang Wudi's voice was hoarse like sandpaper rubbing. His bloodshot old eyes were fixed on his grandson, and his rough hands trembled. He didn't even dare to touch the boy's thin shoulders.
Yang Yuntian didn't speak. He just calmly looked at the old man in front of him, who was known as "stubborn and irritable" in the original work. But now he looked like an old wolf that had lost its territory and cubs, his eyes filled with fear and despair.
Just two hours ago, in order to cover their breakthrough of the Spirit Hall's last blockade, Yang Yuntian's parents—two Soul Emperors at level sixty-something—resolutely burned their lives and charged back into the pursuing group composed of Soul Saints and Soul Douluos.
Not even bones were left behind.
As a transmigrator with memories of his past life, Yang Yuntian has lived in this small body for more than five years. He has clearly felt his parents' love and deeply understands what what just happened means.
Is it sad? Of course. That suffocating feeling of having your heart squeezed tightly by an invisible hand is undeniable.
But he didn't cry. Because he knew better than anyone else that in this world of Soul Masters where power belongs to oneself, tears are the cheapest and most useless excrement.
"Grandpa, I'm fine." Yang Yuntian finally spoke, his childish voice sounding exceptionally clear in the empty cave, even carrying a chilling calmness. "On the contrary, if you don't treat the wound on your back soon, the poison will invade your heart. At that time, I won't be able to move you."
Yang Wudi was suddenly stunned.
He looked at his grandson, who had always seemed more mature than his peers. Having experienced the loss of both parents, the destruction of his family, and a bloody escape, even an adult would be mentally broken by now. Yet this child was actually reminding him to tend to his wounds? And there was even a hint of helpless mockery in his tone?
"You...you're not afraid?" Yang Wudi's eyes were red and his voice was choked with sobs.
"I was scared. When that Spirit Hall Soul Douluo's claws were only half an inch away from me, I even thought of my epitaph." Yang Yuntian took out a small jade bottle from his pocket. It was a special antidote and healing medicine made by the Breaking Clan. "But luckily, Grandpa, your gun is faster than his. So, now that we've survived, we should think about what to eat tomorrow, instead of competing here to see who sheds more tears."
There was no other way. Although he was really upset, this pressure became a driving force. He buried his feelings of repression, not wanting to vent them or make his grandfather even more heartbroken. He gave himself motivation and a direction!
He stepped forward, stood on tiptoe, and handed the jade bottle to Yang Wudi.
Looking into his grandson's clear, deep eyes, as calm as a still pond, Yang Wudi's surging grief and indignation were miraculously suppressed.
He took the medicine bottle, tilted his head back and drank it down, then slammed his fist heavily against the rock wall, sending shards of rock flying.
"The Spirit Hall... Bibi Dong!" Yang Wudi gritted his teeth, and with the mournful thunder outside the cave, every word seemed to be ripped out from the depths of his chest, mixed with blood and foam. "The hatred of killing my son, the grudge of severing my clan! I, Yang Wudi, swear to the heavens that if I do not avenge this, I will not be a human being!"
The intense emotional turmoil aggravated the severe injury to his back, causing Yang Wudi to cough up a mouthful of dark purple blood, his entire body instantly hunching over. This man, once as tough as iron and with a fiery temper, now appeared incredibly old and fragile.
"Yun Tian... Grandpa was wrong..." His hands trembled. "Over the years, you've been reminding us, both openly and secretly, to be wary of the Haotian Sect and the Tang family... But I was always intoxicated by the glory of being the 'affiliated family of the number one sect in the world,' and I treated your warnings as childish nonsense... I regret it so much! I regret it so much!!"
Hearing the old man's desperate cries, Yang Yuntian silently added a piece of dry firewood to the fire.
The firelight illuminated his calm face, which belied his age. Ever since he transmigrated and learned that he had been born into the Broken Clan, he had repeatedly pointed out the hidden dangers beneath the Clear Sky Sect's "overheated" rise and fall. Unfortunately, under the illustrious halo of the number one sect, the adults had long been accustomed to blind obedience and dependence. His cold analysis based on the objective situation only earned him a pat on the head from the elders, followed by a dismissive laugh.
Fortunately, everything has a response.
Fortunately, his years of "alarmist talk" had eventually planted a seed of prevention in the hearts of his father and grandfather, allowing the Po clan to secretly prepare an escape plan over the past few years. Therefore, although tonight's attack by the Spirit Hall was devastating, most of the collateral branches and younger members had already escaped through secret passages under the cover of night, preserving the family's foundation.
As for his parents...
Yang Yuntian lowered his eyes, concealing the sadness in them. The reason why those two Soul Emperors, both over level sixty, chose the most resolute counterattack, a fight with no chance of survival, was not only to buy time for the grandfather and grandson to break through, but also to atone for their tragic sins of not being able to heed their son's advice against the prevailing opinion, which led to the main branch being trapped in a deadly situation.
Although he was a time traveler, how could he remain indifferent after spending several years together?
There's no other way right now, but if I have the chance to cultivate, I will surely grind that Soul Douluo who's been chasing me to dust in the future!
Crackling sound.
A burst of sparks flew from the firewood. The torrential rain outside the cave continued to rage, but the air inside seemed to have frozen solid because of the emotions intertwined with grief, regret, and overwhelming hatred.
After a long pause, Yang Wudi murmured...
"Yun Tian..." Yang Wudi's voice was hoarse, yet it carried a sorrowful air of having seen through the cruel laws of the Soul Master world. "The Spirit Hall is hunting us down because of our stance, because of Qian Xunji's death! They are tyrannical; they want to eliminate all traces of their enemies. This is the ironclad rule of the victors taking all. I am no match for them, and even if my entire family is slaughtered today, I have nothing to say. But—!"
He stopped abruptly, his battered body trembling violently uncontrollably. His large hands, gripping the Soul-Shattering Spear tightly, had knuckles that had turned a ghastly white from the extreme force.
"But that beast Tang Hao! He caused a catastrophe and then just ran away! To protect themselves, the Clear Sky Sect showed no responsibility whatsoever, directly announcing a complete closure of the mountain!" Yang Wudi suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, like a raging lion driven to the brink of despair, his grief-stricken roar echoing through the cave. "The main sect caused trouble, hiding in its shell and playing dead, while pushing us, their affiliated families who risked our lives for them, out to take the fall! The Spirit Hall wants us dead because we're in their way; but the Clear Sky Sect... they're just watching us go to our deaths!!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Yang Wudi closed his eyes in pain, and two streams of turbid tears of blood rolled down his cheeks and hit the cold rocks.
As one of the four single-attribute clans that were once most loyal to the Haotian Sect, the sense of betrayal from being abandoned by his lord like trash, and the despair of his faith, which he had upheld for decades, collapsing in an instant, caused him far more unbearable pain than the deep, bone-revealing scars on his back.
"Grandpa, just because I don't have deep-seated hatred doesn't mean I intend to let this go." Yang Yuntian stood up, walked to the cave entrance, and looked at the gradually lessening night rain outside. His young figure was stretched long in the firelight. "I just think it's not worth turning myself into a madman whose mind is only filled with killing for the sake of revenge. That's not winning, that's rotting away with them."
(End of chapter)