The boy turned his head, scanning the quiet courtyard. The only sounds were the rustling leaves and the distant chirping of sparrows.
Old Li’s tone grew uncertain.
“…You are correct. It might have been a mistake. When I expanded my divine sense, I found nothing. Only squirrels darting along the branches, and a few birds nesting near the eaves.”
But his words carried a rare hint of doubt.
Chen Dao frowned but quickly tightened his grip on his sword, dismissing the unease. “Then I’ll continue, Old Li. I mustn’t slack off.”
What neither of them realized was that, just outside the courtyard walls, hidden within the shade of a golden oak, stood a blonde girl.
Her gaze lingered on Chen Dao, her eyes shimring faintly with an unfathomable light. Qian Renxue.
She had concealed herself so thoroughly that even the residual soul of a mighty sword master had only felt the brush of her presence. Her spiritual detection folded around her like veils of silk, erasing her traces from the world.
Her lips curved into the faintest smile as she thought:
‘The residual soul of a mighty sword master who have just touched the realm of demigod is not enough to detect . If it was the complete soul , I would have been wary’
In a way it can be said powered by faith, Qian Renxue had also barely touched Godhood in spiritual power.
‘However this is not another debauched reincarnator, but one bound to nine ancient swordsn. Interesting… Very interesting. The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan has unknowingly birthed sothing troubleso.”
She tilted her head, studying Chen Dao’s crude swings. The boy was drenched in sweat, but every movent was focused, brimming with earnestness.
----
Across the Douluo Continent, two pieces of news spread like wildfire, igniting discussions in every tavern, teahouse, and city street.
The first was a solemn announcent: the Pope of Spirit Hall had passed away. By decree of the Hall, any soul master above the Soul Ancestor realm was invited to Spirit City to pay their respects. The funeral, set two month later, would allow plenty of ti for all to prepare. For many, it was not just a ceremony but a chance to witness Spirit Hall’s grandeur and perhaps asure the future direction of the most powerful organization on the continent.
The second piece of news struck the soul master world with shock and doubt. It claid that the Clear Sky Clan, long hailed as the strongest of the three great clans, had now chosen to withdraw and go into seclusion. Worse still, a rumor circulated that their most infamous son, Tang Hao, had been exiled for offending Spirit Hall. Though the source of this news was murky, no one could disprove it. The silence of the Clear Sky Clan itself lent weight to the whispers.
What no one knew the one who was fanning the flas of these rumors were the Hermit Order hidden in plain sight.
----
In a dusty little tea stall at the corner of a bustling city, two middle-aged n sat across from one another, steam rising from their chipped porcelain cups. The benches were old, the tables uneven, but the topic of their conversation was sharper than any blade.
One man leaned forward, his voice hushed but tinged with excitent.
“Did you hear? The Clear Sky Clan’s finished. To shut their doors like frightened turtles… tch! The so-called number one clan reduced to hiding in the mountains. And they say it’s all because of Tang Hao.”
The other man chuckled bitterly, shaking his head.
“That Tang Hao is a reckless fool. Imagine, clashing with Spirit Hall! Did he think his hamr could overturn the heavens? The Clear Sky Clan had a glorious na, but now? They’re shad. Exiling their own young master—what a disgrace.”
He continued “ I heard that their previous Clan Leader is gravely ill and his life and death is unknown”
The first man slamd his cup down, his voice growing more animated “ You only know this. Let tell you from what I have heard, the Second Elder, a titled Douluo from Clear Sky Clan died due to heavy injuries after the conflict with Spirit Hall.”
“Mark my words, brother, this is the beginning of their decline. Without face, without standing, how can they still call themselves the strongest clan?”
The other nodded, lips curling with contempt.
“Hah! Strongest clan? Not anymore. Spirit Hall rules this age. The Clear Sky Clan is nothing but a relic clinging to its past glory.”
---
Not far away, at a dim corner table, a man with long, disheveled hair sat alone. His ragged cloak could not conceal the broad shoulders and the silent, suffocating pressure that clung to him like a storm about to break.
It was Tang Hao.
The tea cup in his hand cracked, then shattered into shards as his grip tightened unconsciously. Tea dripped down his scarred knuckles, but his eyes—dark, bloodshot, and burning—were fixed on the two gossiping n.
Slowly, he stood, his figure towering over the stall as he turned and walked away. The murmurs of the tea stall faded behind him, replaced by the heavy pounding of his own heartbeat.
When he reached a quiet stretch of road outside the city gate, Tang Hao’s fury erupted.
With a thought, a black-gold hamr materialized in his hand—the Clear Sky Hamr, vast and domineering, radiating a murderous aura that seed to suffocate the very air.
His voice was low, but it carried the venom of a wounded beast.
“You mudlegs… you dare to insult my clan? You are not worthy of even speaking our na.”
(Author notes: The propagation of news in dieval world like Douluo Dalu is very slow, unless soone is purposely doing it. Tang Hao’s anger has not yet dissipated properly before he knows the calamity his clan is now facing. What do you think he will do?)
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