While the entire Douluo Continent was embroiled in chaos—due to the Soul Beast Tide and Fierce Beasts resurfacing, before returning to a calm, none of it had anything to do with a single child sitting quietly on a remote mountain slope behind a small, unremarkable village.
The wind whispered softly across the back mountain of Holy Spirit Village, rustling the grass and carrying the faint scent of morning dew. The first rays of dawn spilled over the horizon, bathing the boy in gold and violet hues.
The child sat cross-legged on a smooth rock, motionless, his posture steady, breathing slow and asured like a seasoned cultivator. His short, black hair fluttered faintly, and his dark-blue eyes seed ordinary, until, for a fleeting mont, they turned a deep shade of purple, gleaming with mysterious light.
He was practicing Purple Demon Eye, a core technique of the Mysterious Heaven Treasure Record—of the Tang Sect, cultivated by absorbing the purple qi of the rising sun at dawn.
He was Tang San, the one who would one day be called the “Son of Destiny.”
He had been reborn in this world six years ago, a soul reincarnated from another era, another life.
Before his rebirth into Soul Land, Tang San had been a disciple of the Outer Sect of the Tang Sect, renowned for its mastery of poison and hidden weapons
Driven by a thirst for forbidden knowledge, he had broke into the Inner Sect’s sacred library, stealing the secret scrolls reserved for the Tang Sect’s highest mbers.
And when his cri was discovered, knowing there was no redemption left for him leapt off Hell’s Peak to his death.
He had expected oblivion.
Instead, he had awakened in the body of an infant.
Now, six years later, Tang San slowly opened his eyes as the sunlight crept higher over the mountains. His pupils glowed faintly violet before returning to their deep blue hue.
‘Purple Demon Eye—Survey Realm.’
He thought to himself calmly, his mind as sharp as a blade.
“My sight can now penetrate mist and motion. I can clearly observe even the faintest twitch of a leaf in the wind.”
He smiled faintly, feeling the surging life within his small body.
“When I awaken my martial soul, I’ll finally be able to circulate the Mysterious Heaven Skill (Xuantian Gong) properly… then my path as a Soul Master will begin.”
He tilted his head toward the rising sun, a glint of nostalgic warmth flashing through his eyes.
“Soon, I’ll et Xiao Wu again… at Nuoding Junior Soul Master Academy.”
The thought filled his heart with an unfamiliar emotion—sothing between joy and longing.
But then, as the morning light sharpened, his expression changed.
His brows furrowed slightly.
“...No.”
“Sothing feels off.”
He could not explain it, but ever since he had started regaining fragnts of mory—mories that should have belonged to his future self, a God King this world had begun to feel different.
“The tiline… has diverged.”
He murmured to himself, eyes narrowing as the purple light shimred again.
“The Spirit Hall shouldn’t have reached such dominance. And the Soul Beast Tide it never happened in my mory.”
Tang San’s gaze turned toward the distant horizon, where unseen forces were already shaping a future beyond his foresight.
He clenched his small hands into fists, determination burning behind those tranquil eyes.
“Still, it doesn’t matter. Whether this world has changed or not… I’ll rise again.”
Tang San stood up and ran back from the hill toward the village, his small figure darting past the mist-covered fields. The faint scent of morning dew filled the air, and from afar he could already see the faint smoke curling up from the chimneys of Saint Spirit Village.
To his mild surprise, Old Jack was already waiting near the village gate, his wrinkled face carrying a rare look of excitent.
“Tang San,” the old man called out with a kind smile, “you ca just in ti. I was waiting for you.”
Tang San slowed down, blinking. “Elder Jack, are you waiting for ?”
Old Jack chuckled, his hands clasped behind his back. “Of course. Today is an important day, my boy. It’s the day when you awaken your martial soul!”
Tang San paused, acting startled. “Really? Today?”
“Yes,” Old Jack said, stroking his white beard proudly. “Before that, though, we’ll all gather for the morning prayer to the Angel Goddess. You mustn’t miss it.”
Tang San’s eyes dimd slightly, and his voice cooled. “Elder Jack, I’ve already prepared breakfast for my father. He doesn’t like being disturbed in the morning. How about I skip the prayer today?”
Old Jack imdiately waved his hands. “No, no, no! That won’t do, Tang San. It’s only ten minutes at most. You never attend the prayer as it is. The Angel Goddess blesses all of us—especially children about to awaken their martial souls. You should be thankful.”
Tang San lowered his gaze, suppressing the sneer that nearly escaped his lips.
‘The Angel Goddess…’
He thought coldly, ‘Why should I pray to a so-called goddess I’ll one day trample beneath my feet?’
Out loud, he said flatly, “I’m not going to attend. If you want to awaken my martial soul, You should ask Father for permission myself.”
The old man frowned deeply. He knew Tang San’s father was a recluse—the village’s silent blacksmith who rarely spoke to anyone, living in his own gloomy world of liquor and shadows. Convincing him was near impossible, yet Old Jack couldn’t help but try again.
“Tang San, child, I’ll talk to your father personally,” he said, his voice softening. “But you should co to pray. It’s a special day, and who knows? The goddess may bless you with a powerful martial soul.”
Before Tang San could answer, a voice cut in from the side.
“My, my. Such bold words from a child.”
----
Author Notes: I thought a lot before allowing Tang San the protagonist of Douluo Dalu to have future mories. With the level Qian Renxue is at , Tang San is nothimg but an insect trapped in amber. So, I took the concept of multiverse (which is canon) from the Soul Land series where multiple parallel tilines exist to make the story a little interesting.
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