The Continental Spirit Tournament had come to a thunderous end. The victor: Tang Clan's team—an unexpected force that had shattered expectations, humbled empires, and awakened every major faction on the continent. Their mysterious captain, wielding twin spirits and a devastating secret technique, had delivered a final blow that fractured even the iron defenses of Spirit Hall's champion team.
The 5-in-1 Strike had not only broken five spirit rings simultaneously but left a deep impression on all present. Even the titled Douluo watching from afar felt the terrifying ripple of that attack. It wasn't just power—it was perfection, born of ancient wisdom and forged under the guidance of a silent God.
But the true source of the strength—the one who did not appear—remained unknown to all.
Tang San, sitting in the depths of the Tang Clan's ancestral palace, closed his eyes in meditation. His aura had grown deeper, quieter, and more terrifying than ever. He had reached the very brink of Rank 99. His cultivation no longer advanced by years, but by insights. The Godhood he had created—of normal rank—was now crushed in his palm, destroyed willingly. What he sought was not a common divine path.
He desired a Supreme Godhood.
And so, he cultivated in silence, guided by ancient techniques he had uncovered during his early journeys—methods long lost to the world. With each year that passed, the Tang Clan's influence deepened. Its roots spread like veins beneath the continents, branching quietly into empires, sects, and trading networks. All of it under the direction of a man who remained hidden, never speaking unless necessary.
The technique he had passed on as the prize of the tournament—the upgraded 5-in-1 Strike—was already causing waves. Though only the captain of the Tang Clan's team knew it fully, whispers of its design spread rapidly. But the captain had been instructed with an important truth: "Use it only when death is certain. Otherwise, you will only invite greed."
The captain obeyed.
In the aftermath, the losing teams returned home bruised, but not empty-handed. Lessons had been learned. The talent that emerged from this tournament was monstrous, a sign that the world was changing. More and more youths were breaking through to Spirit Emperor before twenty. Some had twin spirits. Some wielded strange martial souls that defied tradition.
The age of titanic geniuses was dawning.
Still, none could ignore the influence of the Tang Clan. From its inner halls, new elders had been promoted: four new titled Douluo, each having reached above Rank 90 after years of guidance, resources, and modified cultivation paths. Tang San had even allowed limited use of one of his foundational techniques—an artificial talent-enhancing method usable once per life. It offered only a 10% boost, and only if the body could handle it. But it was enough.
Meanwhile, Spirit Hall, Sky Spirit Sect, and the other major powers met in secret. Each feared that the Tang Clan's rise was no longer a matter of chance. It was engineered, calculated, and—perhaps—guided by something... or someone… beyond mortal reach.
In private chambers, Bibi Dong grew quiet with worry. Qian Renxue, hiding her true identity within the empire, sent spies to infiltrate minor branches of the Tang Clan. She received nothing but failure. Some spies never returned.
Nine years had passed since Tang San stepped away from public sight. In that time, he built a fortress not of stone, but of ideology, trust, secrecy, and overwhelming legacy. His disciples knew one truth: the ancestors always watched.
Even when invisible, Tang San controlled the flow of events.
Now, back in the Tang Clan's headquarters, a sealed chamber beneath the lake of fire and ice glowed with unnatural light. Tang San sat alone, cross-legged. All nine of his spirit rings had surpassed 300,000 years. Their power was frightening, each with its own sentience. His twin martial souls harmonized perfectly—Blue Silver Emperor and Clear Sky Hammer.
And now… he was forging something new.
A weapon? A technique?
No. A seed.
A Godhood of Supreme rank—not granted, not inherited, but cultivated through insight, pain, and refusal to compromise. No shortcuts. No schemes. Only destiny carved by force of will.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes.
"They're coming."
Far away, on the other side of the continent, an ancient spatial rift cracked. Not from this world. Not from this realm.
And yet—Tang San smiled.
The real w