Shrek Academy.
Tang San's sleep was rudely broken.
"Who… who are you?" he asked in shock, eyes widening.
One moment he had been resting quietly in the dormitory. The next—he was seized, dragged away, his limbs bound by spirit power he couldn't resist. The middle-aged man in front of him was strong, impossibly strong. Tang San's instincts screamed he was no match for him.
"I am your uncle."
Tang San froze.
"…Uncle?"
His mind buzzed. Recently, since Tang Hao's battle with Martial Soul Hall, countless strangers had been approaching him, all claiming connections. A self-proclaimed "aunt" had appeared just days before. And now—now an uncle?
How many relatives was he supposed to have? Or were they just wolves seeking to trick him?
"Yes. Your uncle," the man said with calm authority, tightening his grip on Tang San's shoulder before soaring into the night sky above Tian Dou City.
Tang San's blood boiled. Captured again? He refused to remain helpless.
"Hmph!"
With a grunt, the Eight Spider Lances erupted violently from his back. Eight glistening purple blades pierced toward the man's vital points—throat, eyes, heart, unhesitatingly vicious. Tang San's trust had limits, and those limits had already been tested too often.
Yet instead of fear, the man… smiled.
"Not bad." His gaze flickered with admiration.
To possess a soul bone at this young age—his nephew was truly extraordinary. Perhaps even destined to surpass his father.
But before Tang San's strikes could land, an immense aura surged from the man's body. Spirit power as vast as mountains crushed the Eight Spider Lances mid-air, freezing them motionless before they could touch him.
"Smelly boy," the man scolded, his voice half-proud, half-condescending. "Behave. When you arrive at Clear Sky Sect, you'll have all the chances you need to show off."
"…Clear Sky Sect?" Tang San blinked in shock.
Just as suspicion rose further in his heart, a dark voice cut through the cold night.
"Tang Hao!!"
The words cracked like thunder. And from above Tian Dou City, two silhouettes descended like blade shadows through the air.
Yue Guan. Ghost Douluo. The duo who had slaughtered countless Clear Sky disciples in that bloody battle years ago.
Tang Xiao, face grim, instantly summoned his Clear Sky Hammer. Its oppressive might exploded outward, his fury unmistakable.
These two… he could never forget. In his Sect's blood-stained memories, they were demons. Their shadows haunted every Clear Sky clan member; Elder after Elder had fallen beneath their hands. His hatred ran bone-deep.
Beside him, Tang San's eyes widened, the hammer in Tang Xiao's hand reflecting bright in his gaze.
At last… it clicked. Martial Soul couldn't lie. Everything else could be deception, but Martial Souls could not.
"…You really are my uncle."
Tang Xiao's answer was blunt. "Follow me." His tone was final, his hammer gleaming like molten iron.
"Tang Xiao…!" Yue Guan hissed, grinding his teeth at the sight.
When Platinum Bishop Salas first sent word that Tang Hao's son was hiding in Shrek Academy, they had been decisive, planning an ambush. They wanted to trap father and son both, strike Tang Hao where it hurt most, and end him.
They had rushed here hungry for blood and advantage—yet instead of Tang Hao, they found another nightmare. Tang Hao's elder brother.
And Clear Sky Sect's current leader.
"Chrysanthemum, Ghost," Tang Xiao growled as the spirit rings circled his hammer, "don't prattle. The two of you come together—I'll face you as one."
The hammer pointed forward at them, aura pressure surging forth like an ocean wave.
"Haotian Sect… you dare reemerge?" Ghost muttered coldly.
But before further words could cut the storm—another presence arrived.
From the skies, draped in purple-gold robes, a scepter in hand, descended Bibi Dong herself.
Her elegant body floated regal above, poisonous aura dancing around her. The Pope of Martial Soul Hall.
Tang Xiao's core clenched.
If it had been Yue Guan and Ghost alone, he could perhaps fight through with Tang San and carve out escape. But now Bibi Dong herself…
This could mean death.
Bibi Dong gazed calmly down at them. "Leave this child," she commanded, her voice golden with power. The scepter lifted, and invisible pressure fell directly upon Tang San.
Tang Xiao's body stirred with defiance.
"…Do you think that's possible?"
His hammer gleamed brighter, crimson-dark aura flaring. Even if he couldn't win—even if he died—he would never hand Tang San over. Handing him over was not only betraying his brother—it was betraying the honor of Clear Sky itself.
If he faltered here, Clear Sky's prestige would crumble forever, and his own name would become a joke upon all tongues of the continent.
Better to die, battered bloody with hammer in hand, than to yield once.
The tense silence stretched taut as bowstring.
Then—
Bibi Dong's gaze cooled like steel.
"Clear Sky Sect… very good." Her voice rang sharp. "I, Bibi Dong, will remember this."
She flicked her scepter and turned her gaze toward Yue Guan and Ghost.
"Let them go."
The two Titled Douluo blinked, stunned.
"…Pope?" Yue Guan stammered, disbelief thick. "Let them go? Why? He's Tang Hao's son, an opportunity right—"
Bibi Dong's voice cut like frost. "Didn't you hear me? Let. Them. Go!"
Her eyes, venomous with silent calculation, didn't waver. Killing Tang Hao's brother, Clear Sky's Sect Leader, would not just provoke Tang Hao—it would provoke the entire Sect. A direct declaration of civil war. With the continent's current balance, Martial Soul Hall could not afford to bare its throat so carelessly.
Yue Guan trembled, swallowing his fury, and stepped aside. His expression twisted, but he could only obey.
Inside, he cursed Salas a thousand times. If only that idiot Bishop had reported this earlier. A few days sooner, and Tang San would have been captured before his uncle ever appeared.
Now, the chance was ruined.
Tang Xiao carried Tang San far from Tian Dou City, the night wind sharp against their skin. Only after a long distance did he finally ease, sweat cooling against his temples.
If not for Bibi Dong's wary restraint, tonight might have been their graves.
"Are you really my uncle?" Tang San asked at last, uncertain.
Tang Xiao gave him a long look. "…What do you think?"
Tang San's eyes drifted toward the hammer at his side and fell silent. Martial Soul could not be faked.
"…Then you're taking me back to Clear Sky Sect?"
"Of course. You've seen it yourself now, haven't you?" Tang Xiao's voice was deep. "Martial Soul Hall has already set eyes on you. They'll use you as bait to lure your father. If you stay here, you'll only hurt him further. You must come with me."
Tang San's chest tightened. He knew it was true. And yet—
"I understand… but… I want to return. At least once. Back to Shrek Academy. My classmates don't know. My teachers don't know. Xiao Wu—she doesn't know! Leaving them all suddenly… they'll worry. They won't understand. Xiao Wu especially—what if she—"
His words choked.
Tang Xiao's heavy voice boomed over him. "Stop dreaming, boy. Return? You nearly died tonight, yet you ask to return? Use your brain! No one in Martial Soul Hall lets prey slip twice."
His grip tightened and carried Tang San higher into the dark sky, faster.
"You're Clear Sky Sect blood. Your path isn't among children anymore. Hold your tears."
Tang San turned his face away, the night wind cold against his eyes.
He didn't know when—if ever—he'd see Xiao Wu again.
From tonight onward… he was gone.
--
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