The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's Threat

At dusk, on the edge of the Soul Hunting Forest.

The bonfire danced in the twilight, licking at the Spirit Beast meat on the rack. Fat dripped down with a sizzle, and its aroma filled the air.

The young Zhao Linchuan leaned against the gnarled roots of a massive tree, firelight illuminating the sharp contours of his profile.

He tore into the roasted meat and gulped down strong liquor from a coarse clay flask. He paid no heed to the fiery liquor running from the corner of his mouth, letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Heh..." Suddenly, a faint yet abrupt rustle came from the nearby bushes.

A cold smile curled Zhao Linchuan's lips. "What? Can't hide anymore?"

"Since when did people from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect learn to burrow into the grass like rats?"

After a brief silence, a figure clad in luxurious embroidered robes stepped out. The emblem of a seven-tiered pagoda on his chest was clearly visible in the firelight.

The newcomer was around forty, with regular features and steady steps. He stopped several meters from the bonfire and clasped his hands in a solemn salute, his posture exceedingly humble.

"I am Ning Wuyan, an outer sect Elder of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect."

"I happened to be passing by and saw Your Excellency drinking alone. I did not dare disturb you."

"If I have caused any offense, I hope Your Excellency will forgive me."

"Save the pleasantries." Zhao Linchuan turned his head, his gaze sweeping over him like a cold sword blade. "You followed me from the city into these desolate mountains. State your purpose."

Ning Wuyan's heart tightened, but his respectful expression did not change. "Your Excellency is indeed perceptive."

"I have come at the command of the Sect Master and Bone Douluo to pay Your Excellency a visit!"

"The Sect Master thinks very highly of you and sincerely invites Soul Saint Zhao Linchuan to join the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect!"

"The sect is willing to treat you with the highest honors. Resources and status are all open to negotiation!"

"Not interested." Zhao Linchuan took a swig of liquor, the heat burning straight down to his stomach. His voice remained indifferent. "I have no intention of joining any faction. I only wish to cultivate in peace."

Ning Wuyan bent even lower, his tone earnest yet edged with hidden intent. "Your Excellency has reached the rank of Soul Saint at such a young age. Becoming a Titled Douluo is within reach!"

"Yet the path of a lone traveler is difficult!"

"With a sect at your back, giving you its full support, your road will surely be smooth!"

"The sect's treasury is deeply stocked. In the future... even hunting a legendary Hundred-Thousand-Year Soul Ring for you would not be impossible!"

"You investigated me?" Zhao Linchuan's gaze turned icy at once, and the air seemed to freeze. "Or do you think that without your 'help,' I can't become a Titled Douluo?"

Before his words had faded, seven heart-palpitating Soul Rings erupted from beneath his feet!

Purple! Purple! Black! Black! Black! Black! Pale pink!

Those Soul Rings, defying all common sense, burst forth with vast, chilling pressure like an invisible tsunami!

The bonfire was instantly suppressed until only a faint flame remained. A sharp, murderous aura locked Ning Wuyan in place, stopping his breath!

"You think—" Zhao Linchuan's voice was like a frigid wind from the Nine Netherworlds. His dreamy yet dangerous pale-pink Seventh Soul Ring flickered faintly. "—that I, Zhao Linchuan, cannot personally hunt a Hundred-Thousand-Year Soul Beast?!"

Cold sweat soaked through Ning Wuyan's inner robes. Suppressing his terror, he spoke in a trembling voice, "Y-Your Excellency, please calm your anger! I meant no such thing!"

"It is only that... geniuses who die young are never true geniuses!"

"Spirit Hall has been growing increasingly aggressive in recent years, expanding everywhere, recruiting allies, suppressing and even eliminating talented dissidents!"

"Your Excellency possesses extraordinary talent and exceptional strength, yet you have no powerful faction to protect you!"

"If one day you incur Spirit Hall's suspicion or fall victim to its schemes, what then?"

"The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect is willing to safeguard Your Excellency!"

"After going around in such a big circle..." Zhao Linchuan suddenly laughed, his laughter cold enough to pierce the bone. "Crack!" The coarse clay flask in his hand was crushed into powder in an instant! "So this is a threat?"

"I would never dare!" Ning Wuyan felt his soul leave his body. His waist nearly bent to a right angle as his forehead slammed heavily to the ground!

He hurriedly pulled a Black Card with secret silver patterns along its edges from his collar and raised it above his head with both hands, humble as dust.

"Please calm your anger, Your Excellency! Regardless of your wishes, this is merely a small token of the sect's respect for a strong person! I beg you to accept it!"

A flash of azure light, and the Black Card landed in Zhao Linchuan's hand.

With a slight release of Soul Power from his fingertips, he immediately knew its balance: one million Gold Soul Coins.

A faint, utterly warmthless smile tugged at his lips. "The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect is as rich as a nation. Its reputation is well deserved."

"One million Gold Soul Coins as a 'meeting gift' on our first encounter. Quite the generous gesture."

"It is only a small token and hardly worthy of mention! If Your Excellency joins us, what you receive will be far more than this!" Ning Wuyan's voice trembled, revealing his wish to take his leave. "If Your Excellency has no further instructions, I... shall excuse myself!"

"Get lost." Zhao Linchuan waved a hand casually, his gaze cold as though he were looking at a corpse.

Ning Wuyan felt as though he had been granted a pardon. He carefully backed away, not forgetting to add, "Please rest assured, Your Excellency! The sect has already concealed your previous traces!"

"Outsiders have no definite information regarding your Soul Ring configuration!"

"You will no longer need to live in such seclusion!" With that, he remained half-bowed as he slowly edged beyond the reach of the firelight. Only after disappearing into the darkness did he dare straighten up, letting out a long breath before fleeing as though for his life.

Zhao Linchuan weighed the icy Black Card in his hand and sneered inwardly. No reason to refuse free money.

He put the Black Card away, tapped the ground with his toes, and his figure rose like a ghost before landing steadily on a thick branch.

The bonfire crackled as its light gradually dimmed. Zhao Linchuan leaned against the trunk.

"Troublesome..." he murmured, almost inaudibly.

He closed his eyes, but sleep would not come.

He had come to this world sixteen years ago, and time had seemed to freeze around him.

Until a few days ago, when his fingertips brushed against an almost imperceptible roughness, he had suddenly realized—the gears of those stagnant years had finally begun to turn again.

Sixteen years had passed in the blink of an eye, yet they had also been as long as imprisonment.

This body carried him, yet it seemed as if an invisible barrier separated him from everything, leaving him to watch the upheavals of Douluo Continent with cold detachment.

He had seen magnificent mountains and rivers, and he had smelled the stench of bloody storms.

The world was vast. He wanted to see it, to do something, to change something...

Yet those "stories" churning in the depths of his mind, those paths he clearly "knew" yet was powerless to alter, had now become heavy weights pressing against his heart.

Without strength, everything was an illusion.

In this world, where strength was inscribed by Martial Souls and truth measured by fists, speaking idly of ideals was nothing more than courting death.

The final faint glimmer from the bonfire's dying embers struggled to illuminate his composed profile, outlining his tightly pressed lips and the hard line of his jaw.

An invisible pressure, heavier than what he had felt when facing Ning Wuyan, spread from the depths of his heart.

It was not fear, but... the suffocating feeling of being bound, watched, and swept along by the torrent of fate.

He silently clenched his fist, his knuckles letting out a faint crack in the darkness.

The Soul Power coursing through his body roared soundlessly, while those seven Soul Rings that defied all reason seemed to burn fiercely in the depths of his bloodline.

The pinnacle?

Unseen in the shadows, Zhao Linchuan's lips curved into an almost wild smile.

What he wanted was far more than the peak of this continent.

Since the rules had already been trampled beneath his feet, then he might as well—

Break through the heavens!

With this power that shattered all common sense, he would personally measure just what lay at the end of the Soul Master's path!

He would stand atop that ultimate peak, and then...

Do what Zhao Linchuan wanted to do! Change the endings he wanted to change!

The bonfire went out completely, and its final wisp of smoke vanished into the cold night air.

Beneath the tree, there was no longer the slightest sound. Only a pair of eyes slowly opened in the darkness, sharp as an unsheathed sword, reflecting the stars filling the sky and burning with silent ambition.