Douluo Continent, within a distant and unfamiliar land, lay a forbidden place unknown to countless powerful beings.
There was no alternation of sun and moon here, no changing of the seasons—only an endless, unchanging silence and desolation.
Enormous dragon bones stretched across the boundless darkness. Even the smallest dragonkin skeleton was dozens of meters long, and the ancient dragon might lingering on their jagged bones was enough to shatter the minds of Titled Douluo-level powerhouses.
Deeper within, the remains loomed like mountains. The supreme laws of the Dragon Clan were etched into their bones, and though countless ages had passed, they still radiated a pressure that made heaven and earth tremble.
At the very heart of this Dragon Graveyard stood a circular altar paved with Dragon God Crystal Jade. Nine dragon-shaped patterns wound out from its edge, finally converging upon an enormous dragon crystal, a hundred meters in diameter, at its center.
This was the last remnant of the Dragon God's source core, left behind after the Dragon Clan's progenitor had fallen—the Dragon God who had once stood as an equal to the Five Great God Kings of the Divine Realm.
For countless years, the dragon crystal had remained dormant, as lifeless as this burial ground. Only the faint, occasional flow of dragon patterns bore witness to its former glory, when it had stood above all living beings.
Until this day.
The timeline of Douluo Continent had reached the Peerless Tang Sect era, when the Heavenly Soul, Star Luo, and Spirit Empire stood in a three-way balance, the Tang Sect had fallen into decline, and Shrek Academy held sway over the Soul Master World.
Ten thousand years had passed since the Battle of Jialing Pass, the destruction of Spirit Hall, and Sea God Tang San's ascension to the Divine Realm with the other gods.
Ten thousand years was enough to turn seas into mulberry fields, to reduce a once-dominant empire to a reviled villain in the history books, and to make the world forget entirely that an Angel God had once stood at the pinnacle of power on the continent.
And on this very day, the Dragon God Core deep within the Dragon Graveyard finally stirred.
First, an exceedingly faint golden light flashed within the depths of the dragon crystal, like a star dormant for billions of years igniting its first glimmer.
Then came a second, a third... Countless golden streams of light surged through the dragon crystal like giant dragons awakening.
The dragon crystal, once cold and lifeless, began to radiate heat. Its dim dragon patterns lit up one by one, golden light piercing through the crystal to illuminate the entire empty altar—and the Dragon King remains surrounding it, towering like mountains.
"Vmmm—"
A deep hum spread from within the dragon crystal. It did not travel through the air; it resounded directly through every inch of the Dragon Graveyard, shuddering in the depths of every dragon bone's soul.
The next second, the entire Dragon Graveyard erupted.
Golden dragon patterns blazed across countless bones at once. The dragon might dormant for countless years burst forth like a tidal wave. Skeletons that spanned the darkness trembled faintly, and dragon souls let out low roars.
From dragonkin to true dragons, from true dragons to Dragon Kings, every Dragon Clan remnant sent the most reverent resonance of blood toward the dragon crystal at the center of the altar.
It was an imprint carved into the deepest reaches of the Dragon Clan's bloodline—the call of their progenitor's return.
Countless golden streams of light within the dragon crystal finally gathered into a hazy dragon-shaped phantom. It radiated supreme pressure, transcending every law. Even a mere wisp of its awakened will was enough to make the entire Divine Realm tremble.
After lying dormant for countless ages, the Dragon God's will had finally awakened completely within this Dragon Graveyard.
The phantom slowly opened its eyes: golden dragon pupils that held the birth and death of stars and the cycles of the universe.
Its gaze swept across the entire Dragon Graveyard, across the Dragon Clan remains that had lain dormant for billions of years, and finally fell upon an ice coffin on the other side of the altar, shrouded in endless golden light and frigid air.
The coffin was carved entirely from ten-thousand-year-old mystic ice, its surface engraved with countless intricate angelic patterns. Holy golden divine light and extreme cold intertwined, forming a flawless seal that shut out everything within and without.
A woman lay inside the coffin.
Her long golden hair shone like sunlight, and her skin was as fair as snow. Her features were exquisitely beautiful, and even with her eyes closed, she could not hide her innate nobility and pride.
Exclusive angelic patterns were etched into her golden gown. Though she had lain dormant for ten thousand years, not a trace of the holy aura of a god had faded.
She was Qian Renxue, once an Angel God and the last young mistress of Spirit Hall.
Everyone believed she had perished with the destruction of Spirit Hall, but no one knew she had slept for a full ten thousand years in this Dragon Graveyard, cut off from the world.
A complicated emotion flickered in the Dragon God's eyes. His deep voice seemed to come from an age before time itself as it slowly pierced the coffin's seal and echoed in the depths of Qian Renxue's soul. "The appointed time of our ten-thousand-year pact has come. Qian Renxue, it is time to wake."
The instant the voice fell, the angelic patterns on the coffin blazed to life, answering the golden light of the Dragon God Core.
Qian Renxue's consciousness, asleep for ten thousand years, broke free of its endless deep-sea shackles and slowly awakened at the sound of the summons.
Memories surged in like a tide, finally settling upon the blood-soaked Jialing Pass of ten thousand years ago.
Ten thousand years ago, the blood-red setting sun blanketed the battlefield atop Jialing Pass. Broken weapons and dried blood littered the ground, while the corpses of Spirit Hall Soul Masters lay in heaps. The once-glorious Spirit Hall Empire had reached its end.
Bibi Dong lay in her arms. The Rakshasa God's divine position had shattered completely, and her body was slowly dissolving into translucent specks of light.
This mother, who had lived her entire life in hatred and scheming, had finally cast aside every disguise in her last moments. All that remained in her eyes was boundless weariness and regret.
"Xue'er... I'm sorry..."
Those were the last words she left Qian Renxue.
As her voice faded, her body dissolved completely into specks of light and scattered in the wind.
Qian Renxue knelt on the ground, her arms empty, with only the last trace of her mother's warmth lingering on her fingertips. She raised her head and looked at the man in the air, clad in blue Sea God Divine Armor and holding the Sea God Trident.
Tang San—that was the man who had destroyed everything she had.
He had shattered her Angel Godhood completely in their recent battle. She had fallen from a lofty god to a mortal, with less than a tenth of her divine power remaining.
Her mother had died at his hands. The Spirit Hall she had spent her life protecting had crumbled, and the armies of Heaven Dou and Star Luo had already breached Jialing Pass, advancing at full speed toward Spirit City.
She was the sole heir to the Angel God's line, the future hope of Spirit Hall. But now, she had nothing.
The pride carved into her very bones had been crushed. The glory she had pursued all her life had turned to dust, and the faith she had upheld had shattered into pieces.
Tang San looked down at her without murderous intent, only a detached indifference that bordered on pity.
He had not killed her. He had merely crippled the cultivation she had left, then said, "Spirit Hall is destroyed. Take care of yourself," before turning away.
But to Qian Renxue, this so-called "mercy" was more painful than death.
She was a descendant of the Angel God. Her pride would not allow her to accept an enemy's charity, much less watch everything she had protected vanish into ash.
That day, the blood at Jialing Pass stained her eyes red.
What followed was an endless flight.
Heaven Dou and Star Luo joined forces and issued an order to purge the remnants of Spirit Hall. Every Soul Master registered with Spirit Hall, no matter their rank, was to be killed without exception.
Overnight, the once-exalted Soul Masters of Spirit Hall became rats crossing the street, loathed by everyone.
Qian Renxue led the few Spirit Hall survivors still left, hiding and fleeing wherever they could.
Among them were the last Titled Douluo of Spirit Hall, loyal Soul Douluo, young Soul Masters whose Martial Souls had only just awakened, and elderly people and women and children from Spirit City who had lost their families.
They were Spirit Hall's last embers. They had nowhere to go, and could only follow her, the last young mistress of Spirit Hall.
She had seen a Titled Douluo of rank ninety-five hold off the pursuers alone so the main group could escape, only to self-destruct his Soul Rings and leave not a trace of his bones.
She had seen a teenage Soul Master use his body to block the enemy's blades and protect his companions. When he died, he still clutched Spirit Hall's insignia tightly in his hand.
She had seen women and children who had lost their husbands and fathers bow to her and call her "Young Mistress," even when they were starving.
Every time she saw this, Qian Renxue felt as if a knife were slicing through her heart.
She hated Tang San. She hated him for destroying Spirit Hall and leaving so many people without homes.
Even more, she hated herself—hated her own helplessness, hated that she had failed to protect her mother, failed to protect Spirit Hall, and failed to protect those who had followed her.
She had thought about ending it all, but she couldn't.
If she died, the few Spirit Hall survivors left would truly have no hope.
She had to live, even if it meant scraping by like an ant, just to preserve the last spark of Spirit Hall.
Just as she was at her most despairing and helpless, on the verge of giving up, that voice entered her sea of consciousness.
It was a deep, majestic voice, brimming with boundless power, as though it came from before the dawn of creation, from the deepest reaches of the universe.
"Descendant of the Angel God, Qian Renxue. Do you wish for revenge? Do you wish to rebuild your divine position and reclaim everything that belongs to you? Do you wish to make Spirit Hall's glory shine once more upon the world?"
Qian Renxue instantly grew wary. Her shattered divine sense snapped taut, and she shouted, "Who?!"
"I am the Dragon God."
The instant those two words fell, Qian Renxue's soul trembled violently.
There was no other reason: the forbidden name simply carried that much weight.
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