Clearing Dragon Fighting World

Zhong Shenxiu, who had transmigrated to Douluo Continent, was an orphan.

When he woke up, he was the only one left in this world—or rather, only the identity of "Zhong Shenxiu" remained.

His memories contained only the white walls of the welfare institute and the gentle yet formulaic smiles of the uniformed staff. They told him that he had been found at the edge of a forest on the outskirts of Dongshan City, with nothing on him that could prove his identity. The only thing he carried was an ancient jade pendant engraved with the character "Zhong."

He remembered that he was not from this world.

Those memories were vague and fragmented: towering buildings, electronic devices with flickering screens, machines that could fly without Soul Power... and a place called "Earth."

But those memories seemed separated by a layer of frosted glass, impossible to see clearly. All that remained was an intense sense of dissonance—and the nightmares that came without fail every night.

Because of his rebirth, he had been taken in by a welfare institute under the Sun-Moon Federation from a young age.

The welfare institute had a simple name: Dongshan Third Children's Welfare Institute. It was a five-story building housing over thirty children with nowhere else to go, just like him.

There was plenty of food, their clothes were clean, and the staff were reasonably responsible, yet the air was always permeated by a faint loneliness that could not be dispelled.

Zhong Shenxiu did not fit in very well.

It was not because he was withdrawn. He was simply too tired.

Every night, after the other children fell asleep, his awareness would be dragged into another world—a world filled with slaughter, flames, and darkness.

There, he became a dragon, one that stood on two legs and possessed sharp claws, fangs, and hard scales.

There, he fought and died, then woke at dawn with exhaustion and pain that did not truly exist.

He often dozed off during class in the daytime.

During theory lessons at the elementary academy, while the teacher explained the principles of Soul Power circulation, Martial Soul classifications, and basic knowledge, his head would gradually droop until it finally rested on his desk.

At first, the teachers reprimanded him. Later, they gradually grew accustomed to it—his grades were decent; he merely always seemed low on energy. They did not know that what this child experienced in his dreams was far crueler than anything taught in class.

Until he turned six and awakened his Martial Soul.

It was a bright, sunny morning. The children in the welfare institute who had reached the age of six lined up, waiting for the Spirit Master sent by the Dongshan Spirit Pagoda to awaken their Martial Souls. Zhong Shenxiu stood in the middle of the line, his eyelids heavy.

The night before, a Star Dragon wreathed in purple flames had torn off his wings in his dream. Even now, the sensation of falling from the sky made his stomach churn.

"Zhong Shenxiu."

He stepped forward and entered the prepared Soul Guide Array.

The Spirit Master was a stern-faced middle-aged man. He pointed a finger, sending streams of golden light into the array. Warm power rose from Zhong Shenxiu's feet and flowed into every part of his body. He felt something within him awaken—a scorching, radiant force surged from deep within his spine and rushed through his meridians.

A deep dragon's roar escaped his throat involuntarily.

Golden light gathered behind him, forming an illusory dragon silhouette. Its body was slender and covered in pale golden scales. Though its wings were still immature, their shape had already begun to emerge. Most striking of all were its eyes—bright as though two tiny suns had condensed within them.

"A dragon-type Martial Soul, with a light attribute."

The Spirit Master's eyes lit up, and a hint of warmth entered his voice. "Come, test your Innate Soul Power."

A crystal ball was handed to Zhong Shenxiu. He stretched out his hand and pressed it against the cool surface. The warm current within him flowed through his arm, and the crystal ball suddenly lit up with a steady, brilliant glow.

"Innate Soul Power... Rank Eight!" The Spirit Master's voice carried obvious surprise.

The entire awakening room fell silent for a moment before whispers erupted.

The children from the welfare institute might not have understood what Rank Eight Innate Soul Power meant in the world of Soul Masters, but the staff knew—this was enough to let the child escape mediocrity and step onto an entirely different path.

From that day on, Zhong Shenxiu's treatment at the welfare institute quietly changed.

His meals became more generous, he received new clothes, and he even got a small room of his own.

The director personally spoke with him, his tone gentler than ever before. "Shenxiu, work hard. When you become a powerful Soul Master in the future, you will not only change your own fate, but also contribute to the Federation."

Zhong Shenxiu merely nodded. He did not resent those changes—after so many nights of fighting for his life, he regarded any kindness from the real world with an almost numb indifference.

Deep inside, that exhaustion had never faded.

The increase in Soul Power brought by Rank Eight Innate Soul Power seemed only to improve his energy slightly during the day, while the nightmares still arrived on time every night.

The three years at the elementary Soul Master academy passed quickly.

Theory classes, basic Soul Power cultivation, and simple Martial Soul applications.

Zhong Shenxiu's Light Dragon Martial Soul stood head and shoulders above those of his classmates, drawing gasps of admiration every time he released it. Yet he rarely displayed it voluntarily. Most of the time, he simply cultivated and attended class as though completing tasks, then returned to the welfare institute, collapsed onto his bed, and waited for another night of torment.

The world in his dreams gradually became clearer. He learned that it was called Dragon Fighting World, that the invading dark forces were led by a terrifying being named Black Death Dragon, and that he, as a Dragon Fighting Warrior, needed to keep fighting and clear one stage after another.

He could recite the names of those stages by heart: volcanoes, ice fields, forests, labyrinths... Each place was guarded by different Star Dragons, and every Star Dragon possessed unique, deadly abilities.

He died countless times.

Blaze burned him into charcoal, ice pierced his heart, poisonous mist corroded his organs, and gravity crushed his bones.

Every death brought pain so real that it made him tremble. Then, when he woke in reality, cold sweat soaked his bedsheets and his heart pounded wildly.

His only consolation was that, as he fought in his dreams, his control over his Martial Soul in reality seemed to improve in subtle ways as well. His perception of light became sharper, his Soul Power circulated more smoothly, and he could even vaguely draw upon a trace of the battle instincts of that dragon from his dreams.

But the price of that improvement was too great—over the past nine years, he had not slept peacefully even once.

Until last night.

On the eve of his ninth birthday, Zhong Shenxiu once again stood before Black Death Dragon in his dream.

It was a mountain range corroded by darkness, with a palace at its summit and purple cracks spread across the sky.

Black Death Dragon stood amid the ruins, its scarlet eyes burning in the darkness. Its body was as massive as a mountain, and every breath it exhaled spewed black mist that corroded everything it touched.

This was his three hundred and twenty-seventh challenge.

Every previous attempt had ended in crushing defeat.

But this time was different.

Perhaps nine years of accumulated battle instinct had finally undergone a qualitative change. Perhaps despair had given rise to power beyond his limits. Perhaps he had simply been lucky—Zhong Shenxiu did not know. He only knew that when Black Death Dragon's enormous claw came crashing down, he did not dodge as usual. Instead, he charged straight at it.

Light exploded within him.

It was not the gentle light of his Light Dragon Martial Soul in reality, but a blazing, domineering radiance that seemed capable of burning everything to ash. His dragon claws tore through Black Death Dragon's defenses, his dragon breath pierced one of its eyes, and at last, amid Black Death Dragon's shrill roar, he leaped onto its head, clenched both claws into fists, poured every ounce of strength into them, and smashed down viciously.

The sound of a skull shattering echoed throughout the dream.

Black Death Dragon's body began to disintegrate, turning into countless black specks of light.

The darkness receded, and the shattered earth revealed its original form—a vast, ancient world that now held nothing but crumbling ruins.