Feather Light Douluo

Spirit Hall City.

Located at the intersection of the Heaven Dou Empire and the Star Luo Empire, it is known as the holy land for soul masters on the continent.

The entire city is built against a central holy mountain, rising in magnificent, towering tiers. The Pope's Palace sits at the primary position on the mountainside, its imposing presence overlooking the masses. Surrounding it are the Elder Halls, connected in a solemn and dignified display.

Above the Pope's Palace, at the very peak of the mountain, lies that which countless soul masters spend their entire lives looking up to but can never reach—the Douluo Hall.

Legend has it that only the supreme powerhouses who have reached the Title Douluo realm are qualified to step into that hall.

However, few people know that in a hidden location slightly below the Douluo Hall and above the Pope's Palace, there lies an inconspicuous hall.

The hall is not large; one might even call it plain. It lacks the golden splendor of the Pope's Palace and the solemnity of the Elder Halls. With walls of grey stone and a roof of green tiles, it is nestled among ancient pines and cypresses, making it difficult to notice unless one is intentionally searching for it.

Yet, this seemingly unremarkable hall bears a name that makes the entire Spirit Hall tread with caution.

The Offering Hall.

One of the four core halls of Spirit Hall.

Those who possess a seat here are, without exception, beings standing at the very pinnacle of the continent's food chain.

The night had not yet faded, and the first light of dawn was just beginning to show.

Two figures broke through the air and landed on the stone steps before the entrance of the Offering Hall.

Qiangu Jun and Qiangu Po.

They had traveled in haste, covered in the dust of their journey. The hem of Qiangu Jun's black robe was stained with dirt and grass clippings, while Qiangu Po's hair was disheveled by the night wind, with several stray strands clinging to his forehead.

Pressed tightly against Qiangu Jun's chest was a coarse cloth bundle. The tiny body inside the bundle remained fast asleep, its breathing light and long, like an oil lamp that might go out at any moment, yet continued to burn with stubborn tenacity.

The two pushed open the heavy stone doors of the Offering Hall and strode inside.

The main hall was vast and empty, with an incredibly high vaulted ceiling and a forest of stone pillars. The eternal lamps on the candelabras emitted a faint glow, shrouding the entire hall in a warm and tranquil halo.

"Yo!"

A clear, resonant voice rang out from the depths of the hall, carrying a hint of laziness and mockery.

"Thousand Might, Demon Subduing, you two brothers have finally returned!"

Following the voice, a figure emerged from the shadows.

It was a... boy? Who looked no more than seventeen or eighteen years old?

Or perhaps a girl?

The face was handsome and delicate, with features so refined it was nearly impossible to distinguish the gender. The skin was as white as jade, and a pair of long, narrow phoenix eyes tilted slightly upward, the corners carrying a natural air of elegance. The temperament was cold and ethereal, as if untainted by the mortal world.

A moon-white robe inlaid with gold was draped over the figure, cinched at the waist by a dark silver belt embedded with several unknown gemstones that refracted fine, shimmering light under the candlelight.

The long hair was casually tied up with a jade hairpin, with a few stray strands falling by the ears, adding a touch of unruliness.

Seeing Qiangu Jun and Qiangu Po walk in, the youth's eyes lit up, as if he had been waiting a long time and had finally found something interesting.

"How was your trip to the Far North?"

The youth hurried over, circling the two men and asking questions in a rapid-fire manner.

"After this tempering, did it help you take your intended staff techniques a step further? This old man has been looking forward to it! That concept you mentioned before you left—the one about channeling the essence of heaven and earth into the staff—did you verify it? Were the celestial phenomena in the Far North violent enough? Did you find suitable references?"

The youth trotted around them in circles, speaking at a breakneck speed, much like a bird brimming with curiosity.

He even referred to himself as "this old man."

Paired with that seventeen-or-eighteen-year-old face, the dissonance was extreme.

"There's a glimmer of progress," Qiangu Jun replied casually, his tone flat, though he did not stop walking.

Qiangu Po looked at the youth circling them and sighed, reaching out to hover his hand over the other's head. "Feather Light, I'd say you aren't young anymore, yet you insist on calling yourself 'this old man' every day, even though you act like a child. Can't you be a bit more steady?"

That's right.

This "youth" who looked no more than seventeen or eighteen was none other than the Fifth Offering of the Offering Hall—

Feather Light Douluo.

A Title Douluo.

In the ranking of the Offering Hall, Thousand Might Douluo Qiangu Jun was ranked sixth, and Demon Subduing Douluo Qiangu Po was ranked seventh.

In other words, this fellow who kept saying "this old man" and bouncing around like a half-grown child held a higher status than the brothers Qiangu Jun and Qiangu Po.

Feather Light Douluo's lips curled, completely unbothered. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin in a show of feigned maturity.

"So what? Demon Subduing, you don't seem to have much respect for this old man!"

His phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, his tone laced with three parts playfulness, three parts smugness, and four parts self-righteousness.

"My ranking in this Offering Hall is higher than yours. By rights, you should be paying your respects when you see me. I'm not holding it against you, yet you're the one lecturing me first?"

Qiangu Po rubbed his temples, too lazy to engage.

His older brother did not stop his stride, walking straight toward the depths of the hall. Qiangu Po followed closely behind.

Feather Light continued to mutter to himself, trotting along to keep up.

However—

The moment he reached Qiangu Jun's side, Guang Ling's footsteps suddenly faltered.

His cold, phoenix-like eyes constricted sharply, his gaze locked firmly onto the coarse cloth bundle in Qiangu Jun's arms.

Just moments ago, his mind had been entirely occupied by staff techniques and the journey to the Far North; he hadn't noticed this detail at all.

But now—

Since he was close, that faint yet exceptionally unique aura of life could no longer escape the senses of a Titled Douluo.

"Something's wrong."

Guang Ling's expression shifted instantly.

The playful demeanor was swept away, replaced by a sharp, grave solemnity on his handsome face.

"Qiangu."

His voice dropped, and he even forgot to use his formal self-reference.

"What is that in your arms?"

As he spoke, Guang Ling raised his hand, intending to reach out and pull back the coarse cloth.

Qiangu Po shifted to the side, extending an arm to block him.

"Don't be hasty."

Although Guang Ling's hand was intercepted, his gaze had already caught a glimpse of what was inside through a corner of the lifted cloth.

—To be precise, he saw a child.

A small face, pale to the point of translucence. Two topknots. A faint, unblemished vermilion mark between the brows.

The child slept quietly, as if all the clamor of this world had nothing to do with him.

Guang Ling froze completely.

His phoenix eyes went wide, his mouth slightly agape, remaining stiff in his reaching posture.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Three breaths.

"Good heavens—"

Guang Ling stumbled back two steps, one hand covering his mouth while the other pointed at the bundle in Qiangu Jun's arms. His expression was a kaleidoscope of emotions—shock, disbelief, sudden realization, and the raging fire of gossip—all cycling rapidly across that ageless face.

"This is... this is..."