Bluesilver Devours Its Master

Chen Xuan's palm was knocked three feet away, leaving a numb, tingling shock in his hand.

He lowered his head to inspect it. His knuckles were slightly red, but uninjured. Yet the force rebounding from Tang San's body carried an utterly unfamiliar sense of law—one that belonged to no known soul power on Douluo Continent.

Tang San stood frozen in place, staring down at his right hand.

A wisp of deep-purple grass slowly unfurled from his fingertips. It was no longer the Blue Silver Grass he knew, with its gentle life force. Its stalk had become hard with a metallic texture, its blade edges sharp as knives, reflecting a cold gleam beneath the moonlight. He tried to circulate his soul power and draw it back, but the strand of grass seemed rooted to his finger and would not budge.

"Can't pull it back?" Chen Xuan flexed his wrist. There was no surprise in his tone, only the calm understanding of just as I thought.

Tang San ignored him and gritted his teeth as he activated the Mysterious Heaven Technique again. Blue internal energy surged through his meridians toward his fingertips, trying to forcibly suppress the foreign energy.

The next second, the strand of deep-purple Blue Silver Grass shuddered violently. Instead of retracting, it crawled another half inch up his wrist. The metallic sheen on its leaves flared, and a sharp soul power fluctuation carrying the distinctive fishy scent of vegetation slammed viciously into the internal energy of his Mysterious Heaven Technique.

"Pfft—"

Tang San gave a muffled groan, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth. The Mysterious Heaven Technique's internal energy was hurled straight back into his meridians, rampaging through his body and making cold sweat instantly break out across his forehead.

"Don't waste your strength." Chen Xuan settled back onto the recliner, casually picked up a piece of dried rations beside him, and took a bite. "That internal energy of yours can handle human soul power, but it can't control something the world's will stuffed into you. It isn't your martial soul anymore. It's your master."

In the shadows, Xiao Wu's breathing suddenly quickened.

She stared fixedly at the strand of deep-purple grass on Tang San's fingertip. The instincts of a hundred-thousand-year soul beast made every hair on her body stand on end. She knew that aura too well—it was the oppressive presence of the world's laws, the natural suppression of those above over those below. The heavenly punishment she had endured when taking human form had carried that same scent.

She instinctively stepped back, but her heel struck the brick wall around the training ground. There was nowhere left to retreat.

"Xiao Wu?" Tang San turned his head. Seeing her deathly pale face, his heart sank. Even Xiao Wu was afraid. That meant the situation was far more serious than he had imagined.

"It... it isn't Blue Silver Grass." Xiao Wu's voice trembled. She pointed at the blade of grass, her fingertip shaking as well. "Third Brother, it has the scent of the Heavenly Dao on it."

The Heavenly Dao.

Those two words struck Tang San's heart like a sledgehammer.

He had grown up listening to Yu Xiaogang's theories. Martial souls were the foundation of soul masters, and Blue Silver Grass was his starting point—the cornerstone of all his achievements. And now someone was telling him that his martial soul had touched upon the "Heavenly Dao"?

Chen Xuan gave a scornful laugh. "What Heavenly Dao? The worldline just thinks it treated its protagonist unfairly, so it's giving you some cheat powers. First it was the scales, and now it's directly changing your martial soul. What comes next? Changing your brain?"

He paused, looked at Tang San's pale face, and added, "Oh, right. Your brain was already changed. Otherwise, you wouldn't have believed your teacher's nonsense for over a decade."

Tang San lacked the strength to argue. All his attention was focused on that strand of grass at his fingertip. He could feel it moving. It did not move according to his will; it had a rhythm of its own, like a snake awakening from hibernation and tentatively stretching its body.

He tried moving his fingers.

The blade of grass immediately reacted—it swayed slightly with his motion, the metallic gleam flowing across its leaves as if it were syncing with him. But Tang San knew it was not synchronization. It was imitating him, learning from him, and then... replacing him.

"Whoosh—"

The grass blade suddenly shot out, moving so fast that it left only an afterimage.

Chen Xuan raised an eyebrow but did not move. The deep-purple blur streaked past his ear and embedded itself directly into the trunk of the old elm behind him.

"Crack."

An extremely soft, crisp sound rang out.

A cut two inches deep appeared in the trunk, which was as thick as a bowl. The incision was as smooth as if it had been made by the sharpest blade, every grain of the wood clearly visible.

Tang San's pupils contracted sharply.

Since when had his Blue Silver Grass possessed such destructive power?

No, this was not Blue Silver Grass. Blue Silver Grass was a control-type martial soul, naturally weak in attack. Even after acquiring soul rings, it could not possibly cut through a tree trunk this thick. This thing... was imitating some weapon he had seen before.

He suddenly thought of Chen Xuan's Earth-Splitting Claws.

That metallic sharpness. That ruthless, lethal force.

"It's learning from me." Chen Xuan stood and walked to the tree. Reaching out, he pulled the strand of grass from the trunk. It wriggled slightly in his palm, as if protesting, but Chen Xuan lightly squeezed it between his fingers. A burst of earth-attributed gravity instantly pressed down, and the grass obediently went still. "Learning my weapons, learning my fighting style. It thinks your Blue Silver Grass is too weak, unworthy of your current 'fate.'"

Tang San's lips trembled. He was not afraid. He was furious—furious in a way that felt deeply offensive, rising from the depths of his soul. His martial soul, his companion since childhood, was betraying him. It was even trying to replace him.

"Get it... off me." He gritted his teeth and forced out the words.

"I'd like to." Chen Xuan tossed the grass back into Tang San's hand. The moment it touched Tang San's skin, it immediately wrapped itself around his wrist again. "But it's symbiotic with you now. Purifying Erosion Dew can suppress the scales on your back, but it can't suppress this. It isn't an outside 'compensation.' It has directly altered the fundamental nature of your martial soul."

Just then, hurried footsteps sounded from the entrance to the training ground.

"Little San?!"

Flender's voice was hoarse with sleep and alarm. He and Yu Xiaogang rushed into the training ground one after the other, clearly alerted by the soul power fluctuations from earlier.

The moment they saw Tang San, both came to an abrupt stop.

Tang San was half-kneeling on the ground, his face pale and blood staining the corner of his mouth. A bizarre strand of deep-purple grass with a metallic sheen was wrapped around his right wrist. Chen Xuan stood beside him with a calm expression, still holding half a piece of dried rations.

"What... is this?" Flender frowned and strode forward, spinning the pipe in his hand, ready to act at any moment.

Yu Xiaogang did not move.

He stood where he was, staring fixedly at the strand of grass around Tang San's wrist. His expression changed from shock to confusion, then blankness, before finally hardening into something incredibly complicated and nearly despairing.

He recognized it.

Its foundation really was Blue Silver Grass. He could sense the life attribute contained within it—that was the mark of Blue Silver Grass. But its shape, its aura, and the cold killing intent it radiated were completely beyond the scope of every martial soul record he had studied over the past thirty years.

"A mutation... of Blue Silver Grass?" Yu Xiaogang's voice trembled, as though he could not believe the words leaving his mouth.

"Not a mutation." Chen Xuan spoke. His voice was not loud, but in the silent training ground, it was painfully clear. "A replacement. Your Blue Silver Grass was too weak, so the worldline upgraded it. Master, aren't you best at analyzing the evolutionary paths of martial souls? Go on, analyze this."

He pointed at the grass around Tang San's wrist. "Metallic texture, deep purple, attack power comparable to a Soul Elder's soul skill, and capable of acting on its own. Does your so-called 'martial soul evolution theory' have anything like this?"

All color instantly drained from Yu Xiaogang's face.

He wanted to refute him. He wanted to say that this was a beneficial mutation, a breakthrough evolution of Blue Silver Grass, another piece of proof for his theories. But when the words reached his lips, he found he could not say a single one. Because this thing before him truly existed in none of his books and none of his research cases.

For three years, he had taught Tang San every step Blue Silver Grass should take, every soul ring he should choose, and every effect each combination would produce. He had built a flawless, logically consistent system and pushed Tang San to where he stood today.

But now, Tang San's martial soul had broken free of his system.

What did that mean?

It meant that the work he had poured into those three years might have been wrong from the very beginning. Or rather, Tang San might never have needed his theories to reach this point—and might have done even better without them.

"Teacher..." Tang San raised his head and looked at Yu Xiaogang, his voice hoarse. "What is happening? My Blue Silver Grass..."

He wanted an explanation. Since childhood, he had been used to seeking his teacher whenever he had questions, used to his teacher giving him the standard answer. But this time, Yu Xiaogang's lips trembled, and not a word came out for a long time.

Flender could not bear to watch any longer. He stepped forward, blocking Tang San from Yu Xiaogang, and asked Chen Xuan in a deep voice, "What do you know, kid? What exactly is going on?"

"I've already said everything I know." Chen Xuan spread his hands. "Worldline correction. Martial soul upgrade. Simply put, someone took away an external soul bone that should have belonged to him, so the world's will felt it owed him and kept giving him special treatment. First came the physical mutation, now the martial soul mutation. Who knows what other surprises are waiting for him next?"

He looked at Yu Xiaogang, his eyes filled with undisguised mockery. "Master, does your theory include anything called a 'world will compensation mechanism'? If not, I suggest you go back and add a chapter. After all, your 'miracle' student has created another new research subject."

Yu Xiaogang swayed, nearly losing his footing. Flender hurriedly caught him.

Tang San watched the scene, and his heart hurt as though someone had gripped it in their hand. He had never seen his teacher look so disheveled, so... helpless. In his memories, Yu Xiaogang had always been the unfathomable, all-knowing master who never backed down, not even under pressure from Papal Hall. Yet now, a few words from Chen Xuan had completely crushed him.

"Chen Xuan." Tang San's voice was low, nearly pleading. "Help me."

Saying those two words was harder for him to bear than the pain in his back. He had always been proud. He never bowed his head, much less asked someone he looked down on for help. But at this moment, he had no other choice.

Chen Xuan looked at him for a long time.

Then he sighed.

"I knew you'd say that."

He stepped forward and pressed a hand against Tang San's wrist. This time, he did not use Purifying Erosion Dew. Instead, he directly mobilized the power of the Five Elements Flow. The heaviness of earth, the permeation of wind, and the vitality of wood blended together, forming an exceptionally gentle yet steadfast suppressive force that slowly seeped into the strand of deep-purple grass.

The grass struggled violently like a snake pinned at its vital point, twisting desperately as the metallic gleam on its leaves flickered on and off. Tang San could feel waves of burning pain from his wrist, but the previously uncontrollable agitation was indeed gradually calming down.

"I can suppress it temporarily." Chen Xuan withdrew his hand. The grass became quiet again, though it remained wrapped around Tang San's wrist and did not disappear. "But that only treats the symptoms, not the cause. It has already fused with you. Unless you destroy your martial soul, it will sooner or later completely take over your body."

Tang San's face turned even uglier.

Destroy his martial soul? How would that be any different from killing him?

"Is there another way?" Flender asked gravely.

"There is." Chen Xuan looked at Tang San, his gaze frighteningly calm. "Admit that your teacher's theory has flaws. Admit that the path you took is not the only righteous path. Admit that everything happening to you is not the result of your own effort, but of luck, compensation, and the world's favor."

"Do that, and I'll help you see this path through. Not with your teacher's methods, but with mine."

"I'll help you tame it rather than destroy it. Make it a power that truly belongs to you, instead of a puppet of the world."

Tang San fell silent.

He lowered his head to look at the grass around his wrist, then lifted his gaze toward Yu Xiaogang. The old man stood behind Flender, his back bent and his eyes hollow, as though he had aged ten years in an instant.

He remembered Saint Soul Village, when he had been little. The master had crouched before him and told him, "There are no useless martial souls, only useless soul masters." Back then, he had thought that this man was his salvation.

Now, that salvation had become shackles.

And before him stood a man holding the key.

"I..."

Tang San had barely spoken when the grass around his wrist suddenly tightened.

The previously dim metallic gleam on its leaves flared at once. A stream of deep-purple light spread up his arm, and wherever it passed, dark-blue patterns identical to the scales emerged beneath his skin. The clothes on his back tore apart once more, and the scales that had already receded erupted again.

Tang San groaned and collapsed to his knees.

Chen Xuan's gaze darkened.

"Too late," he said softly. "It can't wait any longer."

The strand of deep-purple Blue Silver Grass had now completely covered Tang San's right hand, like a metal-cast glove tightly fitted against his skin. The sharp edges of its leaves had even sliced through his sleeve, but no blood flowed out—the wounds instead shone with the same dark-blue glow as the scales.

Chen Xuan crouched down until he was level with Tang San, who knelt on the ground, and spoke each word distinctly:

"It has already begun choosing its master. It isn't you taming it."

"It wants to devour you."