Those Who Know the Times Are Heroes

A short, stout old man emerged from the inner room.

He was very short, only about five feet three, but his waist was astonishingly thick. His whole body resembled an upright wine barrel. His prominent ears stood out sharply, while his small eyes narrowed into slits, glinting with shrewdness in the candlelight.

Lou Gao.

The president of the Blacksmith Association, one of the few remaining master smiths on the continent.

His gaze fell upon Huo Yuhao's chest—upon that Six-Winged Angel emblem. A meaningful glint flashed through his small eyes before vanishing at once.

"Come in," he said, stepping aside.

Huo Yuhao and the other three followed him into the inner room, with Tuoba Xi entering as well. He was deliberately concealing his identity at the moment, dressed in Spirit Hall's standard armor like an ordinary Spirit Hall soldier.

The door closed behind them.

It was a spacious office, its walls covered in all kinds of blueprints and finished products—swords, shields, armor, mechanical components, and metal structures whose purposes were impossible to discern. At the center stood a huge ironwood desk piled high with books and drawings.

Lou Gao walked behind the desk and sat down. Titan stood at his side, his eyes fixed vigilantly on Huo Yuhao and the others.

Huo Yuhao did not sit.

He stood before the desk, looked at Lou Gao, and got straight to the point.

"We want the Blacksmith Association to merge into Spirit Hall."

The moment he finished speaking, Titan sprang to his feet like a startled cat and roared.

"Impossible!"

His voice echoed through the cramped room like a thunderclap. His square face flushed crimson, and his eyes were filled with fury.

The pressure of a Titled Douluo descended in an instant.

It came from behind Huo Yuhao.

The "soldier" in standard armor who had remained silent all this time now had nine Soul Rings rise beneath his feet.

Two yellow, two purple, five black.

Nine Soul Rings.

A Titled Douluo.

A massive, ferocious earth dragon phantom emerged behind him—the White-Armored Earth Dragon. Its body was covered in golden scales, its enormous jaws spread wide to reveal chilling fangs.

Tuoba Xi.

The master of the Saint Dragon Sect, one of the Lower Four Sects, a level ninety Titled Douluo.

Titan's expression turned extremely ugly.

He recognized the man.

"Tuoba Xi?!" His voice was full of disbelief. "When did you become Spirit Hall's dog too? And you're even working as a bodyguard?"

Tuoba Xi looked at him, the corner of his mouth lifting into a mocking smile.

"Titan," he said slowly, "just because you like being a dog doesn't mean everyone else is like you."

He paused, his smile deepening.

"You used to be Tang Hao's teacher, yet you insisted on becoming his dog instead. Tsk, tsk."

Titan's face instantly turned the color of pig liver.

"You!"

His martial soul possessed him instantly. The Mighty Gorilla roared behind him as eight Soul Rings lit up. He took a fierce step forward, fists clenched as muscles bulged all over his body.

Tuoba Xi showed no weakness either. The White-Armored Earth Dragon threw back its head and roared, while his nine Soul Rings blazed brightly.

The auras of a Titled Douluo and a Soul Douluo collided within the cramped room, and even the air seemed to freeze.

The atmosphere was on the verge of exploding.

Huo Yuhao stood where he was without moving.

He merely looked at Lou Gao.

The short, stout old man sat behind the desk with no expression on his face.

"Titan."

Lou Gao spoke.

His voice was not loud, but it entered everyone's ears clearly.

Titan did not move.

"Titan." Lou Gao called again, his voice heavier this time. "Sit down."

Titan turned to look at him.

Lou Gao leaned closer and whispered something into his ear.

His voice was very soft, audible only to the two of them.

Titan's expression changed.

He gritted his teeth, and his martial soul slowly faded away. He shot Tuoba Xi an unwilling glare, stepped back, and dropped heavily into his chair.

Tuoba Xi gave a derisive snort and withdrew his martial soul as well.

Calm returned to the room.

Lou Gao raised his head and looked at Huo Yuhao.

Shrewd light glimmered in those small eyes.

"What are the terms?" he asked. "What do we get out of this?"

Titan grew anxious again.

"Lou Gao! What are you doing?!"

He shot to his feet, his face filled with disbelief. Lou Gao's words clearly meant he intended to agree!

"Titan!"

Lou Gao barked sharply at him without the slightest courtesy.

That shout left Titan stunned.

Lou Gao looked at him, his small eyes filled with complicated emotions.

"I know exactly what I'm doing." His voice lowered, carrying a trace of weariness. "This is the trend of the times. Anyone with eyes can see it."

He paused.

"If I refuse, then what? Everyone here will die. They'll all die, do you understand? Not everyone is a Soul Douluo like you!"

Titan opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no words came out.

"Don't forget," Lou Gao continued. "Most people in Metal Capital are ordinary people. Even the Soul Masters here don't have combat-type martial souls. You can endure Spirit Hall's wrath—"

His gaze settled on Titan's face.

"But they can't."

Titan fell silent.

"Just like back then." Lou Gao's voice dropped even lower. "Your master Tang Hao offended Spirit Hall. What kind of calamity did the Clear Sky Sect suffer afterward—have you forgotten?"

Titan's face turned deathly pale.

He opened his mouth, but no sound emerged.

He slowly sank back into his chair and lowered his head.

Lou Gao withdrew his gaze and looked at Huo Yuhao.

Huo Yuhao stood there, watching the scene with some surprise.

He had originally thought there would be a fight. He would fight until Titan submitted, until Lou Gao submitted, until the entire Blacksmith Association submitted.

Yet this short, stout old man was far more shrewd than he had imagined.

He was simply waiting.

Waiting for an offer.

Huo Yuhao fell into thought.

Benefits...

To be honest, he had not expected the man to agree so quickly. All the arguments he had prepared, all the tactics of coercion and enticement, were useless now.

He thought for a moment, then raised his head and looked at Lou Gao.

"Join Spirit Hall," he said, a faint smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Receive the protection of Spirit Hall's formidable strength. From this day onward, no one will ever look down on you or insult you again."

He paused.

"Isn't that a benefit?"

Lou Gao stared into his eyes.

Complex light flickered within those small eyes.

He looked for a long time.

Then he spoke.

"I have one condition."

"Say it."

"The Blacksmith Association must retain a measure of autonomy," Lou Gao said word by word. "Not everything can be managed by Spirit Hall's people. Some people simply don't understand a thing."

Huo Yuhao smiled.

He rubbed his chin and considered it.

"Fine," he said.

Lou Gao's eyes narrowed slightly.

"The Blacksmith Association as a whole won't change," Huo Yuhao continued. "The only change is that now, in Metal Capital, you will be equivalent to a Spirit Hall branch. Of course, on major matters, you must obey orders from Spirit City."

He paused.

"Your task will be to provide Spirit City with a certain quantity of rare metals, armor, and weapons every year, as well as pay a fixed share of your income as tribute."

Lou Gao froze for a moment.

"That's all?"

There was a trace of surprise in his voice.

He had already prepared himself for Spirit Hall to devour the Blacksmith Association whole. To be absorbed, reorganized, and stuffed with a pile of officials who knew nothing yet loved to meddle. He had seen far too many things like that.

Yet what Huo Yuhao was proposing was merely—paying tribute?

"That's all." Huo Yuhao looked at him, his smile sincere.

He raised a hand and pointed toward the sky outside the window. Sunlight streamed through the glass and fell over him, coating his outline in gold.

"Angel's Light of Mercy," he said, "will shine upon you."

Lou Gao fell silent.

He looked at the youth before him, at that young face carrying a trace of maturity, at the light glittering within those deep blue eyes.

Suddenly, he remembered many years ago.

Back then, he had still been young, learning his craft from his master. His master had told him what mattered most in blacksmithing. Skill, patience, perseverance.

But his master had never told him that the most important thing was—survival.

He had survived.

He had led the Blacksmith Association and survived on this continent, among the cracks between great powers.

Now, an opportunity lay before him.

Join Spirit Hall and become part of Spirit Hall. Lose some freedom, gain greater security.

He looked at Huo Yuhao, at that sincerely smiling face.

"Deal," he said.