Arresting the Silver Dragon King

Deep within the core region of the Star Dou Great Forest.

Gu Yue did not cultivate today.

She stood beneath the crooked ancient tree outside the Stone Palace, pinching a leaf between her fingers. Its edges had already yellowed slightly, and she had turned it over and over at her fingertips who knew how many times. Her purple eyes rested on a tiger claw mark in the bark—very fine, very small, only reaching her knee in height. It had been left by that cub.

Di Tian stood far away at the edge of the forest, watching for a long time.

He had never seen his master like this. The Silver Dragon King never did meaningless things, nor did she linger over one matter for so long. Yet Gu Yue was clearly spending too much of her attention on a question that still had no answer.

Di Tian's throat moved, but in the end, he did not step forward. Instinct told him that speaking at a time like this would be a strategic-level mistake.

Of course, Gu Yue sensed Di Tian nearby, but she ignored him. Her fingertips brushed over that scratch again. It felt rough, and there was still a tiny trace of an almost imperceptible aura lingering there—not soul power, but an older beast clan imprint. Before the Silver Dragon King's divine consciousness, it flashed briefly before vanishing again, like a feather, weightless yet impossible to brush away.

The final fragment of divine thought left behind by that White Tiger cub that night was still pressing down within her sea of consciousness. She had not told Di Tian what she had received—that crooked line of ancient writing, that flippant form of address irritating enough to make one's teeth itch.

"Cousin—"

Gu Yue crushed the leaf.

The fragments slipped through her fingers, scattered by a night breeze before they could touch the ground.

She raised her eyes toward the depths of the dense forest. A sharpness she herself had not noticed surfaced in those purple eyes, which were usually as still as ancient wells.

"Di Tian."

"Your subordinate is here."

"Stop investigating."

Di Tian froze. Stop investigating? He had spent months exhausting himself over clues about Lu Menge, and the scouts he had sent out could fill the coastline of East Sea City. Now his master was saying there was no need to investigate—

"She has already found me."

Gu Yue's voice was calm, as if she were merely commenting on the weather.

Di Tian said nothing. Beneath his hood, his golden eyes narrowed slightly. It had been a long time since he had seen such an expression on his master's face—not anger, not wariness, but a more complex curiosity tinged with a desire to contend.

Gu Yue turned and headed toward the Stone Palace.

"Withdraw the shifts. Withdraw the outer sentries too." She paused, and a faint chill entered her voice. "When she comes, do not block her path."

Di Tian lowered his head. "Understood."

Inwardly, he put a huge cross over the action plan of "send scouts to find Lu Menge." It seemed that what his master wanted now was not to search—but to wait.

The night deepened.

Nights in the Star Dou Great Forest were so quiet that even the insects did not dare chirp loudly. Moonlight was filtered through the canopy into scattered silver, spilling around the Stone Palace. For once, Gu Yue did not enter the palace to meditate. Instead, she leaned against the ancient tree beside the stone platform, arms folded, breathing steadily, eyes closed.

She was not asleep. She was merely waiting.

After several hours, the wind in the forest suddenly changed direction.

Gu Yue opened her eyes.

There were no footsteps. No sound of cutting wind. Even the fluctuations of spatial attributes had been compressed to the limit; to anyone below the level of a human Titled Douluo, it would simply seem as though "nothing had happened." But Gu Yue felt it—the air five steps before her had thickened.

That thickness was not caused by soul power fluctuations. It was because some indescribable existence was drawing near. The air itself had developed an instinctive reverence, not even daring to flow too quickly.

Gu Yue lowered her folded arms.

In the small patch of open ground before her where the moonlight was thickest, nine faint phantoms appeared without a sound.

Nine tail tips.

They were not tails, but phantoms—translucent, glowing white tail tips that seemed there and not there.

They extended from the void like feelers reaching into this world from another dimension. Each was only palm-length, slender and slightly curved, with amber light at the end. They traced nine different arcs through the air without tangling together, yet their paths vaguely outlined a source—within a tear in space, an existence was stepping forward from an unknown distance of countless miles away.

One foot stepped into the moonlight of the clearing.

A black stiletto heel.

Gu Yue's purple eyes suddenly contracted.

The moonlight traveled upward. Asymmetrical white stockings wrapped around long, toned calves. Higher still, a miniskirt, the hem of a white lab coat lifting slightly in the night breeze. A pair of arms extended from within the lab coat, fingertips painted with pale pearlescent nail polish, as though she had just left some evening banquet and happened to take a detour through the forest.

Then came her face.

Lu Menge stepped out.

The nine phantom tails gently drew back behind her, silently retracting into the void.

She simply stood there, both hands tucked into her lab coat pockets, foxlike eyes half-lidded as fragments of moonlight danced in her amber pupils. The black beauty mark beneath her left eye lent an unfathomable depth to the seductive charm of her face.

Gu Yue saw her face clearly. She was much as Di Tian's gathered intelligence had described—tall, with an hourglass figure, asymmetrical white stockings, and heels high enough to baffle any soul master serious about combat. But none of that was the point.

The point was her aura.

Gu Yue could not sense her.

It was not deliberate concealment—she truly could not sense her.

An existence so conspicuous, so flamboyant, standing merely three steps away, was a complete blank in her divine consciousness. There was no flow of soul power, no trace of bloodline, no fluctuation that could be identified as a "living being." If she had not seen her standing there with her own eyes, Gu Yue would have concluded that there was nothing before her.

Lu Menge made that sensation seem casual, as though she had merely turned off her phone's vibration without a second thought.

"Good evening—"

Lu Menge spoke first, her tone lazy and casual, lips curved in a smile. Her entire posture made it seem as though she were greeting a roommate in her own living room.

Gu Yue straightened.

It was an instinctive action. Her body made its judgment before her will did, telling her that she needed to treat the person before her with far more gravity than Di Tian or even a human Titled Douluo.

"Don't be nervous." Lu Menge blinked and raised one hand with a smile. "Teacher only came to take a look—cousin."

The instant those two words landed, the leaves of the ancient trees around them all trembled.

The moonlight vanished completely from Gu Yue's purple eyes.

"Who is your cousin?"

The wind suddenly strengthened. Silver hair whipped in the night breeze, and the temperature around the entire Stone Palace plummeted at an unnatural rate. The Silver Dragon King's aura spilled from within her like an ice blade that had slumbered for ages, slowly drawing from its sheath in the darkness.

Lu Menge was unaffected.

It was not resistance, nor was it dispelling—it was simply that she was not affected at all. The dragon clan pressure that could make Titled Douluo tremble rolled over her like it was crushing an illusion that did not exist.

Gu Yue took a step forward.

That step was firm. When the sole of her boot touched the earth, the ground let out a muffled groan. Elemental tides gathered around her, ice elements forming solid frost patterns that spread across the ground toward Lu Menge's feet.

Lu Menge did not move. She merely lowered her head slightly, watching the frost patterns crawl to her feet. Then she raised her head. The curve of her lips did not change.

The next second—tiger roar.

It did not come from a throat. It exploded directly from the depths of this world's laws.

A tiger roar so deep it seemed to pierce the entire Stone Palace region. It was not an ear-splitting blast, but a more profound impact—as though nine hearts were beating in unison at the other end of the void, their combined resonance making the air itself tremble. The frost patterns formed from Gu Yue's ice elements shattered all at once beneath that roar, fragments rolling backward like countless scraps of torn white paper.

Gu Yue retreated half a step—then forced herself to stop.

Nine glowing white tail tips extended once more from behind Lu Menge. This time, they were no longer vague phantoms, but solid—nine tiger tails fanned out from her back, each tipped with a floating ancient rune. There was no halo of divine rank, no trace of any heavenly consecration, yet the entire forest fell completely silent in that instant. Even the wind knelt.

Gu Yue stared at those nine tiger tails.

At last, the slightest change appeared in her breathing—not fear, but confirmation.

It truly was Nine Infants. It truly was the White Tiger. It truly existed—older than even the Dragon God.

"Tsk." Lu Menge retracted her nine tails and shrugged, wearing the helpless expression of someone who had made too big a fuss again. "I told you not to be nervous. Teacher didn't come here to fight."

"...Then what did you come for?"

Lu Menge took a step forward. It was fast—so fast that by the time Gu Yue's divine consciousness caught her movement, that hand with pearlescent nail polish had already risen beneath her chin. There was no killing intent, no hostility, only a pure difference in speed—an immediate demonstration of the gap between them. In Gu Yue's pupils, warmth lingered at those fingertips as they stopped an inch beneath her chin—then withdrew.

"I came to pick you up."

Lu Menge's voice was as lighthearted as though they were discussing tomorrow's picnic plans.

"This awful place doesn't even have food delivery, and Di Tian is an old fossil who never takes a day off. You're a girl—though not entirely a girl—but anyway, you can't keep staying in a place like this." Tilting her head, she watched Gu Yue's tense face with amber fox eyes. "It's bad for your health."

Gu Yue did not answer. In her sea of consciousness, she rapidly ran through every possible judgment: the existence calling herself Lu Menge possessed a power system unlike any soul beast or god Gu Yue had ever seen. She held no divine rank and relied on no law, yet with every gesture—heaven and earth themselves yielded before her.

"You are strong," Gu Yue said.

Lu Menge neither denied it nor feigned modesty. She merely tucked her hands back into her lab coat pockets and tilted her head at Gu Yue.

Gu Yue swallowed those words. Her pride would not allow her to praise Lu Menge twice, but her mind did not stop working. Di Tian's words rang in her ears: This person's significance to the soul beast lineage may not be inferior to that of my master herself.

"Come to the human world with me."

Gu Yue's brows finally moved. It was not anger, but confusion.

"You can enroll at Eastsea Academy—not a soul master academy. The academic workload isn't heavy, the cafeteria is good, and it's close to the sea."

Lu Menge's tone became casual, but her eyes changed slightly.

"Haven't you always wanted to understand humans? You've always watched from the shadows and never stepped in—you have studied humans for tens of thousands of years, but all you studied were specimens." Her voice suddenly dropped. "Specimens have no warmth."

Gu Yue fell silent.

"I've already found the Golden Dragon King. His bloodline has awakened smoothly within a human. Next, only you are missing."

The greatest turmoil of the night surged through Gu Yue's purple eyes.

This topic struck too close to one of the greatest motivations behind her awakening—the continuation of the Dragon God, the future of humans and soul beasts. The woman before her appeared carefree and unconcerned, opening her mouth only to mention food delivery and cafeterias, yet every word landed upon the weightiest of subjects.

"Why are you helping me?" Gu Yue asked.

Lu Menge looked away from her face and toward the incomplete sky above the dense forest, fragmented by branches. After several seconds of silence, she finally spoke.

"I'm not helping you."

The elemental tides around the Stone Palace had already calmed. The ancient trees had returned to silence, and moonlight once again fell through gaps in the canopy, landing on the patch of mud between them that had been trampled by who knew how many footprints.

Gu Yue stood there, watching Lu Menge walk up the stone steps with that same careless rhythm. Her stilettos tapped steadily against the stone slabs, neither hurried nor slow, like someone who would never be chased. "Tomorrow morning—report at the school entrance."

Her white lab coat flashed at the top of the steps, and the phantoms of nine tiger tails swayed gently in the moonlight. Then she vanished.

Gu Yue stood alone before the Stone Palace. Moonlight turned her silver hair frost-white, while the lingering echoes of that tiger roar remained in her purple eyes. For the first time since awakening, she consciously set aside her pride and spread her senses completely to search for an existence's trail—only to discover that even the way Lu Menge had departed could not be tracked.

She lowered her head and slowly clenched her hand. Her ice elements remained. Her dragon bloodline remained. But after witnessing that woman's nine tails, none of it felt enough anymore.

For the first time, the Silver Dragon King had a thought. One that made even her feel uneasy—she still had much to learn.

At the edge of the dense forest, Di Tian emerged from the shadows and dropped to one knee.

"My master—"

"Guard this place." Gu Yue interrupted him. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

Di Tian did not ask where she was going. He simply lowered his head. "Yes."

After a pause, he added, "My master—that one..."

"Lu Menge."

When Gu Yue spoke those three words, there was something in her purple eyes that Di Tian had never seen before. It was not coldness, nor anger—it was a trace of suppressed amusement.

"She called me cousin."

Di Tian did not dare respond.

Gu Yue entered the Stone Palace. Its great doors slowly closed, shutting the moonlight outside. In the darkness, she leaned against the cold stone wall and slowly released a breath. That woman's image still lingered in her mind—nine tails, the White Tiger Sacred Seal, an existence without divine rank that made heaven and earth bow their heads.

The Golden Dragon King had already been found. That was good news.

But who exactly was that woman named Lu Menge? That question would keep her awake for a long, long time.

Di Tian knelt alone before the stone steps, silent for a long time. His throat moved, but in the end, he did not say it aloud to anyone.

The Nine-Headed White Tiger. A being of slaughter and conquest from legend—she had smiled several times just now.

He had lived for eight hundred thousand years, yet he had never seen slaughter and conquest like that.

Far off in the void, Lu Menge walked with light steps, her heels tapping out lazy echoes in an unknown dimension. The Little White Tiger rolled out of the void and landed on her shoulder, letting out an ao-wu in greeting.

"I saw her, I saw her—" She rubbed the cub's head. "The Silver Dragon King still loves acting cool as much as ever."

The cub let out an ao-wu.

"She's a little harder to handle than the Golden Dragon King kid—at least that one is reasonable."

The cub cried out twice.

"Mm-hm, the process was a little fierce—well, it was a tiger roar. I had to make a gesture, didn't I?"

She stepped out of the spatial rift in her heels and landed on the athletic field of Eastsea Academy. It was late at night, the campus deserted, streetlamps dim, and the sound of distant waves faintly audible. Lu Menge scooped the Little White Tiger off her shoulder and held it in her arms.

"The Golden Dragon King needs to grow. The Golden Dragon King's grass needs watering."

She rubbed her chin against the top of the cub's head.

"As for the Silver Dragon King—she needs to be fed more."

The sound of the waves drifted from afar, like the heartbeat of this age itself—steady, powerful, unhurried. She smiled, pushed open the office door, tucked her thermos beneath her arm, and freed a hand to flip through the calendar on the desk. Beside tomorrow's date, a small tiger paw print had already been drawn.