Purple Demon Eye

The Dormitory was pitch-black, lit only by the faint blue glow of the soul Communicator in Tang Wulin's hand. His palm was slick with sweat. The burning sensation in his right arm, as though it no longer belonged to him, still throbbed faintly, constantly reminding him of the heart-stopping scene earlier.

After a long hesitation, he finally dialed that familiar number.

"Ring... ring..."

The long ringing sounded especially piercing in the silent night. Just as Tang Wulin thought no one would answer, a sharp burst of static came from the other end, followed by a female voice thick with panic and sleep. "Wulin? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Hearing his sister's familiar voice eased Tang Wulin's taut nerves a little, but he still lowered his voice and asked urgently, "Sis, I... when I was fighting just now, my right hand suddenly turned into a golden dragon claw. It was terrifyingly strong—I sent a Two-Ring Soul Grandmaster flying with one punch! What's going on? Do I... do I have some strange disease?"

The other end fell silent.

It was a suffocating silence, as though even the air had frozen. A long while passed before Tang Wutong spoke again, but this time, all traces of sleepiness had vanished from her voice, replaced by an unmistakable tremor of fear.

"Wulin... listen to me. Right now, immediately, turn the Communicator's volume down as low as it will go. Make sure no one around you can hear our conversation." Tang Wutong's tone was more serious than he had ever heard it, almost commanding.

Tang Wulin's heart tightened, and he instinctively obeyed. Holding the Communicator against his ear, he held his breath. "Sis, I've already shut the door and windows. Go ahead."

"Wulin, trust me. You absolutely cannot let anyone know about this power inside you! Do you hear me? No one! Not even Gu Yue, Xie Xie, or the academy's teachers!" Tang Wutong kept her voice very low, as though she were revealing an earth-shattering secret. "This isn't just about power. Your life is at stake!"

"My life?" Tang Wulin froze. "Sis, what are you talking about?"

"This isn't the time to explain." Tang Wutong took a deep breath, seemingly trying to steady her surging emotions. "Wulin, remember this: that power won't hurt you for now, but if you don't control it, it will turn on your body. This year... you're almost ten, aren't you?"

"Yes, in a few months," Tang Wulin answered honestly.

"Damn it, we're running out of time..." Tang Wutong cursed under her breath, then continued, "Wulin, listen. This power is part of the seals inside your body. You... actually have seals placed on you. If those seals aren't broken before you turn ten, you... you'll die."

"What?!" Tang Wulin felt a boom in his mind, as though a thunderbolt had exploded inside it.

"Don't ask why, and don't tell anyone!" Tang Wutong seemed to sense his terror and hurried on. "Only Father and I know about this. If anyone else finds out, they won't be able to help you. They'll only bring disaster down on you and get you killed. Do you understand?"

Tang Wulin's fingers whitened around the Communicator. He drew a deep breath, struggling to calm himself. "Sis, I understand. I won't tell. I won't tell anyone."

"Good." Tang Wutong's voice softened a little. "Wulin, trust me. I would never hurt you. You need three things right now. Listen carefully. The first is a Hundred-Year Ice Crystal Fruit. The second is a Hundred-Year Crimson Flame Fruit. The third... is ten drops of blood from a hundred-year-old dragon-type soul beast."

"Ice Crystal Fruit? Crimson Flame Fruit? Dragon blood?" Tang Wulin rapidly committed them to memory as he listened. "Sis, these things..."

"Don't ask so many questions. Get ready!" Tang Wutong interrupted him. "Come to Shrek Academy in the next few days. I've already prepared all of these things for you. Just come straight here afterward. I'll arrange for someone to meet you."

Warmth welled up in Tang Wulin's heart. Although his sister's words sent chill after chill through him, he knew she was protecting him.

"Yes, I understand, Sis." Tang Wulin nodded firmly, as though Tang Wutong were standing right in front of him. "I'll leave tomorrow."

"All right. Be careful on the way." Tang Wutong's voice held a trace of exhaustion and tender concern. "Wulin, remember, whatever happens, protect yourself. I... I'll always be with you."

"I will!"

After ending the call, Tang Wulin stared at the now-dark soul Communicator in his hand, unable to settle his heart for a long time. Moonlight spilled through the gap in the curtains, casting mottled shadows across the floor like an enormous net enveloping him.

Seals? Ten years old? Death?

Those unfamiliar words weighed on him like a mountain, leaving him unable to breathe. But he knew he had no way back now.

He carefully put away the Communicator and lay back down on his bed. As he gazed at the bright moon outside, his eyes gradually hardened with resolve.

The morning mist had yet to clear, but murderous tension already filled the grounds outside Eastsea Academy. Guang Biao stood beside a black soul-powered armored vehicle, with seven or eight thugs carrying Soul Guidance Ray Guns behind him. His face was dark enough to drip water. Blood faintly seeped through the bandages around his left arm—the sword wound Wu Changkong had left the previous night.

"Elder Brother, this is the place!" One of the lackeys pointed at the academy's tightly closed iron gates. "The young master was injured right here!"

Guang Biao sneered, pulled a soul-powered bomb crackling with deep-blue arcs from inside his clothes, and hurled it against a gatepost. With a thunderous explosion, the heavy alloy gates warped and buckled, sending birds flying throughout the academy.

"You useless trash at Eastsea Academy, get the hell out here!" he roared, his voice like thunder. "Hand over the bastard who attacked him last night, or I'll tear your damn school apart!"

Inside the teaching building, students screamed and scattered. Tang Wulin stood at the end of the corridor, looking through the window at the menacing soul-powered armored vehicle outside, and his heart clenched. He knew Guang Biao had come for him.

"Wulin, what do we do?" Xie Xie rushed up from the stairwell, his face pale. "They brought heavy Soul Tools! The security team can't stop them!"

Tang Wulin clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened. Remembering Wu Changkong's aloof figure as he left the previous night, he suddenly turned to Gu Yue beside him. "Gu Yue, go find Teacher Wu."

Gu Yue was leaning against the railing, her long black hair fluttering in the morning breeze. Her rare purple eyes were cold as ice. At Tang Wulin's words, she gave only a quiet "Mm," then turned and ran toward Wu Changkong's office.

"Are you crazy?" Xie Xie stamped his feet in agitation. "Teacher Wu can barely be bothered to teach his classes! Why would he get involved in something like this?"

"He will." Tang Wulin stared at the arrogant mob below, his voice low but firm. "Because he's Wu Changkong."

Before his words had faded, a piercing scream came from downstairs. One of Guang Biao's men had actually fired his gun. The ray grazed the dean's ear and left a scorched hole in the wall.

"If you don't hand him over, the next shot will blow your heads apart!" Guang Biao raised his Soul Tool Gun with a vicious grin, aiming straight at the teaching building.

Just then, a biting wind swept in from the inner courtyard. It was so bone-chilling that the midsummer morning suddenly felt like winter.

"Who gave you the nerve to run wild at my Eastsea Academy?"

The cold voice sounded like shattered ice striking the ground, carrying unquestionable authority. Everyone turned toward it and saw a white figure walking through the air. With every step he took, a thin layer of frost formed on the ground.

Wu Changkong wore robes whiter than snow, his loose silver hair streaming in the wind. He carried an ancient-looking longsword, its scabbard covered in fine ice crystals. His usually indifferent eyes had turned a deep violet—his Purple Demon Eye was already active.

"T-Teacher Wu!" The students burst into delighted cheers.

Guang Biao was also shaken by this sudden, overwhelming presence and instinctively took half a step back. Then humiliation turned to anger. "Who the hell are you? You dare stick your nose into my business?"

Wu Changkong did not answer. He merely raised his sword slowly, pointing its tip directly at Guang Biao.

"Get out of my sight within three breaths." His voice was frighteningly calm. "Otherwise, I take no responsibility for severed hands or feet."

Trembling with rage, Guang Biao raised his Soul Tool Gun to fire. "Go to hell!"

Clang!

With a crisp ring, before even Wu Changkong could see clearly how the sword had struck, the Soul Tool Gun's barrel had already been severed. The cut was smooth as a mirror and still trailed white smoke.

"What..." Guang Biao's eyes widened in terror.

"One," Wu Changkong counted, expressionless.

"Retreat! Get out of here!" Guang Biao finally realized he had run into someone he could not handle and scrambled into the armored vehicle. His thugs abandoned their gear in their panic and vanished without a trace in the blink of an eye.

With the danger over, the students cheered and jumped for joy. Tang Wulin watched Wu Changkong's back as he sheathed his sword and suddenly noticed his left hand pressed against his waist. A faint trace of blood seeped between his fingers—beneath that layer of frost, he had been hiding an injured body.

Gu Yue had returned to his side at some point. A complicated emotion flickered through her purple eyes. "He's injured."

Tang Wulin clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. He knew something was changing. Whether it was the mysterious Golden Dragon Claw or this seemingly indifferent teacher before him, they were like pieces of a puzzle, gradually forming a world he had never known.

In the faint light of dawn, the atmosphere around Eastsea Academy's blasted, twisted iron gates was heavier than the dead of night.

Guang Biao stood beside the soul-powered armored vehicle, aiming a Soul Cannon crackling with deep-blue arcs at the teaching building. A vicious grin still hung on his face, only to freeze instantly beneath a sudden chill.

"Three."

Wu Changkong's voice was soft, yet it boomed in Guang Biao's ears like a death knell.

The instant the word fell, Wu Changkong's deep-blue eyes abruptly turned an eerie, profound purple! That purple seemed to contain some ancient, terrifying power. Merely being swept by his gaze made Guang Biao feel as though his soul had frozen solid, and even breathing became unbearably difficult.

"P-Purple Demon Eye?!" one of the lackeys behind Guang Biao cried out, his voice filled with fear.

But it was already too late.

Wu Changkong gave them no more time to react. He did not even draw the Heavenly Frost Sword from its scabbard, merely lifting it casually with a slight flick of his wrist.

Hummm—

A visible crescent of sword energy erupted in an instant. This was no ordinary sword energy, but an icy-blue gleam of cold condensed to its utmost limit! Wherever it passed, moisture in the air instantly froze into frost, while a thick sheet of ice spread across the ground at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"Run!"

Guang Biao finally shook off the intimidation of those purple eyes, scared nearly out of his soul. He tried to raise his Soul Cannon and fight back, only to discover that his movements were as slow as a snail before Wu Changkong.

Boom!

The sword energy slammed into the soul-powered armored vehicle in front of Guang Biao. Its heavy armor, strong enough to withstand a Soul Elder's full-power strike, was as fragile as paper before that slash. A clean, smooth opening instantly split through it. Then the entire armored vehicle exploded with a deafening blast, flames and frost intertwining in a horrifying spectacle.

Although Guang Biao narrowly escaped the direct impact, the lingering sword energy struck his left shoulder. A crisp crack of bone rang out, and he flew backward like a kite with its string cut, slamming heavily into the ground. Blood sprayed from his mouth, and his left arm hung limply, clearly crippled.

"Aah! My arm! My arm!"

Guang Biao's agonized screams echoed across the open ground. He stared in terror at his mangled left shoulder, then looked up at the white-robed young man standing with his sword. All his earlier arrogance and swagger had vanished from his eyes, leaving only endless fear.

"Get lost."

Wu Changkong lowered his sword and stood still, his purple eyes sweeping coldly over the men howling on the ground. His voice remained calm, yet carried unquestionable authority.

This time, Guang Biao and his men did not dare linger for even a moment. Scrambling and stumbling, they hauled Guang Biao up and fled into the distance in utter disgrace, not even sparing a thought for their wrecked armored vehicle. In the blink of an eye, they disappeared without a trace.

Quiet returned to the academy gates. Only the burning wreckage and the devastation strewn across the ground remained, proving that everything that had just happened was no illusion.

Wu Changkong slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the eerie purple had faded, returning to their usual deep blue. Seemingly exhausted, he braced himself against his sword hilt, his body swaying slightly.

"Teacher Wu!" Tang Wulin, Gu Yue, and the others hurried out of the teaching building.

Wu Changkong waved a hand to stop them from approaching. His gaze settled on Tang Wulin, his tone as cool as ever, yet carrying a barely perceptible trace of concern. "The next time you run into trouble you can't handle, come straight to me."

With that, he turned and left. His white robes fluttered, and his back remained straight, yet there was an inexplicable loneliness about him.

Tang Wulin watched Wu Changkong's retreating figure, then looked at the burning soul-powered armored vehicle in the distance, his heart shaken. He knew what he had witnessed today was merely the tip of the iceberg of this mysterious teacher's strength. Those purple eyes and that terrifying sword energy were seared deep into his mind.

"Let's go." Gu Yue's voice sounded beside his ear, a trace of thoughtfulness in her purple eyes as well. "This isn't over yet."