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On the top floor of Donghai City's Spirit Pagoda, in a spacious, sunlit office, the Tower Master was deeply engrossed in reviewing documents.
Golden light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting dappled patterns across the deep red handwoven wool carpet.
His pen scratched softly against the paper. When deep in thought, he'd absentmindedly tap the desk with its tip.
A soft knock interrupted his focus.
"Come in," he said without looking up—his voice low, commanding.
The door opened quietly. A middle-aged steward in deep blue uniform stepped inside and bowed slightly.
"Forgive the intrusion, Tower Master—but there's a matter requiring your judgment."
Only then did the Tower Master lift his head.
He appeared to be in his fifties—stern-faced, bearing the calm authority of someone long accustomed to power. Though silver streaked his temples, his eyes remained sharp as an eagle's.
"What is it?"
"A Core Disciple has taken an interest in… the artificial Black Dragon spirit soul," the steward reported respectfully, bowing lower.
The Tower Master's pen paused mid-air. "Whose Core Disciple?"
"Sir… it's Mr. Liu Yang's," the steward answered, beads of sweat already forming on his brow.
A knowing smile touched the Tower Master's lips. "Ah… that old man's disciple."
He set down his pen and leaned back in his chair, thoughtful for a moment.
"Very well. Since it's his disciple who wants it—give it to him."
"Yes, Tower Master," the steward bowed deeply, about to withdraw.
"Wait," the Tower Master called suddenly, eyes glinting with sharp intent.
"Also grant that old man's disciple a slot on the Spirit Ascension Platform. Tell him… it's a small token of my regard."
The steward's eyes widened in surprise—but he quickly bowed again. "Understood, sir. I'll arrange it at once."
As the steward departed, the Tower Master rose and walked to the window, hands clasped behind his back.
Below, the bustling city of Donghai sprawled in all its glory—but his gaze seemed to pierce beyond it, toward something far more distant.
He murmured softly to himself:
"That… is my most perfect creation.
Forged from the blood of Di Tian, the Golden-Eyed Black Dragon King—the Beast God, the First of the Ten Great Demon Beasts—infused with an ancient dragon soul, enhanced with the latest soul-engineering technology…the ultimate weapon—Armed Heavenly Dragon!"
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Meanwhile, back on the first floor of the Spirit Pagoda
The same female attendant hurried over, having received the news.
Her professional smile now carried genuine reverence.
"Honored sir—the Tower Master has approved your request."
She paused, then added: "Moreover… he has granted you a slot on the Spirit Ascension Platform as a personal gift."
From her storage device, she produced a crystal-clear orb.
Its surface shimmered with deep black light. Inside, a miniature black dragon swam slowly.
Every scale gleamed with metallic luster, and its fiery golden eyes burned with untamed ferocity.
The moment Fang Yang reached for the orb—the instant his fingertips brushed its surface—
ROOOAARRR!
A soul-shaking dragon's roar erupted from within.
The very air in the room shuddered.
The Black Dragon spirit soul inside went berserk—pounding against the orb's walls, black energy surging like a storm, straining to break free.
"Sir, be careful!" the attendant gasped, stumbling backward.
But Fang Yang stood utterly still.
Deep within him, the Golden Dragon King's bloodline surged of its own accord.
An invisible pressure radiated from his body—the supreme aura of the Dragon King himself.
Beside him, Gu Yue's pupils contracted violently.
That scent—so deeply familiar, resonating with her very soul—sent violent ripples through her calm eyes.
"This is truly… the Golden Dragon King?! But how is that possible?!" Her mind reeled.
As the Silver Dragon King, one of Dragon God's divine avatars, she knew the Golden Dragon King had perished in the Divine Realm.
She'd approached Fang Yang not only because of Na'er—but because of the bloodline resonance she'd felt upon their first meeting—a curiosity she couldn't ignore.
But now—she felt the complete, undeniable presence of the Golden Dragon King—a power that should have been utterly erased from existence.
Unless…
A shocking realization dawned within her:
"The Golden Dragon King never died… Fang Yang is the Golden Dragon King himself?"
And that terrifying flame he wielded—
surely the result of some ancient fortune.
He must have reincarnated on the Douluo Continent—rebuilding himself in human form…
Just then—an astonishing scene unfolded.
The rampaging Black Dragon spirit soul suddenly stilled.
It coiled slowly—and lowered its proud head, gazing directly into Fang Yang's eyes.
An act of submission.
Fang Yang's lips curved into a faint smile.
He calmly stored the now-peaceful orb into his storage ring.
"Gu Yue—let's go," he said, as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
"Alright," Gu Yue replied softly—but her eyes lingered on him, filled with unspoken wonder.
Seeing her dazed expression, Fang Yang naturally reached for her hand—taking her slender fingers in his own—and led her out of the Spirit Pagoda.
Her palm was soft, delicate, cool to the touch—incredibly pleasant to hold.
Only when they'd stepped outside did Gu Yue snap back to reality.
Feeling the warmth of his hand, she thought silently:
"That scheming Fang Yang… took advantage while I was distracted!"
Yet she didn't pull away—only the tips of her ears tinged faintly pink.
Fang Yang, of course, knew she'd noticed his little move—but he played innocent, still holding her hand as they strolled leisurely onward.
And Gu Yue, for her part, let him—walking silently beside him all the way.
They didn't speak a word until the silhouette of Donghai Academy appeared in the distance.
"Hey," Gu Yue finally said, voice laced with playful reproach, "you rascal—aren't you going to let go?"
Fang Yang turned to her, a teasing smile on his lips. "I don't want to lose you."
Gu Yue rolled her eyes at his shameless charm, but couldn't suppress a light huff.
"It's not like I won't let you hold my hand again."
Fang Yang's eyes lit up. "Gu Yue—you just said it! No taking it back!"
"You…" Gu Yue sighed, flustered. How does he always twist my words so easily?
Fang Yang grinned smugly. "Hehe—thick skin gets you a wife, you know."
Only then did he reluctantly release her hand, whispering softly, "Remember to think of me tonight. See you tomorrow."
Gu Yue glanced at him, said nothing more, and turned toward the girls' dormitory.
But as she walked away—the corners of her lips lifted into the faintest, secret smile.
"Na'er… for the sake of our spirit beast kin… Fang Yang is mine now. I can't possibly let you have him."
Fang Yang watched her leave, then turned toward Dorm 205.
Suddenly—a hand clapped his shoulder.
"Fang Yang, you…"
The unexpected voice made Fang Yang jump. He turned to find Tang Wulin standing right behind him.
"Me? What about me?" Fang Yang asked, heart still racing.
Tang Wulin's eyes sparkled with mischief. He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper:
"Did you… succeed?"
Fang Yang instantly understood. "Of course! Absolutely. But Wulin—keep it secret. Don't let Xie Xie's big mouth find out."
"Deal!" Tang Wulin agreed instantly—then smirked slyly. "But… you owe me a meal."
"Done!" Fang Yang laughed, giving Tang Wulin a friendly punch on the shoulder.
Arm in arm, the two walked back toward Room 205.
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