Chapter 2: Reflecting the World
"The World!"
The little loli exclaimed in awe.
Mysterious and powerful!
That was Huo Yutong's first impression.
"Truly incredible," Huo Yutong praised without a trace of envy.
"Your Spirit Eyes are remarkable too—a Body-type Martial Soul."
Her starlit eyes dimmed momentarily, flickering with imperceptible insecurity and dejection before quickly brightening again.
Time to clean.
After fetching a basin of water, the little loli scrubbed corners and dust untouched by the wind, her tiny bottom sticking up in the air. Meanwhile, An Zhen reached into the void and pulled out his earlier lounge chair.
Huo Yuhao...
Huo Yutong...
Given her solitary presence here, it seemed unlikely Huo Yun'er had birthed twins. The Son of Destiny was gone, replaced by a Daughter of Destiny—a deviation from the original tale. Tch. The worldlines were likely already tangled, especially with his own interference as a variable.
But why was this child disguised as a boy?
No.
That soft voice might just be puberty.
Petite cuteness didn't equate to masculinity.
Time for a check.
Instead of returning to his dorm, An Zhen lay on the chair and closed his eyes.
Martial Soul, manifest.
"Hmm?"
In a golden sea of consciousness, a silkworm marked with ten gold纹纹纹 (patterns) lifted its head as if sensing something.
An approaching presence...
Or perhaps nothing at all.
Forget it—that human elder's aura is too terrifying. Better hide.
...
"Unorthodox, yet undeniably practical."
An Zhen rose, his lips curling into a pleased smile as he watched the petite figure diligently sweeping. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled the tiny body against his chest.
No struggle.
No gasp.
The small form slumped bonelessly into his embrace, like a puppet with severed strings.
World Modulation Mode.
Centered on An Zhen's physical body, his psyche confined this space to a pocket dimension—a simulated world mirroring reality. Those within it projected as NPCs, mimicking real actions until An Zhen touched or commanded them, stripping their autonomy. Here, he reigned as a god.
And his Martial Soul's stealth was peerless.
Once, leveraging his foster grandfather Jing Hongchen's connections, An Zhen had met Silvermoon Douluo Kong Deming. Yet even that elite sensed nothing. Now, his only concern was Mu En—the Light of the Sea God Pavilion.
No... if canon held true, Mu En was already here.
An Zhen pressed a finger to Huo Yutong's occiput. Three blue screens materialized:
[Huo Yutong]
[Heavenly Dream Ice Silkworm]
[Elai克斯斯 (Elai克斯斯)]
If anyone on the continent possessed supreme spiritual power, it was this one: the former Child of Light, the Calamity Necromancer Elai克斯克斯克斯... or his fractured remnant soul.
But even a fragment was divine consciousness—a god's essence.
"Seizing sun and moon, plucking stars from the sky—none in this world rival my might."
An Zhen's pale fingers closed around a wisp of gray light. "Elai克斯克斯克斯," he murmured, "do you remember that btch Foluo and her bstard Peiluo?"
If the original Huo Yuhao—blinded by hatred—could sway Elai克斯克斯克斯, surely invoking the names of the princess who betrayed him and the pope's son who slaughtered his clan would provoke a reaction now.
...Nothing?
Had this soul-shard truly forgotten?
An Zhen left to seek Mu En.
He was gone.
Already departed?
In that case... Heh heh heh. Little Yu Tong, no uncertainties remain between us now.
He rushed back to the dorm.
With a thought, a pristine bed materialized. An Zhen laid the small figure upon it gently.
Time for that inspection.
Truly, a descendant of the White Tiger.
"Why would such an adorable girl disguise herself as a boy?"
An Zhen didn't know her reasons. Another mental command purged the room of grime, condensing waste into a gray orb by the door.
Reality
An Zhen opened his eyes.
The little loli was wiping a table with a damp cloth.
"Let me handle it."
An Zhen pitied this small, ill-fated girl. With the Heavenly Dream Ice Silkworm and Elai克斯克斯克斯 bound to her, her threadbare clothes and malnourished frame mirrored Huo Yuhao's origins.
If not for that thing Tang San, she should've lived a charmed life—a Daughter of Destiny rising from adversity. Yet even the World's Will couldn't withstand a Godking's machinations.
Whether Son or Daughter of Destiny, Tang San would claim them. Treating Douluo as his backyard, he'd inevitably target An Zhen too if he ever reached godhood. Becoming Tang San's dog might be the best outcome.
Reborn into this life, An Zhen craved only freedom and amusement. He refused to die—he would ascend to godhood. With a Martial Soul this potent, a cheat-like existence... If ancient figures like the Angel and Sea Gods could ascend, why not him? He acknowledged his flawed resolve, but this "World" Martial Soul might itself be divine—perhaps beyond divinity.
Thus, allying with the Daughter of Destiny was logical.
The current Divine Realm wasn't yet Tang San's fiefdom—Life and Destruction still presided as Godkings. Tang San himself was bound by divine non-interference rules (though he'd later exploit his daughter to bypass them). At least this era wasn't as bleak as Douluo III, where two second-grade gods hunted you relentlessly.
The vast, starry black of An Zhen's eyes reflected that petite figure.
Huo Yutong... I came for you.
He needed her aid—not just against Tang San, but for a pivotal cultivation breakthrough only one blessed by destiny could facilitate.
"First soul skill: Reflect."
A translucent yellow ring shimmered near An Zhen's ankle. Amber light flared, and an eerie ripple washed over the dorm—excluding An Zhen and Huo Yutong.
The little one gaped as the room transformed into spotlessness.
First Soul Skill: Reflect
An Zhen could overlay reality with his pocket dimension's state, altering the physical world. He could also project entities, objects, or even his own cultivation from that dimension, exercising limited control.
Yet conjuring or erasing matter demanded significant energy—drawn from both his soul power and his Martial Soul's reserves. The Martial Soul itself functioned as a massive, unique "Milk Bottle."
Frankly, soul rings merely unlocked his world's inherent authorities; they offered no unique abilities beyond raw soul power. Summoning wind or chairs earlier required no rings—those were innate powers. Rings were just keys.
For daily life, it was convenient: instant outfit changes, accelerated cultivation. Combat? Against prepared peers, it held advantages. But facing higher-level foes risked backlash.
This skill wasn't meant for battle.
(End of Chapter)