Xuan Zi grabbed the wine gourd at his waist and took a deep swig. The burning liquid slid down his throat, as if only that could tamp down the turmoil in his heart.

His seemingly clouded eyes swept slowly over faces familiar and strange. When his gaze passed Tang San, Dai Mubai, Ma Hongjun—youths who, in the history he knew, had left bold strokes—something like inexpressible emotion and age-worn sighs flashed deep within.

He lowered the gourd; his voice was loud, yet could not hide the fatigue that came from crossing time and space:

“I am Xuan Zi, title Taotie. I am not of this world. I come from ten thousand years ahead—from another Douluo Continent whose broad history is similar to yours, yet whose details long ago diverged.”

He paused, as if weighing how to explain a notion beyond imagination to ancients.

“In our era, Shrek Academy has stood for ten millennia, recognized as the continent’s number one academy. The Clear Sky Hammer of the Clear Sky Sect still awes the lands. The light of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda has not dimmed. The roar of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon still shakes the skies.”

He pointed to Ma Xiaotao, Han Ruoruo, and the others beside him.

“They are elites of Shrek Academy of our age.”

“Ten thousand years later?!”

“Another world?!”

“Shrek Academy… became number one on the continent?”

Even veterans of many storms were shaken to their core, unable to suppress their exclamations.

It upended their very frame of the world.

Yu Xiaogang sprang to his feet, body trembling with the clash of shock and thought; his voice rasped with disbelief:

“Parallel worlds… I—I’ve theorized about this in my research… How—how can this be…”

He tried to fit the fact into the framework of his life’s study, only to find his proud system of knowledge pallid and powerless, unequal to a living example.

Tang San’s brows knit tight; his Purple Demon Eye ran unconsciously as he scrutinized every detail on Xuan Zi and his companions.

Of all, he accepted the claim of visitors from another world the fastest—after all, was his own soul not from another world? But coming from a future parallel world—this carried meanings far more complex.

Xuan Zi ignored the shock and continued in a deep voice:

“We did not come by choice. A great accident swept us into a temporal rift. We intervened here only because, in the records we know, the Spirit Hall’s soul hunt led to the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon’s destruction and left the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect gravely wounded—countless lives cut short. Since we have the power, we could not watch the same tragedy repeat.”

His gaze turned to the pale Yu Yuanzhen and the grave Ning Fengzhi.

“Saving the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragons, helping the Seven Treasure Glazed Tiles repel the ambush—that was our intent.”

Yu Yuanzhen, forcing himself upright despite his injuries, cupped his fist and spoke, voice weak yet sincere:

“Senior Xuan Zi and honored friends—your righteous aid saved my clan from annihilation. Yu Yuanzhen and the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon family will never forget.”

Ning Fengzhi inclined his head with elegant gravity. “This debt, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect will remember.”

Just then Ma Hongjun could hold back no longer. He leapt up, finger trembling as he pointed at Ma Xiaotao standing quietly aside. His round face was full of surprise, excitement, and an ineffable sense of kinship:

“W-wait! You… your name is Ma Xiaotao? Your martial soul is… a phoenix? And… this feeling—it’s so much like my Evil Fire Phoenix, but also different—purer, stronger, without that restless turmoil. Senior Xuan Zi said you’re Shrek students from ten thousand years later. Are you… are you really…”

He gaped, a wild guess pounding in his chest—absurd, yet beating with a blood-deep resonance.

Ma Xiaotao rose, poised and elegant.

Tall and stunning, she, too, felt a strange emotion at meeting the earliest recorded ancestor in her family line.

She smiled faintly. Without even releasing her martial soul, the crimson phoenix aura naturally coursing around her grew clearer—pure and noble, like one bathed in sacred flame. Ma Hongjun’s Evil Fire Phoenix answered in strong resonance; unable to help himself, red flames rose from him as well. Two phoenix forces of one origin but different quality echoed in the hall.

Like Ma Xiaotao, his evil fire had long since been cleansed by immortal herbs. But due to the gulf in cultivation—and because his martial soul was not the extremity of fire—he was a step below her.

“That’s right.”

Ma Xiaotao’s voice was clear, tinged with feeling.

“According to our family records, the source of my bloodline is the first Evil Fire Phoenix soul master—ancestor Ma Hongjun. As for my martial soul, it underwent an evolution. The curse of evil fire has fallen away; it became the Truefire Phoenix.”

“You… you’re really my… descendant?!”

Ma Hongjun pointed at his own nose, then at the peerless, clearly far-stronger woman before him, then reflexively touched his chubby face—stunned silly. The flood of information made his brain nearly short out.

Oscar, amused, pinched his arm hard. Pain made Ma Hongjun yelp, jolting him back. He scratched his head, looked at Ma Xiaotao, and broke into a goofy grin—pride, shyness, and disbelief all mixed together.

Xiao Wu and Ning Rongrong couldn’t help leaning together, eyeing Ma Xiaotao curiously while whispering in wonder.

Dai Mubai pulled his gaze from the dramatic scene and returned to Xuan Zi. As a Star Luo prince, he cared more about the looming crisis. He asked in a low voice:

“Senior Xuan Zi, you’re from the future and must know the Spirit Hall—no, the Spirit Empire—far better than we do. What are their moves to come? Facing two divine beings, how can we respond? Is there a way to break the game?”

Xuan Zi’s face grew heavier. He shook his head slowly, voice somber:

“That is the most crucial—and troublesome—part. The history we know has already diverged drastically from what is happening here; one could even say it’s unrecognizable.”

His gaze swept the hall and finally settled on Tang San’s tightly knit brows. With a trace of reluctance, he nonetheless spoke:

“According to the trajectory we know, there was no large-scale outbreak of filth points in this era. Qian Renxue and Bibi Dong should not both have ascended to godhood at this time. And Clear Sky Douluo Tang Hao… should not have fallen now.”

“Father!”

Tang San went ashen. He gripped the armrest until his knuckles whitened, eyes filling in an instant with boundless grief and seething fury.

Beside him, Xiao Wu felt his trembling and clasped his hand tightly, giving silent support.

Not only Tang San—Tang Xiao, Sect Master of the Clear Sky Sect, also clenched the armrest; wood cracked under his grip.

Though Tang Hao had caused the death of the previous Clear Sky Sect Master—their father—Tang Xiao had never blamed Tang Hao. In his eyes, Tang Hao was not wrong; the fault lay with the Spirit Hall.

Yet for the safety of the sect, he had been forced to expel Tang Hao, giving the Spirit Hall an explanation.

When news of Tang Hao’s death reached him, his grief was no less than Tang San’s. After the Spirit Empire’s founding, it was also he who defied opposition to reopen the mountain gates and ally with the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon and Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sects against the Spirit Empire.

For he knew: once the Spirit Empire defeated all opponents and unified the continent, the Clear Sky Sect—once number one under heaven—would never be spared.

Even if they chose seclusion, the Spirit Empire would not let them go.

The hall’s atmosphere congealed again; unease spread.

Then Ning Fengzhi’s warm, knowing voice broke the heavy silence:

“As to why history has changed so drastically, I do have a conjecture.”

His wise gaze swept the room and settled on Xuan Zi and his companions.

“Have you, by chance, heard of the Jade Chamber?”

Xuan Zi’s face shifted; he rumbled:

“Jade Chamber? Heard of it? More than that—we might even be more familiar with them than you are. Back in our world, when the Jade Chamber was first founded, Shrek Academy put in no small effort.”

Ning Fengzhi nodded slightly, confirming his guess. He sighed:

“So it is. The Jade Chamber’s origins are a mystery. They wield a simulated universe, soul tools far beyond this era, and miraculous stigmata—not technologies of our time. I once thought they were a hidden sect inheriting relics of the ancient past. But before the concept of parallel worlds, that theory seems far too conservative—and laughable.”

“Your sense is accurate.”

Xuan Zi’s voice dropped.

“This Jade Chamber is ninety-nine percent likely to be a subordinate branch of Haiyuan City—from our world. It seems the situation is worse than we thought. We were caught in a temporal accident; they… likely possess a relatively stable method of traveling between the two parallel worlds—and may have been laying their pieces here for a long time.”

The inference sent chills up every spine.

To freely shuttle between parallel worlds—what a terrifying capability.

Sword Douluo Chen Xin spoke then, his gaze sharp as a blade, aimed at Xuan Zi and his people.

“Since you hail from the same world, have you heard the names Snow Moon Douluo and Lu Jingming?”

“Snow-Moon Douluo?!”

“Lu Jingming?!”

Han Ruoruo cried out. She traded quick glances with Ma Xiaotao, Xu Sanshi, and the others; their eyes showed shock—but more a dawning certainty.

Ning Fengzhi, quick to catch their upheaval, pressed on: “From your reaction, you do know them?”

Xuan Zi’s face had gone so dark it might drip ink. How could he not know?

Back in the Star Dou Great Forest, he had personally tasted that Snow-Moon Douluo’s world-crowning sword. The force of that strike had left him gravely wounded; he had needed a long time to recover. Unforgettable.

Ma Xiaotao drew a deep breath, pressed down the storm in her heart, and explained in his stead:

“Snow-Moon Douluo is one of the apex powerhouses of our world—a level-99 limit Douluo. Her swordsmanship has reached perfection. She’s called the Sword God of the age.”

She paused, her tone growing more complex.

“And Lu Jingming… He’s recognized as number one among the younger generation of our era—his talent and strength immeasurable. His true identity is the Lord of Haiyuan City, and… the true master behind the Jade Chamber.”

Haiyuan City’s lord; the Jade Chamber’s hidden ruler. The twin revelations cracked like thunder through the Star Luo audience hall.

In that moment, the scattered clues linked. A vast shadow—spanning parallel worlds, laying deep schemes, with power and forces beyond reckoning—slowly loomed over them, its pressure, for a moment, even eclipsing the Spirit Empire’s.

“Ninety-nine, is it?”

Sword Douluo Chen Xin frowned slightly, murmuring.

A level-99 Title Douluo was already a mortal pinnacle—terrifying. Yet as a swordsman who had devoted his life to the blade, he instinctively felt that Snow-Moon Douluo could not be defined by a mere number.

He had once faced Snow-Moon within a simulated universe; that earth-shaking sword realm was anything but worldly.

But instinct was only that; without proof, he pressed the doubt down.

Xuan Zi then recounted the history of their world—a saga like myth—stirring a storm of thought that swept the hall and left every mind reeling.

His loud voice, tinged with the wear of time, told of a chapter like legend:

How Tang San underwent the Sea God’s Nine Trials and ultimately inherited the Sea God’s divinity, then coupled it with the decisive Asura God’s throne—two gods united, aweing the world.

How Xiao Wu became the scabbard to his blade, sharing the Asura throne—life and death as one.

How Dai Mubai and Zhu Zhuqing gained the thrones of War God and Speed God.

How Oscar and Ning Rongrong, despite being food and support types, received inheritances of the Food God and Nine-Colored Goddess.

How Ma Hongjun shed the evil fire and became the Phoenix God, soaring the heavens.

And how, at Jialing Pass—where the continent’s fate was decided—Tang San with twin thrones clashed in a heaven-rending three-god battle with Bibi Dong, the Rakshasa God, and Qian Renxue, the Angel God, and finally won—establishing a peace that lasted ten thousand years.

Though Xuan Zi necessarily hid some core secrets, the vivid, clear myth was enough to cast the hall into dead silence, a place where a pin could be heard falling.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep