Douluo Dalu: From Shinobi to Spirit Master

Yet, it turns out that Ju Douluo, the Ghost Douluo, celebrated far too early.

Perhaps it was the calm, low-key demeanor of the white-haired boy, his polite interactions with others, that led everyone to subconsciously overlook certain terrifying truths.

For one, this child possessed level 15 soul power.

And even more shocking…

This child was only six years old.

Furthermore…

"Hahahahaha! Did the two of you eat the poisonous mushrooms from the Star Dou Forest? Do you expect anyone to believe a three-year-old can say this?"

Some lies are so absurd that no one will believe them unless they see them with their own eyes.

Above the central square of Wuhun City, floating within the clouds, stood the magnificent Pope's Palace, towering in all its resplendent glory. The golden structure shimmered through the mist, surrounded by towering palace buildings.

The Pope's Palace!

The sacred heart of every soul master across the Douluo Continent. The apex of authority, the pinnacle of power, the true epitome of a soul master's dream.

And in that hall, laughter echoed throughout its golden walls.

The polished floors reflected the intricate murals like a fine mirror. The glazed tiles shone transparently, yet without any blinding brightness. Several figures stood in two neat rows. Yet, the hall felt oddly empty, as if the laughter filled the space to its maximum capacity.

"Six years old, level 15 soul power? A thousand-year soul ring, four soul skills, mastery of so many abilities... Yue Guan, Ghost Douluo, I suggest you two leave criminal law behind and consider writing stories. You are truly gifted at it," someone laughed mockingly.

"Hahaha, yes, next you'll say he became a Titled Douluo at sixteen and ascended to godhood at eighteen. Why not, right? Hahaha!" another joined in with venomous amusement.

The laughter was endless, ranging from well-meaning banter to malicious ridicule, and even covert schemes, each one louder than the last.

Naturally, the two main characters were not in the mood to join in.

In the center of the hall, Ju Douluo and Ghost Douluo stood, their faces a picture of awkwardness.

As the laughter grew louder, Yue Guan's clenched teeth ground together, his neck flushing with anger. He could no longer contain his frustration, snapping, "Do you really think we'd let such an easily exposed lie slip through?"

The Ghost Douluo remained silent, nodding subtly in agreement. His mind silently noted the names of those who mocked them.

"Your Majesty the Pope, I demand that the child be brought here immediately to show you what a real genius looks like!" Yue Guan declared, eyes burning with determination. His gaze shifted toward the throne, where the beautiful figure of the Pope rested.

She closed her eyes as if resting, her long eyelashes fluttering slightly, unaffected by the arguments that raged in the hall.

"No, Elder Ju, I'm not a villain to judge a man's heart. But there are certain forbidden drugs that could produce these effects. The only issue is their temporary nature," a voice spoke, cutting through the tension.

The speaker was a young man dressed in a finely tailored light gray robe, a symbol of his worshipful status. His left eye was covered in a patch of ice and snow, his faint smile revealing little of his true thoughts.

He glanced toward Ju Douluo, speaking with a calm, almost mocking tone.

"'You.'"

Yue Guan glared at the young man, his teeth gritted in barely contained rage. "Elder Guangling, what do you mean by that?"

"Well, Elder Ju, your comprehension of words seems lacking," the young man replied with a smile. "The young should act their age. You only deceive yourself, never others."

He smirked, casting a glance at the Pope on her throne, his meaning not lost on anyone in the room.

"Scoundrel," Yue Guan muttered under his breath, but he dared not act on his impulse. He knew that no matter how much he wanted to punch that handsome face, it would be a futile effort.

The man might appear young, but he was over ninety years old, a powerhouse with both strength and influence far beyond Yue Guan's reach.

Even more troubling was the fact that Elder Guangling was a staunch supporter of the Seraphim lineage and had long been dissatisfied with the Pope's position. Such figures were not rare in Spirit Hall.

If Yue Guan made his hostility too obvious, it would only stir unnecessary trouble for His Majesty the Pope.

That old man pretending to be young would meet his end sooner or later.

With a fierce inward curse at Guangling Douluo, Yue Guan took a deep breath. He glanced around the hall, his gaze lingering on the others. A sly sneer formed on his face.

If this child's story was indeed a lie, the Pope would most certainly have to answer for it.

But this time, you're about to be slapped in the face.

What's so funny?

Everyone in the hall was momentarily confused.

How could anyone still laugh in such a situation?

Guangling Douluo furrowed his brow, a sense of unease rising in his chest.

Could it be true?

No, that's impossible.

As a veteran Title Douluo, even guangling Douluo found Yue Guan's words hard to believe. It wasn't about factional bias. In fact, upon hearing Ju Douluo's description, he had analyzed the situation thoroughly in his mind. After exhausting every possibility, he finally dismissed the idea, certain it couldn't be true.

Still, this opportunity to criticize Bibi Dong was too good to pass up.

Not only had he read Su Chen's profile, but he also knew it well. As one of the three most prominent figures in the Spirit Hall, the information had been shared with him early on.

From the moment the white-haired boy wet the bed to his struggles to build his strength, every detail had been thoroughly investigated in the past few days, including Su Chen's father, Su Xiao, and even his ancestors.

Looking at it all, two words came to mind: ordinary.

His ancestors' martial spirits were ordinary, their strength ordinary, and their family background was far from impressive.

Su Xiao became a Purple Cardinal not because of extraordinary power, but because of his wealth of experience. To put it bluntly, his family had been loyal servants to Spirit Hall for generations, and after years of service, they had been rewarded with the title of Purple Cardinal.

Perhaps it was this continued loyalty that had led to a rare spirit mutation in Su Chen's generation. Guangling Douluo couldn't discern what it was. After all, the continent was vast, and Spirit Hall was not omnipotent.

But one thing was certain: Su Chen's innate full soul power indicated that his spirit was far from weak.

That white-haired boy was undoubtedly bright from a young age, a self-disciplined thinker.

He was a genius, a rare prodigy in fact.

But genius alone didn't explain the outrageous claims made by Ju Douluo. Such feats were beyond even his understanding as a Title Douluo.

If Ju Douluo thought this boy would enhance his prestige, then he had another thing coming.

If it weren't for the old Pope's orders, who would give Ju Douluo the right to sit in that position?

Glancing at Bibi Dong, who sat calmly on the Pope's throne, Guangling Douluo couldn't help but feel a flicker of disdain.

"Since Elder Ju is so confident, then bring this child here. If he has any tricks up his sleeve, it won't escape the elders' eyes."

A cold and imposing voice reverberated throughout the hall, quickly silencing the once-boisterous crowd.

Bibi Dong remained composed, her gaze fixed on Guangling Douluo's sharp eyes.

The atmosphere turned oppressive, and the entire hall fell silent, with everyone lowering their heads in deference.

Moments later, Guangling Douluo's gaze shifted. He averted his eyes, finally lowering his head.

"The Pope has the final say," he muttered.

"However, I must say this beforehand, Elder Ju: do not make empty boasts."

He directed a pointed smile toward Ju Douluo, whose expression had darkened with frustration.

In just a few words, he had backed them into a corner.

"You humph!"

Unable to hold back his fury any longer, Ju Douluo bowed stiffly to Bibi Dong and stormed out of the hall, Ghost Douluo in tow, not daring to look back.

"Young people these days really have no patience, don't you think so, Your Holiness?"

Guangling Douluo sighed dramatically, though his frown deepened slightly.

Why were these two so confident? Even Bibi Dong...

He stole a glance at Bibi Dong, who remained serene, resting with her eyes closed, unaffected by the tension around her.

At this point, after cutting off all their escape routes, she remained utterly unfazed.

Could it be that the boy named Su Chen was truly that extraordinary?

No, it's impossible. Such a thing couldn't exist.

Guangling Douluo exhaled slowly, shaking his head. His suspicions were confirmed.

It was just another ruse. Bibi Dong would regret this, he thought. Soon enough, she would find herself hoisted on her own petard.