Douluo: I become stronger when I take in disciples!

Chapter 257 The Fifth Ring

The sweltering heat in the air, like viscous amber, froze the three of them's breaths into slow, bubbling sounds. Withered petals crunched painfully underfoot, and the heatwave emanating from the depths of the Weeping Flower Abyss in the distance, carrying the stench of sulfur, occasionally ruffled the crooked silver bells in Ren Yaoyao's hair, causing them to shatter softly. Mo Lingyun lowered her gaze to the disheveled silver ornaments in her companion's hair, a rusty bitterness rising in her throat—the crimson gauze dress swaying behind Feng Yang at this moment should have been the scenery she most longed to touch in her dreams.

“Let’s go.” Feng Yang’s boots crushed the scorched earth, and sparks flew as they landed on Mo Lingyun’s hand, leaving tiny burn marks. Blue flames traced a flowing galaxy behind him, but when they touched the withered flower stems around him, they instantly burned the curled vines to ashes. The heat wave he generated as he turned stirred the two women’s hair. Ren Yaoyao unconsciously raised her hand to shield herself, but froze the moment her fingertips touched the air—the temperature was exactly the same as the scorching heat that had just enveloped her.

The ground beneath their feet seemed to have been scorched for a thousand years, each step leaving fine cracks spreading across the soles of their shoes. Inky smoke seeped from the earth, blurring the distant scenery into indistinct, blood-red outlines. The two girls followed, their footsteps uneven, their skirts brushing against the charred flower stems, emitting soft, mournful sounds. Ren Yaoyao suddenly stumbled, barely managing to catch herself. As she looked into the dark current surging in Mo Lingyun's eyes, she suddenly recalled the scene of them picking flowers together as children. Back then, they had chased each other along the stream filled with irises, but now all that remained were twisted, withered vines, emitting eerie groans in the heat.

"Lingyun, how could things have turned out like this?" Ren Yaoyao's voice was like a withered leaf crushed by wind and sand. Her gaze swept over a withered tree not far away, still burning. Flames licked the charred trunk, strange purple mycelium sprouting from the ashes. She remembered the burning heat of Feng Yang's palm against the back of her neck when Lan Yan was engulfed; that temperature seemed to still burn in her blood, merging with the suffocating heat around them.

Mo Lingyun turned her face away, her black hair ribbon fluttering in the wind, but unable to dispel the choking smoke that filled the air. "How would I know you?" She realized her mistake before she could finish speaking, hurriedly adding, "After all, the flower poison is extremely potent," but the tremor in her voice couldn't hide the shards of ice in her tone. She stared at the winding lava trails on the ground, the dark red lines slowly writhing like the earth's flowing wounds.

Ren Yaoyao was completely unaware, her fingers twisting into fine wrinkles as she gripped her sleeve. "This is the first time I've been... been with him like this..." Her voice suddenly lowered, swept away by a sudden gust of wind. In the distance came the rumble of a mountain splitting open, and tiny sparks, like red snowflakes, fluttered down onto her shoulders.

Mo Lingyun stared at the arc of Feng Yang's cloak billowing, her nails almost digging into her palms. "Don't think too much about it, it's for saving my life." As soon as she finished speaking, the surrounding air suddenly trembled violently, a withered giant tree crashed to the ground, and within the rising dust, glimmering eerie red lights could be vaguely seen—the eyes of soul beasts lurking in the ashes. A deep roar suddenly came from Han Yuan in her sea of ​​consciousness, and she realized with a start that the icy mist around her had condensed into tiny ice crystals, colliding with the sparks floating in the air, producing a crackling sound.

"But I..." Ren Yaoyao was about to speak when she was interrupted by the other party.

“Feng Yang is a deity.” The gust of wind that swept through Mo Lingyun as she turned tousled her hair, revealing the bloodshot veins at the corners of her eyes. Her gaze swept over the twisted lava river in the distance, the churning magma resembling the veins of a colossal beast. “Do you think he would stop for something like this?” These words, like poisoned arrows, not only struck Ren Yaoyao but also pierced her own heart. Suddenly, a few drops of scalding “rain” fell from the sky, striking the scorched earth and creating black craters.

Ren Yaoyao's lips trembled, finally uttering a broken sigh. "I overstepped my bounds." She gazed at the tall figure before her, the blue flames surrounding him echoing the distant afterimage of the fire spirit, dyeing the sky an eerie purplish-gold. Suddenly, she remembered her master's words—the mercy of the gods is but a fleeting dream for mortals. And at this moment, the ground beneath her feet was burning hot, as if the entire Weeping Flower Abyss was brewing an even greater disaster.

"What are you dawdling about?" Feng Yang's voice, carrying the oppressive force of flames, came from behind him. As he turned around, the afterimage of the fire spirit behind him suddenly brightened, stretching the shadows of the two women onto the scorched earth, intertwining like thorns. The surrounding temperature suddenly soared, and the withered vines that had already been extinguished reignited in the high temperature, bursting forth with eerie blue flames.

As they approached the cliff, the air grew as hot as lead. Withered grass twisted into jagged claws in the heat, sparks extinguished by the fiercer winds, only to be strangely reborn from the ashes. Suddenly, Mo Lingyun grabbed Ren Yaoyao's wrist, pointing—the phantom of a Qilin formed from flames was swirling in the air, its orange-red tongues of fire outlining the location of the scorching beast. Reflected in the afterimage of the fire spirit, Ren Yaoyao noticed that Mo Lingyun's eyes held not only wariness of the beast, but also a dark fire more dangerous than the Weeping Flower Abyss. The mountain wind howled, swirling up the ashes and weaving a blurry, crimson net in the air.

As the three ventured deeper into the heart of the Weeping Flower Abyss, the air grew increasingly thick, like molten lava. Dark red lava patterns flowed along the rock walls, meandering into eerie totems on the scorched mountain surface. Rounding a cracked precipice, the heat suddenly seemed to solidify—in the center of the circular valley, a silver-white spirit beast lay curled up on the scorched earth.

Its body resembled a leaping celestial horse, with dragon horns like those of a unicorn on its head. Yet, no flames were visible on its surface; only the air around it distorted into transparent ripples. Its three-meter-long body was covered with deep, bone-revealing wounds. Each breath was accompanied by a subtle crackling sound. The surrounding vegetation spontaneously combusted in the invisible heat, and the ashes floated in mid-air, condensing and refusing to disperse, as if shrouded in a burning veil.

"You all, leave at once!" As the spirit beast spoke, golden blood seeped from its cracked lips, dripping onto the ground and instantly igniting a hundred-foot-tall pillar of fire. A dying eerie light flickered in its amber vertical pupils, while its massive body trembled, as if it would shatter into countless sparks at any moment. Suddenly, black, asphalt-like slurry seeped from the rock wall, flowing along the ravines, sizzling and burning even the hardest rock in its path.

The charred mountainside twisted into eerie arcs in the heatwave. Mo Lingyun's fingers, gripping the Spirit Control Token tightly, turned slightly white. The illusory image of Han Yuan flickered behind her, its icy blue light clashing with the surrounding churning heat. "It seems to still retain a sliver of reason; it's not like an ordinary ferocious beast." Her voice was torn to shreds by the howling mountain wind, her gaze fixed on the spirit beast huddled in a crevice in the lava. Its sun-kissed, silvery-white fur was covered in scorch marks, each wound oozing golden-red blood that instantly transformed into burning runes upon landing, outlining ancient and mysterious totems on the scorched earth.

Ren Yaoyao trembled as she gripped the broken jade flute. Her blood-stained skirt billowed in the blast of air, and the crooked silver bell in her hair groaned under the intense heat. "But it destroyed the village, and so many people died." The charred remains of the old locust tree at the village entrance flashed before her eyes, along with the despairing faces of the villagers consumed by the flames. Ashes fell like snow, accumulating into tiny black flakes on her shoulders, mingling with the undried tear tracks on her face.

"I am the spirit beast Zhuo Ri, how could I do such a thing?" Zhuo Ri struggled to raise its cracked dragon head, its amber vertical pupils flickering with a dying eerie light. With each word it uttered, drops of golden-red blood seeped from its chapped lips, blooming into fleeting flames on the ground. "I lost my mind, burning down many villages and towns wherever I went, which was not my intention," its voice seemed to be squeezed from the depths of its chest, filled with indescribable pain and regret. "Afterwards, I wandered to this place, where the Bewitching Flower helped me exhaust myself and gave me a moment of clarity, at least preventing me from harming anyone again." Its beastly body trembled violently with each word, sending sparks flying.

"Then why?" Mo Lingyun was about to press for an answer when a scorching gale suddenly swept through the mountains, swirling the ashes from the ground into the air, forming a crimson wall of mist. Before Zhuori could answer, it suddenly sprang up, flames erupting from its body, its silvery-white fur standing on end, like a Qilin reborn from the ashes. "I am a spirit beast! How can I be insulted as a ferocious beast! To live such a wretched existence is worse than to perish!" It roared to the sky, the sound waves causing rocks to fall from the cliffs, the air within a ten-zhang radius to distort into vortexes, and flames shot up from its dragon horns into the sky, exploding into a crimson-gold light among the clouds. The dark patterns on Zhuori's body began to spread wildly, each line writhing like a living creature, gradually dyeing its fur an ominous blackish-red.

Startled, the two girls instinctively raised their hands to cover their faces. Mo Lingyun's ice shield, barely formed, hissed and crackled rapidly from the heat, spreading like a spiderweb. At the critical moment, blue flames surged around Feng Yang. Unlike the scorching sun, the blue flame sphere that materialized in his palm gleamed with a chilling light, as if containing the coldness of the deep sea. This was clearly another water-attribute martial soul of his; the icy blue flames, while flowing, possessed no heat whatsoever, instead causing the surrounding air to condense into tiny ice crystals.

"Lingyun, I've trapped it. Use your ice power to cool it down." Feng Yang shouted, and blue flames bound Zhuori's limbs like chains. The blue flames sizzled as they touched the spirit beast's fur, forcing the dark patterns back slightly. Mo Lingyun immediately activated her spirit rings, and the light of her fourth spirit ring shone brightly. Ice power poured down on Zhuori like a cascading silver river. Where ice and fire collided, white mist rose into the air, and countless tiny ice crystals crackled and popped in the air, like a symphony of ice and fire.

Time seemed to freeze amidst the violent collision of energy. The raging sun's body gradually calmed, and the flames around it dimmed. As the last wisp of icy mist dissipated, its eyes finally cleared, and it regained its reason. "Thank you...you all..." The sun's breath was weak, its tail sweeping feebly across the scorched earth, sending sparks flying. "If it weren't for you, I fear I would have already fallen into eternal damnation."

"Senior, what exactly happened?" Mo Lingyun asked hurriedly, her voice still carrying the tension that had not yet dissipated, her hair curving messily against her face by the heat.

"I...I..." Zhuo Ri hesitated for a moment, the thin flames on its dragon horns flickering uncertainly, before finally gritting its teeth and saying, "I wanted to evolve from a spirit into a demigod, but I never imagined I would suffer a qi deviation and lose my mind." Its voice grew softer and softer, filled with endless regret and self-reproach, "The demonic energy generated during the evolution backfired, causing this great disaster."

The three of them fell silent for a moment, a heavy silence filling the air. Ren Yaoyao broke the silence first: "We thought you were like the ferocious beasts outside, controlled by someone."

"Hmph." Zhuo Ri snorted coldly, the remaining flames flickering slightly in his mane. Though weak, he still carried the arrogance of a 120,000-year-old spirit beast. "I am a 120,000-year-old spirit beast, who can control me?" The mountain wind swept by, stirring up the ashes on the ground, dissipating this slightly awkward conversation into the depths of the Weeping Flower Abyss. Meanwhile, the distant sky had been stained with an eerie blood-red hue.

Above the scorched earth, the air still carried the lingering echoes of the clash between ice and fire. The little tiger, Han Yuan, hovering in mid-air, shook its crystalline, ice-patterned fur, its amber vertical pupils gleaming faintly: "Horse, you must have been a spirit beast of the Yu Ling Sect, right?" Its voice, tinged with the crisp sound of clashing ice shards, sounded like thunder to Zhuo Ri's ears.

The dragon's horns, which had been hanging low, trembled suddenly, and a wary glint appeared in its amber vertical pupils. Its massive body leaned back slightly, and sparks that had not yet been extinguished fell from its silvery-white mane: "You actually knew?" There was an imperceptible tremor in its hoarse voice, as if a long-sealed memory had been suddenly unearthed.

This tacit agreement caused the Spirit Control Token at Mo Lingyun's fingertips to glow faintly. She took half a step forward, her dark skirt sweeping across the scorched ground: "Senior has a connection with the Spirit Control Sect?" A mountain breeze swept by, ruffling the stray hairs at her temples, and her eyes gleamed with an irrepressible anticipation.

Han Yuan swayed its fluffy tail, and icy mist condensed into a miniature Bagua diagram at the tips of its claws: "I just don't know, which generation of sect leader of the Yu Ling Sect are you the spirit beast of?" Before it finished speaking, the surrounding temperature plummeted, and spiderweb-like thin ice formed on the ground.

"The fourth generation, Mo Lingyun." Zhuo Ri's voice seemed to come from beneath the thousand-year-old ice layer, and the extinguished flames on the dragon's horns suddenly rippled. It gazed at the sect emblem that was faintly visible on Mo Lingyun's waist, and memories surged like lava—that young sect leader in white robes had once stroked its mane with the same gentle gaze.

Mo Lingyun's pupils contracted slightly. The name on the family tree, merely a faded ink mark, now transformed into a burning totem in Zhuo Ri's eyes. Before she could speak, Han Yuan had already transformed into a stream of light, circling around Zhuo Ri: "Alright, that's not important." Its voice suddenly turned serious, and icy mist condensed into the phantom of chains, "What's important is that if you want to live now, and live with dignity, and not suffer from qi deviation, you must become the spirit master of Mo Lingyun, the current disciple of the Spirit Control Sect, and replenish the ice of this mountain god. Are you willing?"

Zhuo Ri stared intently at Mo Lingyun's resolute gaze, then looked at the ice patterns flowing around Han Yuan—they bore a striking resemblance to the spirit control technique Mo Lingyun had used a thousand years ago. It breathed heavily, the golden blood seeping from its wounds suddenly transforming into starlight: "If it can truly be so, I will be eternally grateful." Before its words were finished, all the flames around it vanished, transforming into a gentle, flowing crimson-gold light.

Mo Lingyun's heart pounded like a drum. The moment her fingertips touched the Spirit Control Token, the dormant names on the family tree suddenly awakened in her sea of ​​consciousness. "Then, senior, I will use the Spirit Control Technique on you." She took a deep breath, and the soul power inherited from her sect flowed from her fingertips into Zhuo Ri's brow, causing thousands of icy blue runes to explode in the air.

Get ready for the fifth ring.

(End of this chapter)