Outrageous! I threw a hundred or so overpowered characters into Douluo Continent.

The excitement and cheers in the Spirit Hall Awakening Hall lingered for a long time. The four children were surrounded by a group of Title Douluos, the most dazzling prodigies on the entire continent.

On the other hand, things are really going badly for Pigsy... well, I mean, for Tang Hao and Tang San.

In the Holy Soul Village south of Notting City in the Fasno Province of the Heaven Dou Empire, only the perpetual smell of alcohol and rust from the dilapidated blacksmith shop at the west end of the village, along with an inescapable chill and desolation, filled the air.

The blacksmith shop was divided into two rooms. In the outer room, there was a rusty forge, and scattered iron blocks and farm tools waiting to be repaired were piled up in the corner. The floor was riddled with dents from years of hammering. In the inner room, there was only a hard wooden bed, a wooden table with a missing leg propped up by a stone, and two rough porcelain bowls with chipped rims. The air was filled with the pungent smell of cheap liquor, and dozens of empty wine jars were scattered haphazardly against the wall.

A burly, bald man with a perpetually hunched back sat slumped in a chair beside a blacksmith's forge, clutching a wine jar and gulping it down. His face was scarred and pitted, as if repeatedly corroded by strong acid and fire. His once rugged and handsome features were now completely ruined, leaving only a pair of cloudy eyes that occasionally flashed with a fierce and sharp edge that seemed utterly incongruous with his disheveled appearance, in the brief moments when the effects of the alcohol wore off.

No one knew that this down-on-his-luck blacksmith, known as "Tang the Hammer" by the villagers of Holy Soul Village, was none other than Tang Hao, the Haotian Douluo, who was famous throughout the continent six years ago and whose image is now painted all over the continent, with a bounty of one million gold soul coins and two ten-thousand-year soul bones.

In order to survive and escape the relentless pursuit, he not only destroyed his own appearance and changed his common name to one that no one would associate with the Haotian Sect, but also carved a prosthetic arm from hard iron birch wood and attached it perfectly to his severed right shoulder.

He usually wore a loose, greasy blacksmith's uniform, which completely covered his prosthetic arm. When forging iron, he would use a cloth strip to fix the prosthetic arm to the iron block and swing the hammer with only his left hand. He looked no different from the one-armed blacksmiths that could be seen everywhere on the continent, perfectly hiding the most iconic feature of that great battle—his right arm that had been cut off by the angel's holy sword.

The Holy Soul Village, where he chose to hide, was also the source of his life-or-death scheme.

The battle that ruined his reputation six years ago, the battle in the desolate rocky hills, was only three mountains away from Holy Soul Village, a half-day journey by fast horse.

People all over the continent thought he would take the children and escape to remote and desolate places like the Arctic Ice Plains or the Starry Sky Forest. No one would have thought that he was hiding right under the nose of the scene of the incident.

The most dangerous place is the safest place.

When Tang San was just one year old and still an infant, he took the child and hid in this remote little village, where they remained hidden for five years.

The young master of the dignified Haotian Sect, the youngest titled Douluo in the entire continent, now has to mingle with a group of peasants in his eyes, have to watch the faces of those commoners, and rely on making hoes and sickles for others to exchange for cheap drinks.

A tiger fallen into the plains is bullied by dogs; there is no better example than this.

But he had no other choice but to endure it.

In the great battle six years ago, he not only lost an arm, but the fundamental damage left by the explosion has never recovered. Only alcohol can barely numb the pain that penetrates to the bone.

More importantly, he is wanted by the entire continent. If he reveals even the slightest trace of Haotian Douluo, he will be met with a relentless and deadly attack.

To survive, and to seek revenge, he had no choice but to endure.

Patience!

After downing more than half of the inferior wine, Tang Hao slammed the jar to the ground, scattering ceramic shards mixed with the remaining wine everywhere.

He was breathing heavily, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the window, a low growl like that of a wounded beast emanating from his throat, countless resentments and unwillingness churning in his chest, almost tearing him apart.

He couldn't understand it, he really couldn't understand it.

In that great battle six years ago, all he wanted was to protect his beloved Ah Yin, and to protect his wife and children from the Spirit Hall and those wolves who coveted the 100,000-year spirit ring.

He considered himself a towering figure, willing to stand against the whole world for his lover, and should have been a deeply affectionate hero praised by the world. How could he have become a sinner who betrayed humanity, colluded with soul beasts, and fallen into the demonic path overnight?

Damn it! They're all damned!

Those hypocrites from the Spirit Hall, they were the ones who coveted Ah Yin's 100,000-year spirit ring and spirit bone, and they set up the trap to kill her first. But in the end, they turned around and blamed him for everything!

And those sects and two great empires that followed suit, each one of them hypocritical, were just envious of Ah Yin's soul bone and soul ring, and were taking advantage of the situation to plunder!

And the Haotian Sect! His sect! The place where he was born and raised!

They actually expelled him from the sect in front of the entire continent, severing all ties with him! Those old fogies, who usually talk about sect honor and brotherhood, didn't dare to utter a single word of explanation when disaster struck, only knowing how to protect themselves!

Tang Hao slammed his fist into the blacksmith's furnace, instantly denting the heavy furnace and sending sparks flying.

His gaze fell on the small figure standing on tiptoe making the bed by the bed in the inner room. A twisted emotion surged in his eyes, a mixture of hostility, resentment, and a hint of fear that even he himself was unwilling to admit.

If it weren't for this child, if he and Ah Yin hadn't had this child, how could Ah Yin have been forced into a sacrifice? How could he have ended up in this state?

But the thought was quickly suppressed by an even deeper sense of unease.

He never actually had any hope for the child's martial spirit to awaken.

Ah Yin is a 100,000-year-old Blue Silver Emperor. Even after transforming into a human and possessing a human body and soul, the soul beast essence in her bones has never disappeared.

In the Douluo Continent, the union of humans and soul beasts has always been a major taboo, and there are precedents for it.

Those wolf bandits who roam the countryside, aren't they just wolf-headed monsters born from the hybridization of humans and Gale Wolves?

They look like humans, but are bloodthirsty soul beasts at heart, devoid of any humanity, knowing only how to kill and destroy, and are hated by everyone on the continent.

He stared at Tang San, who was fast asleep, more than once in the dead of night. The child looked no different from a human child, but the weight in his heart never lifted.

Six years have passed, and the child has grown up peacefully to the age of six. But who knows what will happen at the moment of the awakening of the martial soul?

What if I really awaken a half-human, half-beast martial soul? What if I really am a born bastard or monster, just like those people say?

At that time, not only will his crime of "human-animal intercourse" be completely confirmed, but the child will also be killed on the spot.

Not to mention that he secretly practiced a technique he had never seen before when he was three or four years old.

He even considered what he would do if it really came to that.

Should they end the child's life themselves, or fight their way out with him and continue their life on the run?