Douluo Continent: Martial Soul - Agave, Self-created Earth God Position

Douluo Calendar, Year 2628. Sabo is twelve years old.

Nine months ago, Saab stood at the door of his single dormitory, clutching the last batch of supplies list in his hand.

He turned and went inside, closing the door behind him.

The dormitory was small, with a bed, a table, and a wardrobe; it was clean but somewhat deserted.

For the past six years, he has become accustomed to being alone—running alone in the morning and cultivating himself alone.

A person is alone in this room facing a long night.

Sabo sat on the edge of the bed, putting the supplies into his storage ring one by one.

Herbal medicine packet, whale glue bottle, and several pieces of soul beast meat wrapped in oil paper.

He picked up the list and looked at it again. The last line was in his grandfather's handwriting: "Bo'er, this is the last batch. Grandpa did his best."

The pen tip trembled slightly, as if the hand holding the pen was shaking.

He closed his eyes and pressed the list to his chest.

In six years, he spent all the wealth that his grandfather had accumulated over a decade.

As the butler was leaving, he said that Lord Salas had spent all his savings, except for the little money he had saved for your wedding.

Sabo opened his eyes and his gaze fell on the bottle on the table filled with whale glue.

From now on, there will be no continuous supply of resources.

Herbs should be used sparingly, as the mimicry training room will still be usable for some time.

Sabo muttered to himself, "From now on, I'll have to rely on myself."

Days pass by.

Sabo continued his morning runs, but the weight he was carrying began to decrease.

He knew that without sufficient medicinal baths and soul beast meat to replenish his nutrition, forcing himself to endure it would only harm him.

As he squatted down to untie the weights, his fingers lingered on the straps for a long time before finally loosening them.

After the start of summer, the single-person mimicry training room expired.

Sabo stood at the door of the solitary mimicry room where he had spent several years, reached out and touched the cold door frame, then turned and left, never looking back.

The public meditation room is located on the first basement floor of the teaching building; it is a huge open hall.

Dozens of students huddled together to cultivate, their soul power fluctuations of various attributes mixed together, creating a cacophony as loud as a market.

He found a spot in the very corner and sat down cross-legged.

The visualization process was much slower than in the single-person simulation room, but he didn't complain.

Simply contemplate it over and over again, spending several times the time to achieve the same effect.

The growth of soul power is getting slower and slower.

Sabo felt that his level was already at the peak of level 19.

I'm just a hair's breadth away from breaking through to level 20.

But this sliver is like a bottomless trench.

Sabo had a heavy weight on his mind.

He began to suffer from insomnia, tossing and turning in bed, lost in thought.

He pondered how to cross this chasm.

As long as you break through to level 20.

Thanks to the large amounts of whale gelatin he has taken over the years, the therapeutic effects of medicinal baths, and years of exercise.

Choosing a second spirit ring that is over a thousand years old is perfectly fine.

That's where the difficulty lies.

The family's wealth has been depleted.

"Over the years, my grandfather has been buying whale glue on a large scale. There are rumors that he is disrespectful to his age, still buying high-aged whale glue at such an advanced age."

You should know that this stuff was used by nobles to swell sheep.

So what should we do? Should we go directly to the Spirit Hall and beg Chrysanthemum Douluo?

But he was only a nominal disciple, not even a real disciple.

This will only disgust His Majesty Chrysanthemum Douluo, completely squandering any remaining goodwill he might have had.

Honestly, Sabo really envies those protagonists with cheat codes.

With just a tap, your troubles are solved.

Or perhaps an old man would bring you a prescription, which you would then use to refine elixirs and sell them at auction for money.

Or they design a piece of equipment to make money.

"What else can we do but offer the half-finished Ripple Breathing Technique to His Holiness the Pope?"

"Or perhaps they reported the special effects of the whale glue."

Two little elves seemed to appear in Sabo's mind.

In the end, he rejected them one by one.

Offering it to the Pope ahead of time would not only significantly reduce the reward, but the most difficult part would be justifying it.

He might become the second "master" Yu Xiaogang.

Sabo came up with an extreme solution.

With the remaining bottle of Wannian Whale Glue in hand, relying on its domineering impact...

Break through this level 20 blockade.

What he wanted was the courage and determination to destroy the old and build the new, to be reborn from the ashes.

In the last few days of his twelfth year, Sabo made a crazy decision.

He took something out from the deepest part of his storage ring.

Sabo held the whale gel in his palm and looked at it for a long time.

Then I poured a cup of hot water and put the whale gelatin in my mouth.

The strong fishy smell assaulted his senses, and he forced himself to take a bite, but he couldn't bite it.

This whale glue is like rubber; you bite into it and it bounces back, you can't chew it or swallow it.

He had no choice but to hold the whole piece in his mouth and use the heat of his saliva and hot water to slowly soften it.

The warm air rises from the mouth, slides down the throat, enters the stomach, and then spreads outwards from the stomach.

His skin began to turn red, and large beads of sweat dripped from his forehead, quickly soaking his clothes.

Sabo gritted his teeth and sat cross-legged in meditation.

The energy of whale gelatin surges through the body like a flood bursting its banks.

That force was too intense; it washed over my dantian and limbs several times before finally reaching the top of my head, like a red-hot iron hammer striking me.

It hurts. It hurts like hell.

He didn't cry out. He bit his lip until it bled, and clutched his abdomen tightly with both hands.

The fingernails were embedded in the skin of the abdomen, arms, and back of the hands.

He told himself he couldn't stop, couldn't slack off, couldn't give up, and couldn't quit.

After all, there's no such thing as surrendering and losing half the battle here.

Once you can't hold on any longer, it's gone forever.

We must adopt the mindset that "when two brave men meet on a narrow path, the brave win; when two brave men meet, the wise win; and when two wise men meet, the one who perseveres wins."

that's it.

The energy of the whale gel ran through my body for a whole day.

From night to morning, and from morning to night again.

The sky outside the window changed from pitch black to deep blue, and then from deep blue to light gray.

He stood motionless, like a stone statue.

His clothes dried and then got wet again, then dried again, and a layer of white salt frost formed on them.

His lips were cracked and bleeding, his face was completely pale, his eye sockets were sunken, and his features were sharply defined.

Sabo slowly opened his eyes and looked down at his hands.

His palms were covered in sweat, mixed with blood flowing from his lips, abdomen, and the backs of his hands and arms.

The liquid fell to the ground, forming a faint red stain.

He turned his palm over and looked at the scars on the back of his hand.

He slowly stood up, supporting himself on the table. His stomach was growling with hunger, and his legs felt weak.

He staggered to the window and pushed it open. It was raining outside, and a fierce wind was blowing directly in his face.

He shivered from the cold, but instead of shrinking back, he opened the window even wider.

He threw his head back and laughed wildly, his hair disheveled, "Hahahahahahahahaha... It's done... I've succeeded... I've made it..."

"Are you crazy?! What's wrong with you in the middle of the night? Are you tired of living?!"

Sabo ignored him and instead laughed even louder and more maniacally.

The boy's face was streaked with tears, it was hard to tell whether they were rain or tears.

Sabo ignored the curses outside the window.

All he knew was that his efforts over the past few years had not been in vain, and that he had not lived in vain.

"Plan A is complete, we can begin Plan B..."