The sun rose slowly over the Spirit Empire, but no warmth followed.
The sky felt heavier, the air thicker, as though the world itself struggled to recover from the divine blow it had suffered the day before.
Despite the best efforts of Spirit Hall's upper echelons to contain the information, the truth had already begun to flew into every corner of the continent.
One day.
That's all it took.
Just one day, and the rumors had already outpaced the truth.
It was no longer just whispers now.
From the icy northern continent to the burning deserts of the south, in every corner of the world—be it peasant, priest, noble, or beast—the name "otherworldly" had begun to pass from lips with both fear and awe.
They didn't know what he was.
But they knew what he wasn't.
He was no ordinary spirit master.
He was no god either.
He was something else.
And the balance of the world will be shifted in his arrival.
Star Dou Forest –
A gentle rustling broke the morning hush as sunlight filtered through a break in the emerald canopy, casting golden beams onto the forest floor below.
Nestled against the root of a towering thousand-year tree, two figures shared a moment of quiet intimacy—an image of serene motherhood deep within the wild heart of the forest.
Ah Rou, the legendary 100,000-year Soft Bone Rabbit, sat cross-legged on the mossy earth, her slender fingers gently combing through her daughter's silky, brown long hair.
Her human form was a vision of immortal grace—snowy skin flawless and supple, her curves soft yet noble, shaped by millennia of strength and survival.
A pink ribbon tied her waist-length hair in place, while her long, rabbit-like ears twitched with every shift of the wind, ever alert.
Even in stillness, she radiated the haunting elegance of a spirit beast who had transcended time.
Resting against her lap was Xiao Wu, her only daughter—young, vibrant, yet she is quiet a bit unease this morning.
Twelve years in appearance, Xiao Wu was blooming into a beauty born of rabbit bloodline and spirit beast heritage.
Her long, shapely legs were crossed, her fair cheeks slightly flushed, and her pink eyes—usually full of mischief—held a rare seriousness today.
"Mother," Xiao Wu murmured, voice soft as the forest breeze.
"Did you feel it too? Yesterday… that tremor. It wasn't just thunder, was it?"
Ah Rou's hands paused for a breath, then continued combing gently.
"I felt it," she said at last, her voice unreadable.
"It came from the human lands," Xiao Wu continued, looking upward.
"Spirit Hall… I heard it. Something descended. Something strong."
Ah Rou gave a small nod.
Xiao Wu hesitated—then spoke her heart.
"I want to go to the human world, Mother."
Ah Rou's hands froze.
Xiao Wu looked down, her voice trembling with conviction.
"I've always wanted to. But now… something's different. It's like the world is changing—and I want to see it. I don't want to just listen to stories anymore."
The forest rustled around them, a whisper of fate in the leaves.
Finally, Ah Rou cupped her daughter's cheek and gently turned her face toward her.
Xiao Wu's breath caught at the look in her mother's eyes—sad, proud, and something full of motherly love.
"You're not a child anymore," Ah Rou said softly.
"I knew this day would come. I only wished it would come later. I have already delayed your journey in the past to the human world for 6 years."
She paused.
"But you're right. The world is changing. And maybe… maybe we are meant to change with it too."
Xiao Wu's pink eyes lit up—but before she could leap with joy, Ah Rou added gently,
"Promise me one thing. Never reveal what you truly are. Not until the time is right."
"I promise!" Xiao Wu said earnestly, hugging her mother tightly.
Ah Rou returned the embrace, but her gaze lifted to the canopy above, sunlight flickering through the leaves.
She felt it.
Something… warm.
Familiar.
Distant.
"…Have you returned?" she whispered inwardly.
"After all this time… is it truly you?"
But she said nothing aloud.
Her daughter could not know.
Not yet.
Spirit City – Grand Gates of the Supreme Hall
The golden chariot gleamed under the noonday sun as it arrived at the gates of Spirit Hall's inner sanctum.
Escorted by a unit of elite guards in spirit hall military armor, Qian Renxue descended gracefully, her long golden hair tied into a high warrior's braid.
Her armor gleamed like dawn itself, but her heart was heavy.
Her usually perfect posture was tense, and her expression, though seems okay, but it was actually carved with worry.
At the steps of the Spirit Hall stood two familiar figures—Ghost Douluo and Chrysanthemum Douluo, both standing tall in ceremonial robes.
They bowed low.
"Welcome, Young Miss," Ghost Douluo said respectfully, his ghastly face unreadable.
"Lady Qian Renxue," Chrysanthemum Douluo added with a flamboyant flourish, though his usual dramatics were dulled by the situation.
"We are honored."
"Where is my mother?" she asked without pretense.
Both Douluos straightened.
"She is resting," Ghost Douluo answered. "Fine, but exhausted. Her body remains unharmed, but the force she encountered was beyond anything we've seen. She has been unconscious since."
"Take me to her," Qian Renxue said instantly.
They nodded and gestured to the private corridors.
As her footsteps echoed into the hallway, the two Douluos exchanged a glance.
"She didn't even ask about Spirit Hall and her grandfather," Chrysanthemum Douluo whispered.
"Just her mother."
"Her heart never changed," Ghost Douluo murmured.
"No matter the face she wears."
Supreme Pontiff's new Private Quarters
The chamber was cloaked in soft light, heavy curtains drawn to block the sun.
The Supreme Pontiff—Bibi Dong—lay nestled in the luxurious silk sheets of her private bed.
Her long, elegant body was relaxed for once, hair cascading over her pillow in waves of rose-pink.
Her breathing was steady.
The regal autherity in her was dimmed… but not gone.
Qian Renxue entered silently.
Her footsteps slowed as she approached.
Her mother looked… peaceful.
And somehow, that touched her more than anything.
She sat carefully beside the bed, lifting Bibi Dong's pale hand.
Her mother's skin was still warm.
Still strong.
Still there.
Qian Renxue let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Then, with rare tenderness, she lowered Bibi Dong's hand to her own bosom, pressing it against her heart.
She leaned down and rested her cheek on her mother's shoulder, eyes closing.
She hadn't cried.
Not when she left Spirit Hall.
Not when she lived a lie.
Not even during years of isolation.
But now… she held her mother as if she were a child again.
The silence said everything.
To Be Continued...