So then, which Titled Douluo was Huo Yuhao assigning to the First New Army?
Assigning a Titled Douluo as a military escort was no easy feat. Assigning one to a modernized army composed almost entirely of ordinary people? That sounded like a fairytale.
But that only applied to normal Titled Douluo. At Huo Yuhao's side, there happened to be one very special Titled Douluo—Fire Lion Douluo.
As everyone knew, Fire Lion Douluo always acted a little… simple. He gave off the impression of someone not too sharp. He even revered Huo Yuhao, who had far less cultivation than him, as his senior brother. All because of one thing: Huo Yuhao had promised to help him break through to Super Douluo. Since then, Fire Lion Douluo had shown complete trust in him.
So when Huo Yuhao approached him, casually cultivating away his time in Mingdu, and asked if he would accompany the First New Army as its escort, Fire Lion Douluo didn't hesitate. He agreed on the spot.
With the Fire Lion Douluo by their side, Huo Yuhao no longer worried about the First Army being annihilated in the face of a high-level assault. With zero exaggeration, a Titled Douluo alone was enough to shield a force of ten thousand ordinary troops from any assault by enemies below the Titled Douluo level.
Of course, Fire Lion Douluo's purpose as a military escort was strictly for emergencies—he could only intervene if the enemy broke the rules and sent Soul Douluo or stronger against them.
As such, Fire Lion Douluo's presence didn't increase the First Army's combat power per se. In Douluo warfare, major powers rarely deployed top-tier combatants to the frontlines unless it was a matter of life and death, of survival or destruction.
"Commander Wang Lin, you'll meet him soon," Huo Yuhao said with a grin. "Don't worry, he's easy to work with."
Leaving Wang Lin stunned and blinking in disbelief, Huo Yuhao turned and departed, his heart at ease. With this, he could confidently deploy the First Army whenever needed—and win glory.
Meanwhile, Zhao Yuan had arrived in Mingdu.
Escorted by the Education Reform Taskforce, he and six other elite learners boarded the latest soul bus model. They sped along paved roads at speeds far exceeding what horse-drawn carriages could imagine, arriving swiftly in the imperial capital.
All along the way, Zhao Yuan marveled once again at the wonders of modern soul tool technology. A giant steel box that could carry dozens, maybe hundreds of people—moving faster than any horse? This was the future.
And he was living it.
The realization struck Zhao Yuan with newfound clarity. This era belonged to those who grasped soul tool knowledge. As an ordinary man at the edge of this great change, as long as he kept pushing forward, his potential was limitless. He had to work harder. He had to learn more.
He was also burning with anticipation. He was about to meet the great man known as the Chief Designer—the visionary who had orchestrated this sweeping transformation.
Although he'd heard stories of Mingdu's magnificence, seeing it with his own eyes was something else entirely. Towering skyscrapers came into view as the soul bus approached the city, and as they entered the urban district, Zhao Yuan stared, wide-eyed and dazed.
'Where am I? Who am I? What am I doing here?'
The phrase "a country bumpkin entering the imperial garden" barely did him justice. He felt like a child from a remote mountain village on Earth, stepping into a hyper-modern city of glass and steel for the first time.
A mix of awe, envy, and a touch of inferiority swelled in Zhao Yuan's chest. Compared to these Mingdu citizens, his life as a rural farmer felt like something from another world—crude, disconnected, and hopelessly behind. The gap felt like a chasm.
But that feeling of inferiority didn't discourage him. In fact, it lit a fire in his heart.
He no longer merely dreamed of rising above his old life. Now he dreamed of helping others do the same—of lifting up farmers like himself, who had once accepted quiet suffering as their fate.
The Chief Designer had said, "Technology is the primary productive force."
And now, Zhao Yuan understood the truth of those words on a deeper level.
"Mingdu… here I come."
He stared out the window at the bustling city streets, silently making that vow.
---
"Outrageous. Absolutely outrageous!"
In the Royal Sun Moon Soul Engineering Academy's Boardroom, voices echoed through a grand, marble-floored hall.
Though Mirror Hongchen, the Academy's headmaster, held full administrative power, the Academy also operated under the oversight of a Board of Directors—composed of nobles, royal family affiliates, and representatives of the major soul engineer clans within Mingdu.
The Board, though not involved in daily academic affairs, held influence in financial matters and high-level decisions. In return for their continued investment in the school and the connections they brought, Mirror Hongchen had little choice but to tolerate their involvement.
Today, the board's meeting room—an opulent chamber dripping with wealth and tradition—was filled with these influential figures.
And at its center, a senior elder from a prestigious soul engineer family slammed the table, red-faced with fury.
He was one of the board's most respected voices, and his outburst sent the room into silence.
Everyone knew what had triggered his wrath.
The Education Reform was now making waves across the empire. In Mingdu especially, it had become the topic of heated debate, threatening to overturn long-standing hierarchies. Nobles and old soul engineer clans were uneasy—many were outright hostile.
But this latest development? This was too much.
Word had spread that certain "outstanding" students—ordinary people with no soul power—were going to be admitted to the Royal Academy itself.
The Royal Soul Engineering Academy!?
To the board members, this was blasphemy.
Letting these peasants operate soul tools was already stretching things. But allowing them to study alongside the noble heirs of soul engineer clans? That was a slap in the face. A complete erasure of what made them superior.
To them, this wasn't just breaking tradition—it was crossing a sacred line.
And so, the elder's fury was not just understandable—it was inevitable.
(End of Chapter)
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