The spiritual pressure in the meditation room was so thick it felt like physical weight. Han Tianyi, the Heavenly Spirit Douluo, watched the young boy sitting at the Tianyuan position. Behind his calm exterior, a rare surge of envy flickered in the Elder's mind.
With three Limit Douluos as his shield, Qiangu Zhangting was arguably the most powerful "second-generation" noble in the entire history of the Douluo Continent. This wasn't just about talent; it was about the sheer ability to afford failure. If the Extreme Single Soul Spirit path led to a dead end, the Qiangu family had the resources to simply "reset" Zhangting's cultivation. Most geniuses played for their lives; Zhangting was playing a game where he had infinite lives.
"Alright," Han Tianyi's voice cut through the silence, vibrating with psychic authority. "Since the Pagoda Master has gambled on you, you shall study under my wing. But understand this: my path is not for the weak-hearted."
"Thank you, Teacher," Zhangting replied, bowing with a discipline that defied his six years of age.
Internally, Zhangting was finalizing his logic. He hadn't chosen the Evil Eye Tyrant just to be different. In this era, dragon-type bloodlines reigned supreme, suppressing almost every native Spirit Beast on the planet. But the Evil Eye Tyrants were extra-planar—outsiders. They didn't bow to the Dragon God's aura because their soul-code was written in a different dimension.
For a "villain" trying to rewrite his tragic end, choosing an outsider's power was the only logical step.
The Divine Extraction
"Sit," Han Tianyi commanded.
As Zhangting crossed his legs, the world around him dissolved. He wasn't in a room anymore; he was in a vast, emerald-tinted Sea of Spirit. This was the inner world of a Brain-Martial Soul master. Here, Han Tianyi was the Architect, the Creator, and the Judge.
"Formation!"
With a thunderous roar, a massive magic circle ignited beneath Zhangting. The patterns were intricate, glowing with a forbidden light that traced back to the legendary necromancer Electrolux. The Spirit Pagoda had spent centuries refining these circles, and today, they would be used for a surgery of the soul.
"Rotate!"
The formation began to spin with blinding speed. The Thousand-Year Evil Eye Tyrant, suspended in the center, let out a psychic wail that vibrated through Zhangting's very marrow. Its violet body flattened, distorted by centrifugal forces that shouldn't exist in the physical world.
The nine elements—Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Light, Darkness, Space, Lightning, and Time—began to separate like oil from water. They formed a swirling rainbow of raw, chaotic energy around the formation's eye.
"Gold!" Han Tianyi shouted, his mental force acting like a celestial filter.
Eight elements were violently shoved back into the Tyrant's core. But the Gold Element was isolated. It was a streak of pure, metallic brilliance. Under the Elder's control, this energy was channeled directly into Zhangting's Coiling Dragon Rod.
A magnificent purple spirit ring—the hallmark of a thousand-year beast—rose from the floor, encircling Zhangting's small frame. The rod hummed, its explosive weight now imbued with the sharpness of divine metal.
The Birth of "IX"
As the Sea of Spirit faded and the physical world returned, Zhangting opened his eyes. Floating before him was his new partner.
The Evil Eye Tyrant looked different now. It was a massive, singular eye, pulsating with golden light, anchored by two long, rhythmic tentacles. Because it was only a thousand-year-old beast, it lacked the eighty-one tentacles of the legendary Evil Emperor, but its aura was far purer.
The creature's eye reflected a strange, human-like excitement. It realized that by losing one element, its overall talent had skyrocketed. It was now an eight-element body, leaner and more lethal, with its ninth element accessible through its Master's ring.
"I'll call you IX," Zhangting whispered, his voice steady. "An alternative for Nine. But we'll call you 'Iks' for short."
The beast chirped psychically, its tentacles curling around the Coiling Dragon Rod in a gesture of absolute loyalty. Zhangting felt a wave of satisfaction. If this creature had the individual talent to survive the Great Beast Tribulations, it would eventually provide him with all nine rings—the ultimate goal.
The Law of the Creator
"I specifically isolated the Gold attribute for you," Han Tianyi explained, his eyes fixed on the purple ring. "It is the only element that can match the raw, explosive power of your family's inheritance. But listen well, Zhangting."
He stepped closer, his shadow falling over his new disciple.
"The first Spirit Ability is a test of the soul. If your comprehension is divine, your control over the Gold element will be unpredictable—you will be a master of form and sharpness. But if you are lazy, if you are merely a 'genius' in name, you will be nothing more than a child throwing balls of light."
Zhangting stood up, the Coiling Dragon Rod appearing in his hand with a heavy thud. The purple ring glowed with an eerie intensity.
"Teacher is wise," Zhangting said, his eyes flashing with the ambition of a transmigrator. "I didn't come here to learn how to throw energy. I came to learn the laws of the world."
He paused, then added a layer of calculated flattery: "Aim for the best and you get the middle; aim for the middle and you get the worst. To be the best, I must learn from the foremost person in the world."
Han Tianyi let out a dry, knowing laugh. He understood the emphasis on "person." While the Silver Dragon King might be the god of elements, among humans, Han Tianyi stood at the peak.
"Those who learn from me live," the Elder warned, his voice turning cold and sharp. "But those who merely imitate me die. I will not teach you my techniques. I will teach you how to think, how to create, and how to rewrite reality itself. This path will be painful. Your mind will be torn and rebuilt a thousand times before you are ten."
"Let it burn then," Zhangting replied, a dangerous smile spreading across his face. "I wasn't born to follow a script. I was born to burn it."
As the sun set over the Spirit Pagoda, the first step of the "Clown's" revenge was complete. He wasn't just a second-generation villain anymore. He was the disciple of the Brain, the Master of IX, and the future nightmare of Shrek Academy.