Reincarnated in Douluo: A Million‑Year Samsara

The forest air was thick with the scent of moss and tension, the golden hues of the late afternoon sun slicing through dense foliage like quiet blades. Leaves whispered in the breeze, brushing against branches like soft-spoken secrets. In the dappled light, Master Yu Xiaogang stood rigid, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes gleamed with a wild mixture of disbelief and joy as he turned to the young boy beside him.

"Xiao San," he said, voice trembling with awe, "do you see this? Heaven hasn't turned its back on us after all."

Before them lay the enormous body of a serpent—its scales dark as nightshade and ringed with strange violet patterns. The Mandrake Serpent, a soul beast known for its ferocity and venom, twitched faintly, its death throes nearly complete. Judging by its aura and size, it was at least four hundred years old—far beyond what either of them would have hoped to defeat alone.

"We couldn't have brought this beast down ourselves, not even close," Yu Xiaogang muttered, scanning the area with a mix of caution and curiosity. "But someone else already wounded it. And now... well, now it's within reach."

He burst into laughter, his voice echoing through the trees like the call of a man who'd been granted a second chance. "What fortune! What perfect, ridiculous luck! If we ever find out who softened it up for us, we owe them a feast!"

Tang San, ever composed, simply nodded with a quiet smile. His cobalt eyes flickered with gratitude as he stepped forward, pulling a slender dagger from his waist. There was no hesitation in his movement—only a calm purpose. He knelt beside the fading serpent and, with a single practiced stroke, ended its suffering.

A pulse of golden-yellow light shimmered above the beast's remains, coalescing slowly like mist gathering into form. And then, with a soft hum, a soul ring appeared—bright and vibrant, orbiting gently like a halo.

Yu Xiaogang's voice softened. "Begin, Xiao San."

Tang San closed his eyes and exhaled, pushing aside the fatigue threatening to buckle his knees. He raised his right hand, summoning the last vestiges of his soul power. A pale blue glow radiated from his palm, and from that light, the Blue Silver Grass—his spirit—emerged, swaying gently like seaweed in a still current.

As the ring descended, it didn't pause to ask permission. In an instant, it constricted, shrinking into a dense, bracelet-sized loop of golden energy, then locked itself around the very core of Tang San's spirit. The Blue Silver Grass quivered under the sudden infusion of power.

Yu Xiaogang watched it all, eyes brimming with pride, lips twitching with barely restrained excitement. This was more than just a breakthrough—it was vindication.

And yet, as joy surged in him, an old wound reopened. His thoughts drifted to Qian Yu—the man who had once humiliated him, dismissing his theories and tarnishing his name in front of peers and students alike.

He clenched his fists, the knuckles whitening. "Qian Yu," he murmured bitterly. "Once, Xiao San was no match for your disciple. But now... now he's absorbed a four-hundred-year soul ring. The tide has turned."

A slow, almost reverent silence settled as Tang San opened his eyes. The exhaustion was still there, but beneath it flickered the fierce light of achievement.

"Teacher," he said with a tired grin. "It's done. Look."

He raised his hand again, and this time, the Blue Silver Grass burst forth in full bloom. Dozens of vine-like tendrils unfurled, thicker and stronger than ever before, pulsing with a subtle life force. A brilliant yellow ring rose from beneath his feet, circling his body like the glow of a rising sun.

The vines slithered outward, their tips twitching with sentience. They coiled and swayed in eerie unison, each one moving like a serpent hunting for prey.

Yu Xiaogang leaned in, eyes wide with wonder. "Incredible… just as I thought. The Blue Silver Grass has absorbed the essence of the Mandrake Serpent—its resilience, its deadly venom. But what about its skill? What's the soul ability?"

Tang San nodded, eager to share. "First Soul skill—Bind. I can bind enemies with it. Once it wraps around them, it's almost impossible to break free."

The Master's smile widened, almost boyish in its delight. "Perfect. With this, even Qian Yu's disciple might not stand a chance."

Tang San's heart thumped louder at the mention of that name. He had always viewed Qian Yu as a distant summit to climb, a rival cloaked in mystery and power. Until now, their paths had never crossed in true combat.

But now he had this soul ring—this gift of fate—and with it, a tool to rewrite his story.

"Qian Yu," he thought, as a wind stirred the grass around him, "I told you... I will surpass you."

Elsewhere, deep in the Forest…

"Achoo!"

Qian Yu sneezed violently, groaning as he sat up from his bedroll. He rubbed his nose and muttered, "Someone must be talking about me…"

He yawned, stretched, and stepped out of his tent into the moonlit carnage.

Around him, the ground was littered with soul beast corpses—fangs bared, eyes glassy, bodies curled in mid-snarl. The air still reeked of the toxic miasma his Nether Nightshade Spirit had released while he slept. A few soul rings hovered, still fresh from beasts that had died only minutes ago.

One ring—a brilliant violet hue—caught his eye, but he only gave it a cursory glance.

"Only just reached a thousand years," he muttered. "Still too weak."

Qian Yu turned away, making his way deeper into the forest. The souls of ten spirits pulsed within him, most inherited from past lives. Now, he needed only to awaken them, not replace them. Only the newly born Reincarnation Disc needed a fresh ring.

Unlike his more aggressive spirits—the Execution Sword, the War God Spear—the Reincarnation Disc was shrouded in mystery. It didn't radiate power. It whispered it.

Qian Yu frowned. "No need for brute force. A spirit-based soul beast would be better suited."

The trees grew older, taller, as he ventured further. The deeper he went, the quieter the woods became, as if the entire forest were holding its breath. The silence wasn't natural—it was fear.

Even the predators here avoided the heart of the forest. That could only mean one thing.

Then it came—a sound like thunder underwater.

A deep, mournful howl shattered the silence, laced with psychic pressure that slammed into Qian Yu's very mind. His pupils shrank. The echo of the beast's call vibrated through his bones.

But Qian Yu only smiled.

"That cry… it's intelligent. And laced with mental interference."

He turned toward the sound, eyes gleaming.

"You there," he said calmly, voice barely above a whisper. "Come out. Be good and become my soul ring."

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