"Elder Song?"
Zhu Ziyang called out, but there was no response. Elder Song had her head lowered, eyes clouded with complex thoughts, deep in contemplation.
After a moment, she looked up at Zhu Ziyang and asked, "Do you know why I'm telling you all this?"
"Hmm…" Zhu Ziyang was silent for a few seconds, then cautiously said, "Is it because of the Sun and Moon Empire?"
"Haha! Sharp child. Very good," Elder Song laughed heartily. "You're absolutely right—it's because of the Sun and Moon Empire!"
Her smile faded as she continued, "Do you know how many soul masters the Sun and Moon Empire has? Half—they make up half the number of all the soul masters in the Douluo Continent!"
Zhu Ziyang's eyes widened in shock. From what he knew, when the Sun and Moon Empire first collided with the Douluo Continent, they had barely a tenth of the soul masters the Douluo forces had. How had that number grown to half in just 4,000 years? The pace was staggering.
"Unbelievable, right?" Elder Song sneered. "And it gets even more unbelievable. The reason their soul master numbers exploded—was because they adopted a system from our own Douluo Continent!"
"You mean… the Spirit Hall?" Zhu Ziyang's mouth went dry. In that moment, he truly felt the royal families of the three Douluo empires might be better off dead.
"Exactly!" Elder Song's tone grew bitter. "The Spirit Hall! After their first defeat, the Sun and Moon Empire realized their greatest weakness was the lack of soul masters. Their royal family began reforming, and from the now-extinct Spirit Hall—gone for over 6,000 years—they learned a new system: a nationwide martial spirit awakening program. The state took responsibility and offered free awakenings for all citizens. The results were astounding. Their soul master population boomed. High-level masters rose quickly."
Zhu Ziyang said nothing. He had heard of some of these things—but not to this extent.
"And what about the three Douluo empires?" she continued. "Not only are they blind to their shortcomings, their development of soul tools has nearly stalled. They even spend enormous sums buying soul tools from the Sun and Moon Empire. Isn't that just funding the enemy? Worse still, their number of soul masters declines year after year! It's pathetic!
"If not for the Academy, the Sun and Moon Empire might have unified the continent already.
"But those despicable nobles and royals are completely oblivious to the crisis. A thousand years ago, when Yun Tian Douluo tried to implement reforms, they didn't support him. Instead, they banded together to oppose him, causing his plan to fail—and him to die in regret!"
Zhu Ziyang understood. Elder Song was referring to the origins of the Shrek Exclusive Zone. Yun Tian Douluo was the Shrek Academy headmaster at the time.
"If his reforms had succeeded back then, we wouldn't need to be so wary of the Sun and Moon Empire now. Those worms brought this upon themselves!" she added, growing more indignant.
"Ziyang, do you realize? In terms of soul tool research, Shrek Academy and the Royal Soul Engineer Academy of the Sun and Moon Empire aren't far apart—just about 50 years of difference. Except for a few core secrets, our soft power is on par with theirs.
"But in hard power, we're over 200 years behind. The strongest soul engineer we have is just level 8. Meanwhile, they have multiple level 9 engineers, not to mention level 8s. Without high-level engineers, even with blueprints, we can't produce the tools. It's infuriating!"
Zhu Ziyang could only listen. Even his personal library only held blueprints that were a century old—common, widely-used soul tools now. Even if he handed them over, it wouldn't help. Elder Song had already pinpointed the real issue: personnel, not technology.
Besides, Zhu Ziyang had no plans to become a soul engineer. His dual ultimate martial spirits consumed too much of his focus. And becoming a soul engineer required being a soul master first—the higher the rank, the more soul power required to operate high-grade tools.
"If the three eastern empires copied the Sun and Moon Empire's awakening system, or entrusted that task to the Academy, allowing all commoners the chance to awaken their martial spirits, we could rebuild our soul master base to its golden era. With such a huge pool of talent, how could we not produce a few soul engineer geniuses?" she said through clenched teeth, seething with hatred for the nobility.
Zhu Ziyang felt a trace of helplessness—this woman, probably over a hundred years old, was clearly a raging idealist at heart.
"So, Elder Song," he finally asked, unable to hold back, "why are you telling me all this?"
"Haha, little one, you finally cracked," Elder Song chuckled proudly. Then her expression turned serious. "Let me explain."
Zhu Ziyang watched her shift expressions and couldn't help thinking, she really knows how to play dramatic timing.
"I'm telling you this because you are the **only child with exceptional talent I've met who might become the second person capable of changing everything!" Elder Song said—a rather awkward sentence.
But Zhu Ziyang understood.
"No need to guess who the first one was: Elder Mu," she said. "Once, Elder Mu stood above all others. He could've unified the three empires by force. But now… he's old. He no longer has the strength or energy to see it through. But you, Ziyang, are different!
"Your talent surpasses Elder Mu's. You possess ultimate martial spirits. Your achievements will one day surpass his. Once you grow strong, no one on this continent will be able to stop you!"
Hearing this, Zhu Ziyang couldn't help feeling a little light-headed.
"That's why," Elder Song continued, her voice suddenly solemn and even pleading, "when you become the strongest, which I believe is only a matter of time… I hope you will use your power to unify the three Douluo nations. Implement a universal martial spirit awakening system. Let everyone have the chance to awaken. Even if you turn the Academy into a new Spirit Hall—it will be worth it. As long as our continent isn't conquered by outsiders, it's all worth it!"
Her words shook Zhu Ziyang deeply. She had voiced part of what he had been silently thinking. He looked at her. She looked back, eyes aged but full of hope. He felt it—and nodded solemnly.
"Elder Song, all I can say is… it depends on whether fate allows it."
"Good! Good! Good!" Elder Song clapped joyfully. "I knew I wasn't wrong about you! If you ever need anything, come to me—I'll help in any way I can."
"Thank you, Elder Song," Zhu Ziyang replied with genuine appreciation.
"No need to thank me. This is your due," she smiled.
Zhu Ziyang said nothing more.
"Oh, and one last thing. Don't speak of this conversation to anyone but Elder Mu," she warned. "Unless you can protect yourself from a Title Douluo."
"I understand," Zhu Ziyang nodded.
He was fully aware how dangerous this topic was. The aristocrats of the three empires still wielded immense power. The royal families alone had several Title Douluos. His goals essentially meant digging the graves of the empires themselves. No sane ruler would let him go unchecked.
Several more hours passed after their talk, and at last, the glowing cocoon surrounding Jiang Nannan began to stir.
Zhu Ziyang's eyes lit up with eager anticipation.