46. You Smell Like the City of Slaughter, Sir

It has been four days since Salas took in Zhu Zhuqing, Dai Mubai, and Oscar as his so-called disciples.

In these past few days, everyone—including Yu Xiaogang and Flender—came to know that Salas had taken three more disciples. It could only be said that they had complicated emotions about this. While some were pleased, others were envious.

Particularly Ning Rongrong, who felt like an ant placed over burning coal.

Before, it was only Xiao Wu who constantly sang praises about her master. But now, it was not just Xiao Wu—there were three others constantly talking about "Master this… Master that…" with a worshipful look, almost all the time. She found herself in an awkward situation and couldn't pinpoint exactly what she was feeling about it.

After all, it was she who had shaken her head that night when Zhu Zhuqing and Oscar invited her to come along with them. Even though her princess-like temperament had been tempered quite a bit during the past couple of months under Flender and Shrek, she still couldn't completely let go of the pride that came from having two Titled Douluo grandfathers.

Although what Salas had taught them in the past weeks was new knowledge to her and did leave her impressed, she thought that if she went and asked her father or either of her grandfathers, they would have taught her the same.

Because of this belief, she—who was usually meticulous and calculating when it came to securing advantages—didn't realize that if she had become Salas's disciple, she could have also brought another Titled Douluo to the side of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.

Which would have benefitted her sect tremendously.

On the other hand, during the past four days, the three new disciples had been filling their gaps in knowledge with the help of their senior sister, Xiao Wu, learning everything that Salas had taught her since the day she became his disciple.

Only then did they realize that what Salas had publicly shared with them was merely the tip of the iceberg. The things Xiao Wu knew were the real deal. Now that Salas had allowed Xiao Wu to share all the secret knowledge with them, they felt as if they were in a state of euphoria.

But how could they have known? Even what Salas taught Xiao Wu was essentially useless knowledge in terms of directly increasing their strength. It only served to broaden their horizons and reinforce the impression that Salas was a profound and wise figure. What Spirit Evolution Theory and whatnot? These were things that they couldn't even apply practically, even if they understood the theory. Not to mention, Salas often withheld several crucial points when sharing such knowledge.

But to these ignorant kids, everything Salas said seemed like a novel revelation.

This world actually has million-year-old soul beasts? Woah, so impressive.

What? This world has gods too? Woah, cool. What? There's also innate soul power levels higher than 10?

Such knowledge only helped broaden their perspectives; it didn't help improve their actual strength or provide anything of practical value like whale glue knowledge.

Seeing these ignorant children being led astray by some impressive-sounding ideas, Salas simply smiled calmly.

---

Late at night.

The soft rustle of wind moved gently through the forest beside Shrek Academy, stirring the night air like a whisper shared between ancient trees.

Tang Hao stood silently in the darkness.

Clad in a thick black cloak, his face hidden beneath the folds of time and shadow, he kept his back against an old pine tree. In the distance, beyond the academy's courtyard walls, he could just barely make out the faint outline of his son moving back into the dormitory after spending his entire day forging something.

For a brief moment, Tang Hao's clenched fist relaxed.

Even after all these years, he couldn't explain this strange warmth that surged up in him whenever he saw Tang San. That boy—his son—was growing stronger. Strong enough to stand alone someday.

And yet… not today.

Tang Hao's breathing slowed. The wounds in his body had worsened over the past few weeks since he went on a rampage searching for his wife's thief, fighting many and scouring countless places. In his current condition, he could barely circulate his soul power, and there were moments when his vision blurred without warning.

Still, he couldn't find a single clue about who the person behind it was. He wanted to chalk up his wife's disappearance and the missing soul bone to coincidence. But he was no fool. He could clearly tell that the person who came was powerful and had most likely arrived with full knowledge of what lay there. After all, the waterfall he had chosen was extremely well-hidden, not to mention the secret compartment.

But where to search? Who to threaten? He had no clue. So he could only focus on the most probable enemies—people from Spirit Hall.

But the small Spirit Hall branch in Notting City lacked any real power and couldn't give him the answers he needed. So after destroying them, he moved on to the next higher branch. But the higher the level of the branch, the more difficult it became to confront and question them without attracting attention.

And so, here he was now—his injuries relapsed due to overuse of soul power. In addition to the pain of losing his wife, there was now the physical torment as well.

Still, he endured. He always had.

He cast one last glance toward the academy buildings and was about to turn away when a voice—calm and unhurried—drifted through the air.

"You've been watching for quite a while now."

Tang Hao stiffened.

There was no soul power fluctuation—none that he could detect. No aura of killing intent, no sound of footsteps, no warning. Just the voice. Measured. Gentle.

But it did not belong here.

He turned slightly, instinctively lowering his stance in caution, only to see a man in white robes embroidered with faint golden patterns, hands clasped behind his back, standing beside a smooth stone under the moonlight. The man appeared no older than thirty, with fine gold-white hair tied loosely behind his shoulders and golden eyes like still water—eyes that neither judged nor questioned.

Tang Hao narrowed his gaze. He didn't summon his martial soul—not because he wasn't on guard, but because he didn't want to expose his identity. But he grew incredibly vigilant the next moment. The man in front of him was undoubtedly a Titled Douluo.

Which could only mean… Xiao Wu's identity had likely been exposed.

Salas approached with calm, unhurried footsteps and halted a short distance away, his eyes scanning the cloaked man with mild curiosity, yet without fear.

"I sensed a familiar scent… the smell of blood and killing," Salas said softly. "You must have been to the City of Slaughter, right?"

Tang Hao stood there silently, nerves taut. He subtly glanced in the direction of Tang San's dormitory… ready to flee with Xiao Wu and Tang San at a moment's notice.

Then, in the next instant, with a silent ripple, the world around them shifted.

It was faint at first—barely noticeable. A soft breeze that didn't stir the leaves. A sensation behind the eyes, as if standing inside a thought that wasn't your own. Tang Hao blinked once, and it felt as though a quiet curtain had settled over the space they stood in. The forest grew still. Even the moonlight seemed farther away.

Spiritual Domain.

Tang Hao's expression remained composed, but inwardly, he felt helpless.

He could sense it… The moment the person in front of him released his spiritual power, it spread out like a domain, suppressing his own mental strength.

It was just as he had heard about his grandfather Tang Chen's ability.

The only people he had ever known who could transform their spiritual power into a domain were those who had reached level 99.

And right now, he could clearly feel it—his own spiritual power was being suppressed by at least fifty percent.

Today, he might not be able to leave peacefully.

Salas smiled faintly and placed one hand behind his back.

"There is no malice in me, uh… senior. Only curiosity."

Tang Hao's voice was low as he opened his mouth, speaking with caution.

"Curiosity about what?"

"About the choices people make," Salas replied. "You're injured, yet you travel at night. You approach the academy but never step inside. You wear a cloak, yet you seem to want to be noticed. Your actions truly intrigue me."