Douluo: Infinite Lottery System

But now was not the time to be careless. Xiao Tianyang scanned his surroundings warily before sitting cross-legged on the ground. He unhooked the Bottle from his waist and quietly tipped two drops of green liquid into his mouth. With a deep breath, he began to regulate his breathing.

To absorb the soul ring, Xiao Tianyang needed to be in peak condition. Anything less could lead to disaster. After all, Xiao Tianyang was attempting the impossible—absorbing a thousand-year soul ring as a mere soul scholar!

From a distant tree, Miao Zhenshan observed silently, perched on a branch. He stifled a yawn, muttering to himself, "His combat instincts aren't bad—he knows how to judge the situation. But he's still too reckless. If it weren't for the coincidence of being near that vine-armored dragon turtle, he'd have been in deep trouble."

With his extensive experience, Miao Zhenshan could easily discern what the vine-armored dragon turtle had intended in its final moments. Luck had been Xiao Tianyang's savior; if he had been even a step farther away, he might not have survived unscathed—or at all.

Ten minutes later, Xiao Tianyang opened his eyes, a bright glint flashing across them. In truth, he had already recovered five minutes earlier but had chosen to wait. He was aware of prying eyes and decided to play it safe.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Xiao Tianyang approached the Flame Nightmare, sat cross-legged, and extended his right hand. A tricolored flame flared to life in his palm. Gathering his soul power, he began guiding the purple soul ring to descend gently over his head.

Miao Zhenshan, who had been watching with a calm, detached expression, suddenly stiffened. His eyes widened in disbelief.

"What's this kid doing?" he muttered, his voice tinged with alarm.

As Xiao Tianyang inched closer to the Flame Nightmare, a flash of panic crossed Miao Zhenshan's face.

"Damn it! I forgot to warn him—he's supposed to absorb the 3,000-year vine-armored dragon turtle's ring, not the 7,000-year Flame Nightmare's!"

But it was already too late. Xiao Tianyang had begun the absorption

process.

BOOM!

A violent surge of consciousness erupted in Xiao Tianyang's mind—a ferocious blast of resentment from the Flame Nightmare. The sheer force shattered his consciousness, tearing it apart and unleashing chaos in his thoughts.

"This shouldn't be happening! Isn't this a 2,000-year-old soul beast? Why is its resistance so strong?" Xiao Tianyang questioned bitterly, his thoughts fragmented.

His body screamed with pain, as though thousands of needles were stabbing him at once. He wanted to cry out, but his voice refused to come.

Had he known the truth—that this was a 7,000-year-old Flame Nightmare—he would not have questioned the ordeal. He would have accepted his fate as inevitable.

Just as despair began to set in, a brilliant red flame ignited in Xiao Tianyang's mind.

The mighty Flame Nightmare, moments ago full of rage and defiance, suddenly froze in terror. Its blazing form flickered, and with unmistakable fear, it turned and fled, desperate to escape the red flame's overpowering might.

But it was too late. The Red Lotus Karmic Flame, a fire that burned both soul and karma, erupted with unstoppable might. Did a mere thousand-year soul beast think it could escape its wrath? In an instant—like snow meeting fire—it was obliterated. The beast's resentment dissolved into nothingness, scattered as though it had never existed.

With the greatest threat eliminated, the pure soul power left behind surged forth like a flood bursting through a dam. The overwhelming energy slammed into Xiao Tianyang's body, tearing him apart inch by inch.

His figure resembled a shattered porcelain doll, crumbling under the strain, a sight too agonizing to behold.

Miao Zhenshan, who had landed beside Xiao Tianyang to intervene if necessary, felt a pang of guilt grip his heart.

"This is all my fault," he muttered, his voice heavy with regret. "Not only did I fail to explain things clearly, but I underestimated his limits. No matter how resilient his body may be, how can he possibly endure soul power hundreds of times stronger than what a soul master's body is designed for?"

He clenched his fists, "Boy, this is my mistake. No matter what, you will not die here!"

At that moment, Miao Zhenshan made his decision. His body began to swell with power, his loose robes tightening as a surge of soul energy radiated from him. Each of his soul rings ignited one by one.

Yellow. Purple. Purple. Black. Black. Black. Black. Black. Red.

He was a Nine-Ring Soul Master, Titled Douluo—an existence of unparalleled might!

But Xiao Tianyang was oblivious to the colossal figure standing beside him. He only knew one thing: death was imminent.

In terms of soul power, an ordinary soul master's reserves were like a roadside ditch—narrow, shallow, and prone to drying up. Even with the Nine Suns' Divine Art and the aid of the Zhangtian Bottle, Xiao Tianyang's capacity had only reached the level of a small stream. At best, this was the limit of a spirit grandmaster's potential.

But now? The torrent of soul power pouring into him was like a thousand-meter-high tsunami crashing into a fragile seaside city. There was no defense, no escape.

Muscles, tendons, bones, blood, organs—everything was being twisted and shredded to pieces. That Xiao Tianyang still maintained a semblance of human form was a testament to his extraordinary fortitude. Yet death loomed closer with every passing moment.

Just as despair took hold, a miracle ignited within his collapsing body.

A purple-black flame flared to life, followed by a green flame. The aura of these flames was otherworldly, transcendent. Slowly, Xiao Tianyang's body began to repair itself.

Three Thousand Flames—Undying. The Flame of Life, the Fire of Rebirth!

Outside, the transformation was miraculous. Torn muscles knitted themselves back together. Shredded tendons reconnected. Shattered bones realigned, mended and strengthened. Blood that had dried up was regenerated at its source, and displaced organs were restored to their rightful places, not just repaired but seemingly reborn.

The Nine Suns Divine Art activated on its own, orchestrating the symphony of restoration. Streams of pure soul power, once chaotic and destructive, now flowed in harmony, returning to rebuild his body as though drawn back by instinct, like swallows returning to their nests.

Within just a few breaths, the storm subsided. The earth stilled, the air calmed, and Xiao Tianyang's body emerged whole once more. The danger had passed, and death had been averted.

Beside Xiao Tianyang, Miao Zhenshan, who had been prepared to intervene and personally resolve the dire situation, suddenly froze in his tracks. His face twisted in astonishment, as though he had just seen a ghost.

And perhaps that wasn't far from the truth, for what was unfolding before his eyes defied reason.

Right before him, Xiao Tianyang, who had been teetering on the brink of death moments ago, began to recover at an unbelievable pace. First, the surface of his body healed, followed by his internal injuries, and then his entire being surged with an almost tangible vitality.

The sheer force of this vitality was overwhelming. It radiated from Xiao Tianyang's body in waves so potent that the grass trampled around him sprang upright as if bowing in reverence. Trees nearby swayed, their branches extending skyward as if pulled by an invisible force. Some even grew taller, their leaves flourishing with a vigor that seemed otherworldly.

The atmosphere was electric, but not with malice. Everything around Xiao Tianyang—nature itself—seemed drawn to him with a profound sense of awe and reverence as if approaching a divine being in worship.

But what happened next shattered all expectations.

A wisp of darkness appeared behind Xiao Tianyang, coalescing into an enormous, mysterious portal. Its surface was carved with unfathomable patterns, exuding an aura both ancient and immense. Above the portal, two deep, unblinking eyes opened, gazing down with an almost unbearable intensity.

When those eyes briefly settled on Miao Zhenshan, the seasoned Titled Douluo—an existence of unparalleled strength—was powerless to resist.

His body was flung backward a hundred meters as though struck by an invisible force, and blood spurted from his mouth. The sheer weight of the gaze was enough to crush his will and force him into retreat.

The portal creaked open, just slightly, and the very fabric of the world trembled in response. For an instant, it was as if the heavens and earth paused to bear witness to this impossible event.

Then, just as suddenly as it had opened, the portal shut tight, sealing its secrets away.

But it did not leave without taking something with it. Miao Zhenshan, now pale and trembling, stared blankly into the distance. His memory had been fractured; the events that had just unfolded slipped from his mind like grains of sand through his fingers.

His confusion was evident, his expression vacant, as though he had forgotten the very moment he spat blood and was forced to retreat.

Yet the portal's influence was not confined to this place alone. Across the vast Douluo Continent, powerful beings' eyes opened briefly, gazing into the distance where this phenomenon had occurred. Their expressions were varied—some curious, others wary. But after a moment of contemplation, they closed their eyes once more. 

...

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