DD Black White [381-382] (Patreon)

Chapter 381: The Continental Situation

Inside the private room, four figures were already waiting—Changli, Jinhsi, Keqing, and Ningguang.

Although Lu Jingming was nominally the lord of Haiyuan City, the ones who actually handled day-to-day operations, strategic planning, and all manner of affairs were the four highly capable women before her.

The arrival of Wu Ming and the other Shrek remnants, as well as their meeting with Zhang Lexuan, had naturally been brought to their attention at once.

Seeing Zhang Lexuan enter, Keqing spoke first. Her elegant brows knit slightly as she tapped her fingertip lightly against the table to show her concern:

 "Lexuan, we know everything already. Taking these students in and helping rebuild Shrek Academy can certainly let us quickly absorb its legacy and reputation. But Shrek has a ten-thousand-year inheritance—its internal views are tangled and deep-rooted, its thinking long since ossified. They place great weight on so-called independence and honor."

"I worry that even if we help them rebuild, actually getting them to integrate into Haiyuan City's system, to forget or set down their former glory and convictions, won't be easy. Sooner or later, complications will arise."

Her concern came from an understanding of the inertia of old powers: if you plan ahead, you stand; if not, you fail.

Before Zhang Lexuan could respond, Ningguang walked slowly to the huge floor-to-ceiling window. Her gaze seemed to pierce the structure itself, landing precisely in the direction of Xiao Xiao, Wu Ming, and the others.

She wore a faint, worldly-wise smile, her voice pleasant and steady:

 "Keqing's concern is reasonable. If this were in the past—facing a complete, intact Shrek Academy—that would indeed be nearly impossible. But times have changed."

She paused, then continued.

"The crux isn't the abstract concept of Shrek Academy, but who is concretely representing it."

"Right now, the older generation—Xuan Zi and the rest—are missing or presumed dead. Yan Shaozhe and other pillars have fallen. What's left is a group of youths who have suddenly lost their support—homeless, bereaved of their teachers, and filled with confusion and helplessness about the future."

"Their needs are very basic at this moment—survival, safety, and a place where they can still pin the name of Shrek."

Lounging lazily on a soft couch, Changli let out a light laugh and picked up the thread:

 "Ningguang is right. A group of students—the oldest barely in their early twenties—who previously only needed to focus on cultivation… however gifted they are, how much could they really understand about winning hearts, running a force, and long-term planning?"

"What they need most now is a lifeline, a guide who can lead them out of their predicament. And we happen to be able to provide all of that."

Her tone carried the composure born of a disparity in strength—not contempt, but a clear-eyed assessment.

Jinhsi's gaze swept over everyone present and finally settled on Zhang Lexuan. Her voice was crisp and pleasant.

"No need to worry too much. Shrek's glory is already in the past. In the future, it will become, like St. Freya Academy, a soul master academy under Haiyuan City—training talent for us and contributing the value it should."

"Even at its peak, Haiyuan City's current strength and foundation would be enough to handle it—let alone now."

She paused, her tone gaining a sharp edge.

"If we can't even integrate a leaderless group and guide a bunch of lost young people, wouldn't that make us seem utterly incompetent? How would we be worthy of Xiao Ming's trust—how could we protect and strengthen this city?"

Jinhsi's words made Ningguang and Keqing's expressions grow solemn. Lu Jingming trusted them so completely that he had handed over all military and civil authority. How could they betray that trust?

They all understood this was in line with Lu Jingming's temperament—he preferred to be a hands-off boss—but that didn't stop them from answering that trust.

Jinhsi's stance represented the consensus of the core decision-makers present.

This was not only a chance to absorb external resources, but also a test of their own ability and finesse.

After listening to her sisters, Zhang Lexuan nodded slightly, a flash of wisdom in her eyes.

The work ahead wasn't merely a matter of providing space and resources; they would also need to subtly guide Wu Ming and the others, so that from the moment the new Shrek was reborn, it would bear Haiyuan City's imprint.

It would require a delicate hand—patience, wisdom, and just the right display of strength.

"All right, we've settled the matter of rebuilding Shrek for now. The follow-up details can be handled by the teams below."

Changli tapped the glossy tabletop lightly, drawing everyone's attention back. Her voice grew steady, with a hint of gravity.

"Next, we must seriously discuss the imminent threat—the Sun–Moon Empire's movements."

The room's atmosphere shifted instantly from internal integration to external strategic assessment.

Everyone knew that peace on the continent was hanging by a thread.

"We've essentially grasped the situation through Simulated Universe and our intelligence networks."

Changli continued, her fingertip unconsciously tracing on the tabletop.

"Though the Holy Grail War in Mingdu ended unexpectedly due to the opening of time-space channels, its aftermath is far from over. Most crucially, not all the summoned Servants have exited the stage—especially those two Lord Ravager. They're still entrenched within the Sun–Moon Empire."

"Their anti-matter legions, though decimated in that final earth-shattering explosion—less than a tenth remaining—still can't be underestimated. More importantly, the Sun–Moon Empire's soul tool technology and military foundation weren't fundamentally damaged by Mingdu's destruction."

Keqing folded her arms and leaned by the window, amethyst eyes flickering with calm light. Her signature twin ponytails swayed slightly as she shook her head.

"That move of Xu Tiannan's—manipulating public opinion—was ruthless. He perfectly shifted the blood-deep hatred for Mingdu's destruction onto Shrek Academy and the three empires."

"Now within the Sun–Moon Empire, the outcry for revenge has become a prairie fire. Even if a few remain clear-headed, in the tide of ignorance and national grief, their voices are faint—forced to drift with the current."

Zhang Lexuan sighed, a hint of helplessness on her face.

"Even if some know part of the truth, who would believe them? Who would accept that the root cause of Mingdu's fall, the symbol of imperial glory, originated within the empire's own top brass? That truth is too unbelievable."

Ningguang nodded in agreement. She walked to the liquor cabinet and poured herself a small glass of amber liquid, eyes deep.

"Exactly. At this moment, the truth has lost its significance. The Sun–Moon Empire's propaganda machine has seized the moral high ground—or rather, the high ground of tragedy."

"The people, enraged by their immense losses and official guidance, are saturated with talk of war and revenge—every city, every corner. In this collective mood, there's almost no room left for rational thought."

Jinhsi shifted her gaze from the others and looked out the window again.

The evening glow stained the sky orange, yet an oppressive sense of a coming storm hung in the air.

Her voice was soft but carried clearly to everyone.

"Taken together, a full-scale war is inevitable. But it won't break out overnight. I think the timeline will be pushed back by a year or two."

"I agree with Jinhsi."

Changli picked up, analyzing calmly.

"First is reconstruction. Rebuilding a capital that's been completely destroyed—especially a metropolis like Mingdu—won't be easy. Even with the continent's top soul tool tech and massive resource mobilization, it's hard to finish in less than a year. Even if they simply refit and elevate the current New Mingdu as the capital, it'll still take time."

"Second, Xu Tiannan has only just ascended the throne. His position is stable, but he still needs time to integrate and placate all factions internally, to fully consolidate power. All of that takes time."

Keqing walked to the center of the room, projecting a light-formed map of the Douluo Continent.

Pointing at the clearly marked spheres of influence on the map, she coolly presented the Simulated Universe big-data analysis:

"Once internal integration and war preparations are complete, we can almost foresee where the Sun–Moon Empire's spearhead will point. Based on comparative analysis—conventional forces, number of soul masters, top-end combat power—the conclusion is: barring major external variables, the three-kingdom alliance of the original Douluo side will struggle to resist the Sun–Moon Empire's full offensive."

Ningguang swirled her glass lightly, adding in a voice tinged with a faint, distant quality:

 "Among the simulated invasion routes, the highest-probability plan is that the Sun–Moon Empire concentrates superior forces and uses the Heavenly Soul Empire as the primary breakthrough. Once that line is torn open, they can drive straight in, directly threatening the Star Luo Empire's heartland while forming a strategic pincer on the Dou Ling Empire. Heavenly Soul will be the first dike to take the brunt of the storm."

"War…"

Jinhsi sighed softly, a trace of pity in her eyes.

"In the end, many people will die."

But she quickly reined in her feelings, knowing this was the inevitable eruption of long-standing grudges and a shift in power—a general trend beyond human reversal.

The Simulated Universe projections also showed that only after this bout of pain would the continent welcome a new order and new brilliance.

Keqing pulled the topic back to practicalities.

"So, Haiyuan City must also prepare ahead. The Fatui, the Nightwatch, the Golden Guards, and the Molten Knights—all need a new round of expansion and training for the war to come. After all, we know what Xiao Ming intends to do."

"The expansion can start immediately. Overall, time is still on our side."

Changli nodded.

"With Haiyuan City's current strength and resources, we have enough time to expand and turn that into fighting capability. Even as we are now, our forces are sufficient to ensure Xiao Ming's plan proceeds."

At the mention of the Molten Knights, Changli wore a wry smile.

"However, we might hit a snag with their expansion. That little Firefly girl ran off with Xiao Ming to that parallel world. She's the soul and core of the Knights—without her in person, it's not ideal to expand them."

Her tone carried a helplessness about Lu Jingming indulging Firefly, yet there was also a barely noticeable fondness.

"Xiao Ming as well—he knows the Knights need her, yet still let her tag along. Fortunately, at this stage, their current size is enough to handle any likely battles."

Hearing this, Keqing couldn't help rolling her eyes before adding:

 "When has he ever been different with us? No matter how thorough the plan or grand the blueprint, if we think something's off—or just act a little spoiled—he'll revise or even scrap it without hesitation. Sometimes I don't know whether to say he lacks principles, or…"

She didn't finish, but the meaning was obvious. Lu Jingming's regard for those around him had long exceeded ordinary bounds.

Jinhsi, Ningguang, and the others exchanged glances, warm smiles unconsciously blooming at their lips.

Wasn't it precisely because of Lu Jingming's almost obsessive cherishing that they had gradually lowered their guard and willingly gathered at his side?

Even knowing he held more than one person in his heart, that unique care—placing them at the highest priority—was enough for them to accept one another and build this special home of Haiyuan City together.

…

Deep within Haiyuan City, in the The Herta's private lab.

The scene here was utterly distinct from the mainstream soul tool aesthetic of the Douluo Continent: minimalist, cool-toned metal walls with a matte sheen; numerous precision devices of strange design hummed in living silence, indicator lights blinking in steady hues of ghostly blue and pale green—altogether a vision of the future.

The air carried the clean scent of specially formulated energy fluids and a faint hint of high-efficiency sanitizer, embodying the pursuit of cleanliness and precision.

At the lab's core stood a giant cylindrical transparent incubation pod, filled with pale-green life-support fluid like the finest dissolved jade, slowly circulating.

Shangguan Weier floated within, eyes closed, her beautiful face subtly contorted by pain.

At her brow, a dark violet, fissure-like brand throbbed faintly, exuding a heart-palpitating aura of destruction—one that aimed to end all things.

The Herta herself stood before the pod, arms folded.

She wore her signature, exquisitely tailored witch-like dress, forming a strong yet unexpectedly harmonious contrast with the hyper-rational high-tech environment around her.

There was no obvious emotion on her face—more the focus and fastidiousness of a top connoisseur appraising a rare oddity.

"So this is the brand left by Phantylia?"

Her voice carried a barely perceptible hint of interest, like discovering a new toy, but mostly a lofty, evaluative tone.

"The energy structure is interesting—brimming with pure destructive intent, not the usual path of crude damage. It directly targets the source of life and the soul's imprint, corroding and converting… Mm. A somewhat creative way to break things."

Her appraisal was calm to the point of coldness, as if Shangguan Weier's life and death weren't primary; the destructive brand itself was the phenomenon worth attention.

Chapter 382: Ruan Mei

At that moment, the lab's automatic doors slid open soundlessly, and a graceful silhouette entered.

She wore an ink-toned variant qipao; the slit at the hem hinted at elegant lines. A sheer black shawl added a veil of mystery.

Her hair was lightly coiled and fixed with a delicate golden plum-blossom hairpin. The shoulder cutouts were adorned with tassels; gloves, bracelets, thigh rings, even the adornment at her waist—all echoed the plum motif. Every detail revealed distinct taste.

Her temperament was gentle and poised, like a lady stepping out from an ancient painting. Yet in those deep eyes flowed boundless curiosity and wisdom about the laws governing all things.

She was none other than the Genius Society's Member #81—Ruan Mei—whom Lu Jingming had manifested here by the power of Reality.

"The Herta."

Ruan Mei's voice was soft as water. She walked lightly to the incubation pod, her gaze drawn at once to the brand at Shangguan Weier's brow.

"So this is the lady who needs help? Mm… The makeup of this wound is very interesting."

Her "interesting" was not the same as The Herta's "kind of neat."

In Ruan Mei's eyes flashed the pure, fervent light of a researcher beholding a rare specimen—the instinctive desire to probe unknown life forms and abnormal states.

"Ruan Mei, you're here."

The Herta glanced sideways at her, speaking as casually as greeting a frequent collaborator.

"I'm leaving it to you. This kind of work that needs patience and delicate manipulation in the life domain suits you better. I've never had the patience for such embroidery-level finesse."

She made no attempt to hide her disinterest in fields she found tedious, matter-of-factly handing the task to the expert.

Ruan Mei nodded slightly, long accustomed to The Herta's directness.

She extended slender, gloved fingers. At her fingertips coiled nearly invisible filaments woven of pure life energy. They reached toward the pod wall—not touching directly—sensing in detail the destructive brand's energy fluctuations and inner rules through the specialized material.

"It truly is a non-typical contamination."

Ruan Mei closed her eyes, focusing for a moment, and spoke in a voice like savoring an intricately layered pastry.

"It's not a crude smash-and-burn, but more of a… forced directional distortion—driving orderly life force and soul structure toward a pure anti-life configuration. The one who left this brand has a unique take on the concept of annihilation."

"How could it not be unique?"

The Herta curled her lip.

"It was left by Phantylia herself. Among the Lord Ravager, aside from Nanook, there aren't many in the cosmos who surpass her understanding of destruction."

Ruan Mei opened her eyes and looked to The Herta, making a request consistent with her researcher's nature.

"Before treatment, may I conduct a deeper analysis of this lady's current state? I'm very interested in the interaction mechanisms between this foreign energy and local life forms."

Even when faced with a patient, Ruan Mei's genius instinct to explore the unknown took precedence—she wouldn't pass up any chance to gain new knowledge.

"Do as you like."

The Herta waved dismissively.

"She's not that important to me, nor is she an irreplaceable core for Xiao Ming. But…"

Her tone shifted—still flat, but with a hint of reminder.

"Take it easy. Don't actually erase her."

That said, The Herta wasn't truly worried.

She knew Ruan Mei's capabilities. Unless done on purpose, with Ruan Mei's attainment in the life domain, a research probe could never cause irreversible harm.

The Herta was, in essence, a typical hard mouth with a soft heart. She would never sit by and watch a life vanish in her lab due to nonessential research.

Ruan Mei smiled faintly and said no more.

Just as she understood The Herta, The Herta also trusted her sense of proportion.

Ruan Mei focused, her hands beginning to dance elegantly in the void, as if playing an invisible, priceless guqin.

Countless life-energy filaments finer than hair flowed from her fingertips like sentient serpents, passing through the pod wall and, with astounding precision, carefully peeling away and neutralizing the brand that clung like bone-deep gangrene.

The entire process unfolded like a consummate micro-scale work of art, imbued with an ineffable rhythm.

Rather than a medical rescue, it felt as though Ruan Mei was completing a life micro-sculpture—or deconstructing a complex life equation on existence and endings.

From time to time, Ruan Mei paused to murmur—analysis tinged with admiration for the unknown:

"The life forms of this world—especially these individuals called soul masters—exhibit a very unique and tight coupling between life energy and soul…"

"The soul power system… a path that digs inward into one's bloodline potential? Different road, same destination as Pathstriders or technologically augmented subjects, but this route seems more… primeval. Quite unique."

"Mm, the way this destructive brand entangles with the core of soul power—especially the so-called martial spirit origin… The conflict and adaptation here are worth a thorough record."

These whispers fully displayed the traits of a Genius Society member.

No matter the strange environment or the unknown beyond common sense, she could quickly immerse, find inner regularities, and uncover depths worth exploring.

The treatment lasted a good while.

When Ruan Mei finally expelled the last stubborn trace of annihilation from the source of Shangguan Weier's soul, she exhaled softly.

Because Lu Jingming had expended a large amount of Reality power manifesting Acheron, Ruan Mei's power level upon summoning wasn't at its peak. This delicate operation had consumed her considerable effort.

Now, the terrifying brand at Shangguan Weier's brow was gone. Her face smoothed, breathing even—like she had just fallen into a deep sleep.

"It's done."

Ruan Mei withdrew the invisible life threads, her tone as gentle and calm as ever.

"Efficient."

The Herta glanced at the life-monitoring instruments as all metrics returned to normal and gave her verdict.

"Looks like it was worth the breath I spent persuading Xiao Ming to summon you. Otherwise, given his… mm, subconscious wariness of you, you wouldn't have gotten the chance to visit this interesting world."

"He's wary of me, yet seems to trust you more. That is rather troubling."

Ruan Mei knit her lovely brows slightly, tapping her lower lip with her index finger—mildly perplexed.

Compared to The Herta—eccentric but relatively predictable—Ruan Mei knew her own thinking and research interests could be more unsettling. Not being fully trusted was within expectations.

But Lu Jingming was different. He was wrapped in far too many unknowns that Ruan Mei longed to study. She was seriously considering how to build a more harmonious and in-depth rapport with this young summoner.

"Don't worry."

The Herta busied herself with another instrument, unconcerned.

"Since he ultimately agreed to summon you, that already represents an initial trust. Aren't you quite adept at interacting with people under that gentle, harmless veneer? Besides, from what I've observed, your intellectual, mysterious type is highly likely on his preference list."

She knew Lu Jingming's personality and tastes like the back of her hand.

Ruan Mei's frown slowly eased.

Indeed, she was good at communication—she just disliked the meaningless kind.

But if the other party was Lu Jingming, she was willing to invest the patience and finesse.

For now, though, something else drew her interest more.

"The Herta."

Ruan Mei looked to the lab's central giant data screen, eyes alight with the glow of inquiry.

"May I access more data on this world—especially detailed research on martial spirits, soul rings, and soul beasts, these unique life forms—with my current permissions?"

For a genius devoted to the origins, evolution, and mysteries of life, the Douluo world—with its unusual power system and biosphere—was a newly discovered secret realm overflowing with treasures.

In her original world, she had researched most life in the cosmos, which led her to set her sights on Aeons.

But this other world's life was entirely unknown to her—fascinating enough to warrant serious attention, even if it didn't eclipse her desire regarding Aeons.

Especially Lu Jingming himself—more enticing than an Aeon—for the power to render the unreal real was far too special.

By manifesting her here, Lu Jingming had effectively opened a door to an unprecedented field of research.

The Herta lifted a brow, unsurprised that Ruan Mei slipped into work mode so quickly.

"I've given you advanced access to the databanks. Browse at will. Only one requirement."

She pointed around the immaculate lab.

"Don't leave this place looking like it was looted by an anti-matter legion."

With that, she ignored Ruan Mei and immersed herself in another project—as if everything just now was a minor interlude.

Ruan Mei walked to the giant display, tapped lightly, and pulled up the massive corpus Haiyuan City had collected on Douluo lifeforms.

She devoured it eagerly, a satisfied, expectant smile rising at the corner of her lips.

To her, this unexpected journey to another world had unveiled its most captivating prelude—the opening to a marvelous research feast had just begun.

The Sun–Moon Empire's manifesto pinning the blood-debt of Mingdu's annihilation onto Shrek Academy and the three empires was like tossing a spark into boiling oil—it instantly ignited long-accumulated contradictions and fear across the continent.

The smell of war—like suffocating iron and rust—filled every inch of air.

Within the three kingdoms of the original Douluo side, a stifling mood of anxiety and powerlessness spread from top to bottom.

The top brass of the Star Luo Empire, Heavenly Soul Empire, and Dou Ling Empire had considered a preemptive strike—hit while New Mingdu wasn't steady and before internal consolidation.

But that seductive thought was quickly crushed by harsh reality.

First, they were on the back foot morally.

The Sun–Moon Empire had successfully cast itself as a tragic victim. If the three attacked first, they'd be branded the aggressors—inciting the already united and enraged Sun–Moon populace, and falling into a disastrous position in public opinion.

Second—and more crucial—was military fear.

The Sun–Moon Empire's vast soul engineer corps remained intact, and its border defenses were still ironclad.

More terrifying was the presence of those two Lord Ravager and the remnants of the anti-matter legions—like a sword of Damocles hanging overhead.

If they attacked rashly and got bogged down or suffered a counterstrike by top-end enemies, the consequences would be unthinkable.

Thus, the three empires adopted the most conservative—and most helpless—strategy: full mobilization and passive defense.

Their rulers issued top-level mobilization orders. Along the borders, fortress after fortress was reinforced, soul tool barriers were activated, and endless grain, arms, and rare metals streamed to the front.

Young soul masters were conscripted and put through harsh training. The air reeked of sweat, steel, and unease.

In the cities, war dominated every teahouse and tavern conversation. Prices wobbled—especially strategic materials, which soared. Panic about the coming storm quietly spread among the common folk.

All they could do was fortify the border lines as best they could—and wait, hearts clenched, for the storm to roll in from the Sun–Moon Empire.

In sharp contrast to the three empires' tense confusion was the Sun–Moon Empire's near-fanatical yet orderly war prep.

The new emperor, Xu Tiannan, used an iron hand and the banner of avenging the empire to swiftly calm any internal unrest triggered by Mingdu's fall and the succession.

The war machine roared to life with unprecedented efficiency.

Refitted New Mingdu, as the new political and military center, worked day and night.

Vast resources were funneled to the military. Soul tool factories blazed with lights through the night, assembly lines churning out the newest fixed-mounted soul cannon shells and personal soul tools.

Spurred by fervent propaganda of revenge, youths enlisted en masse. New recruit camps overflowed. The espionage networks embedded in the three empires fully activated, sending back constant reports on troop deployments and logistics.

Xu Tiannan and his aides clearly understood that sharpening the blade doesn't delay the chopping of wood.

They weren't eager to march east immediately. Instead, they used this precious time to digest internal issues, consolidate power, and channel the grief and rage from Mingdu's destruction into purer war potential.