On the western border of the Star Luo Empire lay Black Tiger City, a fortress-like settlement where cultures clashed and blended. Its streets were always bustling—merchants from the Heaven Dou Empire hawked fine silks and tea, while Star Luo traders displayed blades, armor, and medicinal herbs. Inns bore dual signs, one in the elegant script of Heaven Dou and the other in the bold, straight strokes of Star Luo. Even the food reflected this fusion—dumplings with fiery spice beside delicate Heaven Dou pastries, a strange but harmonious mixture that mirrored the people themselves.
The air here was thick with vigilance. Soldiers patrolled the walls with sharp gazes, their uniforms cut in severe lines, swords polished to a cold gleam. In Heaven Dou’s border cities, the guards often slouched, bribed for leniency, but here the discipline was ironclad. The people lived under martial order, and strength dictated respect.
The Star Luo Empire itself was built on that very principle. Unlike the Heaven Dou Empire, where nobles schemed in backrooms and alliances of aristocrats could hinder even the emperor, the Star Luo throne stood unquestioned. Here, it was not lineage or titles that ruled, it was martial might. The king was the strongest of them all, and thus his word was law.
What made every Emperor of the Star Luo Empire even more fearsome was the martial soul fusion he shared with his queen. When united, they summoned the terrifying Hell White Tiger, a being of overwhelming ferocity, whose might could rival even a Super Douluo.
(Author’s Note: In the era of Douluo Dalu 1, Super Douluo were not as common as cabbages, unlike in later generations.)
It was precisely this power and unity that gave Star Luo its edge. Yet, despite its militaristic strength, the empire had not swallowed the weakened Heaven Dou whole. The reason was simple—Spirit Hall. Situated between the two empires, Spirit Hall was more than just a a balancing force, it was a mediator that neither empire dared provoke lightly.
To make sure that only the strongest sits on the throne, the Star Luo royal family upheld a brutal custom: the selection of the crown prince. Unlike Heaven Dou’s hereditary succession, the Star Luo heir was chosen through bloodshed. All royal princes, alongside their betrothed fiancées, were thrust into a merciless competition. Only the last pair alive would emerge victorious, and that prince would inherit the throne.
The empire considered it a trial by fire, only those who survived such carnage were worthy of ruling.
This tradition had shaped generations of rulers, ensuring that the throne was never held by the weak. But it also bred cruelty and fear within the royal household. Brothers became mortal enemies, and fiancées, once betrothed with hope, were bound to a battlefield drenched in betrayal.
In the original course of events, one boy had rejected this fate. Dai Mubai, the second prince of the Star Luo Empire, trembled beneath the shadow of his elder brother, Dai Weisi. The pressure was suffocating—Dai Weisi’s talent, and ambition made him a nightmare to contend with. Terrified, Dai Mubai fled from the imperial palace at the mere age of nine, abandoning not only his duty but also his fiancée. He slipped away across the borders, eventually hiding in the Balak Kingdom’s Soto City.
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In the city, in a tavern
A girl with golden-blonde hair sat gracefully by the window, her posture perfect, every gesture refined as though she were born to rule. She lifted her porcelain cup, sipping her tea with a serene smile. Even in a common tavern, her elegance radiated like the glow of the morning sun breaking through mist.
Beside her, a gaunt man cloaked in shadows sat silently. His aura was cold and oppressive, though carefully restrained. Ghost Douluo—watched the surroundings with hawk-like focus, his spiritual perception spreading across the tavern. Every flicker of movement, every whispered tone, passed through his scrutiny.
Outside, the city bustled with unusual festivity. The rhythmic beat of drums mixed with the cheerful strumming of lutes as bards sang in the streets.
"Our little star, the second prince, is two years old today! His Majesty the King has decreed that the tax of this month shall be waived!"
Their voices echoed into the tavern, drawing hearty cheers from the men gathered at the tables. Tankards clinked, laughter rose, and the scent of cheap wine thickened in the air. For the common folk, such news was nothing short of a blessing.
But Qian Renxue’s eyes narrowed slightly, the smile on her lips curving into a smirk.
‘So… taxes waived just because a child reached two years of age? No, that’s not it. This is nothing but a smokescreen—an attempt to soothe the unrest caused by the king casting out his own blood brother out of the royal city.’
She set her teacup down softly, porcelain tapping the wood with the faintest sound.
The King’s brother, had awakened a martial soul not of the orthodox White Tiger bloodline, but a mutation: the Blood Tiger. Because of that, he had been denied the chance to compete for succession. The White Tiger’s martial soul fusion was the foundation of their dynasty’s legitimacy, without it, no prince could dream of wearing the crown.
Qian Renxue swirled her tea, watching the golden ripples dance in the cup.
‘The future “war god”Dai Mubai of the Shrek Seven devils, is two years old today…. They celebrate him as though destiny is already decided. But the kingdom’s so-called destiny is far more fragile than they think.’
Her purple eyes glinted with amusement as she watched the tavern patrons raise their cups to the King’s health. None of them spared a thought for the brother cast out.
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