Duoluo Dalu: Path to Godhood

Mastering movement techniques filled the last gap in his combat abilities.

Without enough resources, it was best not to think about body refining.

As long as he could dodge quickly, others wouldn't be able to hit him.

Now, if he could coordinate his scythe technique and movement skillfully, and attack while moving, he would have a basic level of combat effectiveness.

He could barely protect himself.

No longer would he need to set elaborate traps like when he killed the old beggar.

As this thought surfaced, Fang Ling froze, then quickly slapped himself.

A crisp "smack" rang out.

He felt ashamed of his own thought.

Still not cautious enough!

If traps could be used, of course they should be used.

First injure, then finish off.

If someone escaped the trap, then Fang Ling could fight them openly.

Letting the enemy exhaust themselves while he stayed fresh, attacking with full strength against a wounded foe, that was his idea of honor.

Reassessing his thoughts, Fang Ling returned to the right mindset.

Time to go bathe. He still had cultivation to do later; he couldn't waste time.

Even a mosquito's leg is still meat, let alone meditation that could enhance soul power.

He had come here stumbling, one step shallow, one deep, but now he leaped lightly over tree roots and scattered rocks.

It wasn't completely smooth yet, but the future looked promising!

A month passed.

Fang Ling had now coordinated his scythe technique and movement well. His combat skills were taking shape.

If he fought Tang San now...

Better not.

But if he fought Wang Sheng, he was confident the tough guy wouldn't be able to lay a finger on him.

Instead, Wang Sheng would collapse to the ground, bleeding and covered in wounds.

It was early summer, and the sun blazed overhead.

He walked in the shade, carrying a water flask, stepping lightly toward the slaughterhouse.

Halfway there, he suddenly noticed someone lying on the ground.

It was a young man with pale skin, looking weak and helpless.

He lay there with his eyes closed as if unconscious, quietly asleep.

His sunken eye sockets and dark circles seemed vaguely familiar.

Familiar?

Fang Ling frowned, suddenly alert.

Given his usual routine, school and slaughterhouse, sometimes visiting the butcher, he was sure he'd never seen this man before.

Besides, someone lying on the roadside, looking like a drug addict, something didn't feel right.

Fang Ling had no intention of approaching.

Lack of curiosity and minding one's own business was key to surviving in the world of Douluo.

He adjusted his direction, ready to take another path.

The pale-faced young man slightly raised a hand, fingers twitching, and said weakly, "Little brother, help me."

"Who are you?" would have been a normal question.

But Fang Ling wasn't normal, he was extremely cautious.

A strong sense of unease radiated from the young man, triggering warning bells in his mind.

Sensing danger, he began to slowly retreat.

"Hey! Don't go," the pale-faced youth said anxiously, then added temptingly, "Help me to the city and I'll give you a gold soul coin."

He pulled a golden coin from his pouch, as if to prove he was telling the truth.

A gold soul coin!

Just for helping him back to the city?

The value didn't match the act, definitely suspicious.

Instead of moving closer, Fang Ling backed away even faster, surprising the man.

Sure enough, as Fang Ling retreated, the situation changed dramatically.

The pale-faced man's face twitched as he struggled to get up. "Just my luck today, ran into such a cautious little cripple."

"Since when do poor people not like gold soul coins?"

He didn't mistake him. The rough linen clothes Fang Ling wore were only good for being cheap and durable.

Only laborers or people doing dirty, exhausting work wore those, no normal person would.

Fang Ling could feel the man's malice and immediately turned to run.

But even with his movement technique, he couldn't outrun the man.

The man was a young adult, and Fang Ling was just a child, his legs were longer.

He covered two steps for every one of Fang Ling's.

Still, he shouldn't have been faster, he was likely a soul master.

Fang Ling's mind raced, trying to recall if he had ever offended someone.

He couldn't think of any reason.

But this wasn't the time for that.

He wouldn't last at this speed and would soon be caught. He had to find a way to escape.

He must not be caught.

With that thought, Fang Ling changed tactics.

With a push off his toes, he veered to the side and dove into the thick forest.

In the heat of summer, the forest was extremely dense.

The dry ground and complex terrain were perfect for using his level 1 movement technique.

The thick foliage also gave him natural cover.

Anyone targeting Fang Ling deserved to die, especially if they couldn't catch him quickly. That meant the pursuer was likely just a one-ring soul master. One soul ring wasn't that powerful, he could kill him!

Being targeted like this, Fang Ling couldn't rest easy unless the man was dead.

Fang Ling ran ahead while the pale-faced man chased behind.

The tangled branches reduced visibility and made movement difficult.

The man's ears turned into bat-like appendages.

His mouth opened, revealing two pairs of bloody fangs, making his already sickly face even more terrifying.

He had a bat martial soul. After invoking it, he could use ultrasonic waves for tracking.

Despite having a hundred-year soul ring, this one-ring soul master could only barely keep pace with the little cripple.

He cursed inwardly.

Why did these branches only block him and not the kid?

They were just regular trees, did they favor certain people?

Even after activating his martial soul, the chase was still hard.

That little cripple was as slippery as a monkey.

Finally, after a while, Fang Ling's speed noticeably slowed.

He looked like he couldn't run anymore.

The pale-faced youth brightened. "Heh, just a kid. No stamina. Slowing down, huh?"

The gap closed rapidly.

They were within arm's reach. Just as he was about to catch him, Fang Ling unexpectedly turned around.

A sharp scythe glinted in the sunlight, cutting through the branches at a tricky angle, aiming directly for the man's chest and abdomen.

He was a soul master. His ultrasonic sense detected the attack instantly, and he could've dodged it.

He tried to step back, but got caught in the dense brush.

"Damn it!"

He cursed, activating his lone yellow soul ring.

His hands, covered in gray-brown fur, transformed into long claws, with razor-sharp nails like small knives.

"Clang!"

The scythe and claws clashed with a loud sound.

Fang Ling twisted his wrist slightly and broke free from the bind.

Angling his blade, he slashed down with force, aiming to sever the man's fingers.

The man recoiled in fright.

"A rookie soul master," Fang Ling judged.

Bat martial soul. Pale face. A familiar feeling.

While fleeing, Fang Ling finally remembered who this person reminded him of.

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