Douluo, my clone Groudon

Chapter 348 Temple of Wisdom
The dizzying sensation of time distortion receded like the tide, and the solid ground beneath her feet gave way. Gula opened her eyes to a silent, desolate landscape.

We're back. The Legend of the Dragon King.

"Hoo..." A suppressed sigh came from beside her, carrying a hint of discomfort. Gu Yue frowned slightly, looking at the harsh environment around her.

“Welcome home, Your Majesty the Silver Dragon King.” Gula turned his head, a familiar, slightly playful smile on his face, his tone relaxed, as if he were discussing the weather.

Gu Yue didn't respond to his teasing, but only gave him a cold glance, her gaze sharp as a knife: "Stop talking nonsense. Where is this?"

Gula shrugged, communicating with his avatar to determine the distance between them, and couldn't help but touch his nose: "An isolated island in the southern part of the Star Luo Continent."

Gu Yue's expression was indifferent; with a flash of silver light, he headed north.

……

In another time and space, on the Douluo Continent, in the capital of the Heaven Dou Empire.

The once bustling Tiandou City now exudes an unusually solemn atmosphere, even carrying a kind of pilgrimage-like fervor.

On the wide central avenue, crowds thronged, a dense, endless sea of ​​people. They stood on tiptoe, craning their necks, their eyes fixed eagerly on the magnificent building at the end of the avenue—the newly completed "Temple of Wisdom."

The temple is built entirely of huge white rocks, with an ancient and solemn style, and its huge dome shines brightly in the sunlight.

In the center of the plaza in front of the palace stands a scholar statue several meters tall. The statue is dressed in a simple long robe, holding a scroll in one hand and slightly raising the other, pointing into the distance, its face calm and wise. On the base of the statue are engraved two powerful characters—Da Mu (大木).

The square was packed with people, yet unusually quiet, save for the suppressed breathing and the rustling of clothes. All eyes were fixed on the heavy bronze doors of the temple, which were slowly opening.

Inside, the light was soft. A figure slowly walked out in the gentle glow.

The newcomer wore a pure black robe, so deep it seemed to devour light. The robe was extremely simple in design, without any superfluous patterns, except for a few extremely dark gold borders embroidered on the collar and cuffs, which looked as if they were made of congealed blood.

His face was hidden in the deep shadows cast by his long robe and hood, with only a hard, angular jawline visible.

Most striking was the faint, almost imperceptible gray aura surrounding him. That aura was cold and lifeless, carrying an indifference of the end of all things; just a glance from afar sent chills down one's spine, as if one were staring directly at death itself.

Behind him, two strange, illusory objects could be vaguely seen floating in the air: a huge and ferocious scythe, its blade gleaming with a ghostly light that seemed to reap souls; and an ancient pyramid, its apex seemingly pointing to eternal judgment.

He is the embodiment of Professor Oak's will, a mysterious being who walks in the mortal world—Duan.

When he stepped fully out of the temple gates and stood atop the towering steps, facing the endless crowd below, the entire square fell into absolute silence. Even the sound of the wind seemed to freeze.

A few breaths later, a roaring sound, like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing down, suddenly erupted and soared into the sky!

"Professor Oak! A beacon of wisdom!"

"Professor Oak! Show me the way!"

The fervent slogans were chanted in unison, countless excited faces flushed red, their eyes filled with almost blind worship and awe. The believers waved their arms frantically, trying to get closer to the figure on the steps.

Du'an's face, hidden in the shadows, remained expressionless. He slowly raised a hand shrouded in a black robe, the movement carrying a cold, rhythmic quality, as if plucking invisible strings.

The frenzied shouts, like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing, were instantly silenced, as if choked by an invisible giant hand. The square fell into a deathly silence once more, with only countless pairs of eyes burning with passion fixed on him. A deep, calm voice, yet possessing a strange, penetrating power, like an echo from a tomb, clearly reached everyone's ears:

"God said, wisdom is a sharp blade that pierces through ignorance."

"God said that death is the ultimate equality of all life."

"God said, 'Revere the unknown and seek the truth.'"

"Remember this."

These three simple sentences, like cold iron laws, are imprinted on the hearts of every believer.

The crowd below held their breath, their eyes burning with even greater fervor. Many were even trembling with excitement, as if they had heard the most sacred words in the world.

Du'an withdrew his hand and remained silent, the cold gray vortex seeming to intensify even further.

He turned, his black robes tracing a deathly trail in the air, and stepped back into the deep shadows of the Temple of Wisdom. The heavy bronze doors slowly closed behind him, shutting out the noisy world outside.

Deep within the temple, in a sparsely furnished quiet room, there were no ornate decorations, only cold stone walls and a stone table.

Duan removed his hood, revealing a young face that bore a seven-tenths resemblance to Gula's original form, but was paler and more lifeless.

He walked to the stone table, on which was a thick stack of papers covered with writing. The title of the top one was: "On the Role of the Sea of ​​Spirit in the Cultivation of Soul Masters".

His fingertips brushed across the cool paper with an inhuman precision. This was a study on the future spiritual sea from the "paper archives" left behind by Gula.

Du'an's eyes remained expressionless, as if he were merely dealing with an object unrelated to himself.

After his original body left, he spent three years traveling all over the Douluo Continent, encountering death and collecting souls. His cultivation level rose like a rocket to the title of Douluo, and he established the "Temple of Wisdom" in the Heaven Dou Empire, which worshipped the Great Wood.

It wasn't that he didn't want to build a temple in the name of the earth and forest, but if people's impression of the goal wasn't related to the concept, the power of faith wouldn't be preserved much at all.

We can only collect faith in the name of "wisdom" first, and then slowly convert it later.

Suddenly, his hand holding the pen paused slightly, and a faint, almost imperceptible fluctuation, like a signal interference, flickered in his lifeless eyes on his pale, almost transparent face.

He raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing through the thick stone wall, directed towards the distant direction of Martial Soul City.

At the same moment, a vast, scorching, and supremely majestic will swept across the entire Heavenly Dou City like an invisible wave, finally pressing heavily upon the Temple of Wisdom.

That lofty and authoritative will, carrying scrutiny and an unquestionable authority, came from the Grand Elder of the Spirit Hall's Hall of Worship—Angel Douluo Qian Daoliu.

The thought contained an unmistakable message: outside the city, a battle was raging.

Du An put down his pen, his cold face showing no change in emotion.

He put his dark hood back on, and his figure faded and disappeared silently in the quiet room, leaving only a wisp of cold gray air slowly dissipating into the air.

(End of this chapter)