Douluo Dalu 2: Sun-Moon Glory

"What's following me...?"

Youling Nana kept glancing over her shoulder, but every time she looked back, there was nothing there. Yet the chilling sensation trailing behind her didn't fade for even a second.

As a spirit master born with a Ghost-type martial soul, she had always possessed an innate sensitivity to all things dark, malevolent, and deathly. That terrifying aura now shadowing her—it filled her with a fear far beyond anything she had ever known.

Even the Soul Sage-level elders of the Holy Spirit Cult's local branch had never made her feel such pure dread.

'Whatever that is... it's still following me.'

Forcing herself to remain composed, Nana casually swept her dark red hair to the side and tried to act natural. But her mind was locked on that terrifying presence lingering at her back.

"Hello."

A cold, eerie voice suddenly echoed inside her mind.

Nana's body went rigid. Her breath caught in her throat, and a strange, strangled whimper escaped her lips. She almost screamed—but years of hiding her true identity in the Sun Moon Royal Soul Engineering Academy had trained her to suppress her instincts.

Around her, several students paused, confused.

"Nana-jie, are you okay?" asked one of the girls nearest to her, her voice full of concern.

Nana forced a strained smile and laughed.

"Ahaha, nothing serious, Xiao Zhu. My stomach just hurts a bit. I'll be fine if I take a quick trip to the restroom, alright?"

"Of course! Take care, Nana-jie!"

Clearly delighted to receive a personal response, the girl quickly turned around, waving the others to follow her away. The moment no one was looking, Nana disappeared from the courtyard in a blur, vanishing like a ghost.

She bolted toward the nearest restroom building, her speed lightning fast. Without hesitation, she rushed into a stall, slammed the door shut behind her, locked it in a panic, and leaned against it, breathing heavily.

Only after several deep breaths did she feel the terrifying presence had finally receded. Shaky and pale, she slowly undid her skirt and sank onto the seat, her body still trembling.

When that "hello" had sounded directly inside her mind, it felt like her soul was going to be ripped apart. That kind of dread—an instinctive, primal terror—had nearly caused her to lose all control of her body.

'Don't think about it. Don't think about it.'

She tried to calm herself down, letting the warm trickle beneath her bring a small, shameful sense of physical relief.

But then—

Knock knock knock.

The bathroom stall door rattled with three slow, heavy knocks. Each one echoed like a death knell.

"You're in there, aren't you?"

That same voice. Cold. Inhuman. Echoing in her ears like it was right next to her.

Nana shrieked.

This time, she couldn't hold anything back. Her scream was loud and piercing, and she completely lost control, the stall echoing with splashing water and panic.

"I thought so."

The voice drew closer.

Outside the stall door, a pale hand reached for the lock.

The door creaked open.

And there he stood—a man in a dark cloak, with golden eyes that flickered dimly like lanterns lit with wicked flame. His expression was eerily calm, but Nana could feel something monstrous behind that gaze.

She tried to scream again but no sound came out.

This was death. It wasn't just a sensation—it was a fact, as real as the air she breathed.

To any ordinary onlooker, this was a black-robed man who had crept into the girls' restroom. But Nana, with her Ghost-type martial soul, knew better. This was no man. This was something far worse.

The pressure he emitted was like thick tar, clinging to her skin, seeping into her bones. It was the very essence of death.

Nana's body slumped. Her legs were trembling. Her bladder had already failed her. She stared helplessly as the man simply stood there, staring at her seated on the toilet like she was a corpse waiting to be claimed.

Only when the oppressive aura lessened did she begin to regain control of her mind. She quickly pulled up her skirt, stood up shakily, and glared at him through red-rimmed eyes.

"You—you're still looking?! Have you no shame?!"

The man chuckled, his voice low and raspy.

"Do you think I'd be interested in you, human?"

"You—!"

She bit her tongue, silenced not by the insult, but by the sheer horror of what she saw next.

That face... that pale, expressionless face.

Those glowing eyes that seemed to burn directly into her soul.

'Is this really... human?'

She couldn't believe it.

He didn't look alive.

His skin was too pale. His eyes too unnatural. His presence too heavy. He wasn't breathing. He had no warmth.

There was no heartbeat.

He was dead.

He was a corpse.

A monster wearing a man's face.

Nana's rage faded. Her fear returned. Her voice trembled.

"W-what do you want from me...?"

The man didn't answer her question. Instead, he calmly began to speak—as if reciting a tale long etched into stone.

"Youling Nana, born into a noble family of the Sun Moon Empire. Your father—a hereditary baron. Your mother—an ominous woman, a bearer of misfortune. Her presence doomed your household before you were even born."

Nana froze.

No one should know that.

No one.

But he continued.

"Your parents met. A year and a half later, you were born. The first six years of your life were bright, warm, and filled with love... until the visits began."

"You remember them, don't you? Strangers, dressed in black, who took your mother away against your father's protests. Every time she returned, her face was pale, her hands trembling. Your father aged rapidly. She came home less and less."

Nana's breath hitched.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

"At age twelve, you came home to find your father dead. A fatal wound across his chest. Your mother, sobbing at his side. She apologized, over and over, then took a dagger... and ended her own life before your very eyes."

"Your parents' souls were stolen—caged for eternity by the same people your mother once served. The Holy Spirit Cult. The ones you serve now. And you—left all alone—became their 'Holy Servant,' trading your freedom in hopes of saving them."

By the time he finished speaking, Nana was no longer standing.

She was on her knees.

Shaking.

Sobbing.

How did he know all that?

Why was this stranger telling her her own past like it was some ghost story passed down through generations?

Tears poured freely down her cheeks as her fists pounded the tiled floor. Bloodied knuckles. Screamed denials.

"No—no—no! No!! NO!!!"

Her voice echoed through the restroom like a banshee's wail, a heart-wrenching scream from a soul that had been crushed one too many times.

(End of Chapter)

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