Reincarnated in Douluo: A Million‑Year Samsara

 A strange tremor brushed across Qian Yu's senses—an invisible ripple that tugged at something deep and instinctual. He paused mid-step in the silent woods, his gaze drifting southwest where the pulse had come from.

It wasn't just a sound—it was a roar, deep and unearthly, yet threaded with something more... something that gnawed at the edge of his mind like a half-forgotten dream.

His brows knit.

A spirit beast... but one that attacks the mind?

That whisper of unease burrowed further.

Without hesitation, Qian Yu moved. Darting through the forest like a shadow flitting between sunbeams, he chased the source of the roar. It didn't take long before the trees opened up and he found it—the creature behind the cry.

There, at the heart of the clearing, stood a monstrous beast clad in armor-like scales. Its body was shaped like a colossal lizard, easily towering over the treetops, and its hide shimmered in stark contrast—half of it dark as midnight, the other pale as snow.

Light and shadow flowed across its body in hypnotic waves, as though the creature itself was born from the very concept of balance.

Qian Yu's eyes widened, recognition blooming in an instant.

"The Yin-Yang Phantom Beast…"

It wasn't just rare—it was mythical. A spirit beast that blurred the line between illusion and reality, this creature wielded dual energies: Yin and Yang.

Its cries alone could drag unwary souls into endless illusions, like sleepwalkers lost in dreams. Few ever woke. Those that did were never the same.

But this one—this one wasn't just old. It was ancient.

A ten-thousand-year beast.

Qian Yu's heart surged, not with fear, but exhilaration.

This was no chance meeting—it was fate knocking.

He recalled a lifelong past, when he once faced a lesser Yin-Yang Phantom Beast and barely escaped with his soul intact. Now, to see one again in this forest, and one of such staggering power—it was more than coincidence.

The surrounding woods had gone still. Not a bird stirred. Not a single lesser beast dared remain. They had all fled before the Yin-Yang Phantom Beast's presence, leaving only the young boy standing boldly before the titan.

A child, no taller than a grown man's waist. Yet his presence—calm, unyielding—seemed to defy the gap in size and age.

He tilted his head, smiling up at the towering creature. "You're perfect," he said warmly, as if speaking to a new friend. "Be my spirit ring."

The beast growled in response, a low rumble that trembled through the air like a gathering storm. Its eyes locked onto Qian Yu with raw hostility—and a second roar split the sky.

Waves of psychic energy crashed toward him like invisible thunderclaps, seeking to unravel his mind, to drag him into delusion.

But Qian Yu chuckled, brushing the mental assault aside like cobwebs. "Sorry," he said softly, voice tinged with dry amusement. "I've reincarnated ten times. Tricks like that don't work on me anymore."

His eyes narrowed, the smile on his lips sharpening.

"If it's a battle of will, then you're in my domain."

In each of his ten lives, Qian Yu's soul had grown stronger, his spiritual essence refined and tempered beyond comparison. No ordinary beast—no matter how old—could hope to match that.

He took a step forward, voice low and coaxing. "Just behave, and I'll make it quick."

And then he moved.

His fingers carved ancient symbols through the air, and with a whisper of wind, the clearing exploded into motion. Dozens—no, hundreds—of razor-sharp blades of air surged toward the beast from every direction.

Shhhhk!

The sound of tearing echoed through the forest as the wind blades struck. Sparks flew. Scales held—barely.

Qian Yu narrowed his eyes. "Tough hide…"

Without pause, he knelt, placing his palm on the earth.

"Icebound... Suppression!"

The ground beneath him pulsed with cold. Ribbons of glacial energy unfurled across the soil like frost flowers, racing toward the beast. In moments, translucent ice crawled up the phantom beast's limbs, encasing its massive feet, locking it in place with nature's chains.

The creature bellowed, straining against the frost.

Then it retaliated.

Twin energies—one black, one white—spiraled into a spinning disc above its back, a swirling vortex of destructive balance. With a roar, the beast launched the disk toward Qian Yu like a wheel of death.

He didn't flinch.

"Earth Shield."

A wall of stone erupted from the ground with a boom, meeting the attack head-on. Dust and energy surged outward as the two forces clashed. When the smoke cleared, Qian Yu still stood—dusty, but untouched.

He frowned slightly.

His elemental spells weren't enough. Not for this.

He would need something more... personal.

With a slow breath, he closed his eyes and released the seals on his true power.

"It's been a while…" he murmured.

From the depths of his soul, a black light surged, coalescing into a weapon that pulsed with ancient, divine authority.

The War God's Spear.

Forged in a forgotten age, its presence alone seemed to bend the world around it. This was no mere weapon—it was a relic on par with legends: Poseidon's Trident, the Asura Blade.

Qian Yu gripped the spear and leapt.

For a moment, he was airborne—nothing but a silhouette against the morning light. Then he struck.

"Let's see how you handle this!"

BOOM.

The tip of the spear pierced deep into the creature's skull, and the force of impact cratered the forest floor beneath it. Blood erupted in a crimson spray.

The Yin-Yang Phantom Beast howled in agony, flailing with renewed fury. But the spell woven sound waves barely scratched Qian Yu's mind. His soul—tempered by lifetimes—was immune to such noise.

He moved again, a blur of precision and speed, slipping into the blind spot beneath the beast's shoulder.

Another strike.

Crash!

The blow sent the beast flying, knocking down entire trees like brittle reeds. The surrounding animals—silent witnesses—scattered in every direction. Some cowered. Others fled outright.

How... how could a child...

The thought echoed in the minds of every hidden watcher.

Qian Yu didn't let up.

With the grace of a dancer and the fury of a storm, he dashed forward, spear gleaming with concentrated soul force.

BOOM.

The spear moved like lightning, striking true.

A shockwave tore through the woods. The impact left a gaping wound in the creature's belly—raw, bleeding, final.

The mighty beast gave one last cry, a sound that seemed to mourn the end of an era.

And then it fell.

The forest was silent again.

Qian Yu stood alone amid the shattered trees, his small frame bathed in golden morning light, bloodstained but unshaken.

And in that quiet, beneath the watchful sky, he whispered:

"Rest now. You were magnificent."

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