DD Black White [373-374] (Patreon)

Chapter 373 Let This Moonlight Illuminate All Rivers

Hoolay's movements froze in an instant, as though time itself slowed upon him.

Jingliu did not immediately pursue. She slowly raised the longsword in her hand, the tip pointing straight at the heavens.

The surging sword intent and frigid aura around her converged madly upon the blade's tip, like a hundred rivers returning to the sea.

"Then let this moonlight illuminate all rivers!"

Her voice remained cool and indifferent.

Daylight dimmed abruptly, as if all radiance were drawn into the sword tip.

The next moment, a beam of lunar sword qi—so brilliant and cold it defied description—fell from the sky.

As the sword qi descended, a massive, translucent domain of glacial ice formed, completely enshrouding Hoolay and the surrounding space.

Within the domain, time seemed frozen. Light warped. All things fell silent. Only endless cold spread outward, freezing all existence.

Hoolay felt an unprecedented threat of death—one that surpassed even the moment he was frozen centuries ago.

He burned his life origin frantically, even at the cost of overdrawing the foundational bloodline of the Borisin. The Blood-Moon Warblade keened under the strain. He tried to break free of the domain's absolute stasis.

"Jingliu, in the centuries since you defeated me, I have thought of nothing but how to break your power."

His heartbeat pounded like drums. Blood roared through his veins fast enough to explode. His skin temperature surged, hot enough to melt steel, a self-destructive internal combustion to resist the absolute zero that froze even thought.

"Let me show you a power fueled by my very life."

"I… will not… die!!"

He let out a twisted, maddened roar—and actually managed to move, ever so slightly, within the domain.

Yet Jingliu's gaze remained calm as still water, even carrying a trace of… detached pity?

"Futile."

She parted her red lips and uttered a single word.

Yes, Hoolay had found a method to counter the power of ice—an approach worthy of being called genius.

But between them lay a fundamental gap. Jingliu might not have been at her peak, but she was here in her true body.

Hoolay, however, was merely a memory-body sustained by the Grail. His strength not only fell short of his true self—it was far beneath the current Jingliu.

Moreover, Jingliu's greatest strength had never been ice, but the swordsmanship that could cleave the stars—her true core.

Under that terrifying sword intent, the heat Hoolay had kindled with his life burned like a guttering candle in the wind and was swiftly snuffed out.

The blood-glow upon his body dimmed and shattered. Regenerating flesh could not keep up with the ceaseless annihilation wrought by the sword qi.

His struggle, his unwillingness, his centuries of obsession—all of it, together with his consciousness, was frozen by that cold moonlight and reduced to nothing.

The domain dissipated.

Hoolay, still locked in his desperate pose, became a lifeless, crystalline ice sculpture, the madness and roar on his face eternally fixed.

Jingliu slowly descended from the air. The waxing-waning state ended; the eerie red light faded from her eyes. Her expression returned to normal, her breath steady and long, as if she had done nothing of consequence.

She did not spare the ice statue another glance. She turned away, eyes settling on another battlefield.

To her, destroying the memory remnant of a defeated underling warranted no attention.

On the other side, the battle between Sea God Tang San and the Silver Dragon King, Gu Yuena, had reached a fever pitch.

Tang San's divine-sense avatar forced himself to calm from the shock of the Silver Dragon King's sudden appearance, his face grave.

Sensing its master's battle intent, the Seagod Trident burst into towering gold-blue divine light. Godly power surged like a vast ocean, oppressing all around.

"Disorderly Storm!"

He struck first with a field-control divine art. The golden trident traced profound arcs in the air; massive golden halos, each several meters wide and inscribed with Seagod runes, manifested out of nothing. They did not travel in straight lines but instead sealed off every possible path of movement from every direction, layering upon each other to confine and suppress Gu Yuena.

A sliver of disdain crossed Gu Yuena's peerlessly beautiful face.

She did not move an inch. The silver glow about her flickered—the mark of absolute mastery over space.

All the incoming halos, upon entering within ten meters of her, seemed to fall into a labyrinth of layered space. Their speed dropped to a crawl and their paths twisted, as if struggling through viscous amber.

She merely lifted her slender hand, five fingers lightly curling.

Hum!

The space around rippled gently, like waves on a pond.

All the halos were deftly nudged aside by an unseen hand, missing her by a hair's breadth and crashing into the ruins behind her. They shattered into showers of golden motes, failing to so much as brush her hem.

"Seagod."

Gu Yuena's voice was ethereal and imperious, befitting the sovereign of soul beasts.

"With only a wisp of divine sense, you dare strut before me? Who gave you the courage?"

Before her words had fully fallen, she lifted a jade hand. Her long fingertip tapped lightly at the air ahead.

"Elemental Tide: Annihilation."

This was not a mere gathering of elements.

Earth, fire, water, wind, light, darkness, space—the laws of seven elements were invoked, harmonized, and amplified at once.

A roaring seven-colored torrent, over ten meters across, surged forth, its hues shifting within as if holding the birth and death of universes.

Where it passed, space was not torn but erased, like being rubbed out by an eraser, revealing the chaos below. All things—matter or energy—were decomposed, assimilated, and reduced to their most basic particles.

A tide violent enough to annihilate even divine power.

Tang San's face changed drastically. From that seven-colored torrent, he felt a mortal threat far beyond what this wisp of divine sense could endure.

He dared not hold anything back. He poured all Seagod power into the Golden Trident.

"Golden Thirteen Halberds: Millennia of Empty Quiet!"

With a roar he swung the trident. In an instant, tens of thousands of solid, golden halberd-shadows were born. They were not chaotic but arranged like the most disciplined army, layering into a vast, dazzling golden defensive array that spanned before the elemental tide.

Divine power resonated and circulated through the halberd-shadows, striving to dissolve the destructive impact with the Seagod's vastness and resilience.

Rumble—!!!

The seven-colored torrent slammed into the golden halberd array.

In that moment, it was as if two stars collided.

The blast's light made the sun pale. Space at the epicenter shattered like a mirror, forming a briefly existing black hole that devoured everything nearby.

A circular shockwave spread unbridled, leveling the distant ruins and even altering the very terrain.

After holding out for a few breaths, the golden array finally began to crumble and disperse.

Tang San grunted. His divine-sense body trembled violently, becoming several degrees more transparent—a clear sign of heavy shock.

Would Gu Yuena relent at such an advantage? Not a chance. She pressed the attack without giving him so much as a breath.

She did not reveal her true Silver Dragon King form, but a colossal phantom claw, covered in crystalline silver scales and with talon-tips gleaming with seven-hued law, coalesced out of the air.

At its appearance, it was as though the world's laws bowed in submission. With a primal, star-rending, law-shattering pressure, it ignored space itself and struck down toward Tang San.

Tang San felt an unprecedented mortal danger, enough to unsettle even this wisp of his divine sense.

With an unwilling roar, he burned his remaining divine sense recklessly.

The Golden Trident gave a final, sorrowful cry and transformed into a colossal gold-blue pillar of light, as if propping up heaven and earth, meeting the descending dragon claw.

It was the last and strongest strike he could wring from this fragment of himself.

The second, even more terrifying collision exploded.

The gold-blue beam smashed into the seven-colored dragon claw.

No sound could be heard—sound itself was swallowed by pure energy annihilation.

Only indescribable glare swept over everything, forming an ever-expanding sphere of energy.

At last, after a brief stalemate, the claw-phantom faded away.

And Tang San's ultimate strike, born of burned divine sense, also ran dry—the gold-blue beam shattered.

His divine-sense body turned almost fully transparent and dull, on the verge of dissipating. His aura withered to the extreme.

"Silver Dragon King… why… are you here…"

Tang San's voice was full of rage, confusion, and an inescapable weakness.

He could not fathom why the Silver Dragon King would appear here and now—and as his foe.

By his knowledge, she should have still been hidden away, sleeping off her wounds.

Gu Yuena couldn't be bothered to answer.

Cold divine light flared in her deep violet dragon eyes. Her hands closed slowly before her chest, condensing a seven-colored sphere of extreme compression in an instant—within it, countless miniature galaxies seemed to be born and die, brimming with ultimate destructive power.

Space around it twisted violently.

"It's over, Seagod."

Her red lips parted, declaring the final verdict.

The seven-colored orb vanished from her hands—and in the next instant, ignoring all distance, it appeared within Tang San's nearly transparent divine-sense body—space jump.

He had no time to react. Shock and unwillingness froze on his face.

"No—!!!"

Only a final, despairing roar sounded—and then the seven-colored orb detonated within him.

Blinding prismatic light devoured that wisp of Seagod's divine sense completely. Within it, countless elements seemed to explode and annihilate.

When the light faded, that fragment of Tang San, the Seagod, had vanished without a trace—not even the tiniest particle of energy remained—erased from existence by the Silver Dragon King's ultimate strike, condensed from multiple elemental essences.

As the brilliance died, Gu Yuena slowly lowered her hands. Her flawless face was cold and detached, as if she'd brushed away a speck of dust.

She tilted her head slightly and looked toward Jingliu, giving a slight nod.

Jingliu looked back just as calmly, her cool gaze unruffled, and nodded in return.

Two equally formidable women had dispatched their foes swiftly and decisively with overwhelming power.

Over the ruins, only Hoolay's ice sculpture stood in silence, while the lingering ripples of energy had yet to fully fade.

Above Mingdu, the tide of destruction had subsided for now, but sorrow and deathly stillness spread.

Tang Wutong stood dazed, the color drained from her breathtaking face, like a delicate glaze stripped of all luster.

Her empty gaze fixed on the spot where the Seagod Tang San's phantom had just vanished. Only a few drifting motes of golden light remained, like guttering candles in the wind, singing a last elegy.

"Dad…?"

She murmured, voice thin as a dream, trembling with disbelief. "No… impossible. Father is a God King—how could he?"

She tried to sense that familiar, warm Seagod power—but touched only icy nothingness.

The Seagod's power that had shielded her and given her courage and confidence was truly gone.

A fear she had never known and a marrow-deep chill seized her heart in an instant, stealing her breath.

She was the daughter of a God King, adored since childhood. Tang San, in her heart, was omnipotent—her eternal support.

But now, part of that support had been shattered before her eyes, destroyed to protect her.

The shock and ineffable grief drowned her. Strength and thought deserted her.

Her slender body swayed. The light in her eyes went out completely, leaving only confusion and pain, as if the world was collapsing before her.

Her will, in that moment, sank to the bottom.

And just then—while Tang Wutong's mind was unguarded and defenseless—

A golden figure appeared soundlessly behind her.

The newcomer held a Golden Dragon Spear. Her features were strikingly similar to Tang Wutong's, though wilder and colder—Wang Qiu'er.

Her gaze was infinitely complicated. Looking at the defenseless, shattered Tang Wutong, a flicker of struggle flashed deep within her eyes—but was consumed by a fiercer yearning.

A yearning for a complete soul. A pursuit of true independence.

Opportunity knocks but once.

The last trace of hesitation in Wang Qiu'er's eyes hardened into icy resolve.

The Golden Dragon Spear thrummed low. Without the slightest hesitation, it became a razor-edged golden streak, driving straight for Tang Wutong's unguarded back.

"Squelch—!"

The sound of blade through flesh was so clear—and so cruel.

"Uhh…"

Tang Wutong's body jerked rigidly. The sharp pain pulled a fleeting moment of focus into her scattered gaze.

She lowered her head with difficulty, disbelief in her eyes, staring at the blood-stained golden spear tip protruding from her chest.

She tried to turn, but had no strength left. Still, she knew who stood behind her.

Life fled her swiftly with her shattered heart.

The crushing grief of her father's fall had not yet faded before it was joined by the shock and pain of her own mortal wound.

Chapter 374 The Death of Tang Wutong

Wang Qiu'er flicked her wrist and wrenched the Golden Dragon Spear free.

Tang Wutong's body crumpled forward. Blood spread rapidly beneath her, blooming like a tragic, scarlet flower.

The light in her eyes went out completely, freezing at last into confusion, sorrow, and regret.

At the instant her life's breath fully dissipated, something strange occurred.

A point of radiance, shimmering with a peculiar soul fluctuation, drifted from between Tang Wutong's brows. It was the fragment of soul that originally belonged to her—yet shared the same source as Wang Qiu'er.

Wang Qiu'er drew a deep breath, holding the Golden Dragon Spear horizontally. The spear tip seemed to generate an invisible pull.

That soul fragment, like a fledgling returning to its nest, drifted gently and finally merged wholly into Wang Qiu'er's brow.

At the same time, Tang Wutong's body—now bereft of its soul—dissolved into motes of light and merged entirely into Wang Qiu'er.

Hum—!

An indescribable sense of wholeness swept through Wang Qiu'er.

Her soul, once like a circle missing its vital arc, was at last completed—flawless, without blockage or emptiness.

Power surged outward from her in a crash, golden light soaring skyward—brighter and more solid than ever before.

The Golden Dragon Spear in her hand let out a high, draconic cry, as if celebrating its final completion.

When the light subsided, Wang Qiu'er stood quietly, feeling the new strength coursing within and the now-unblemished soul.

Her features were little changed, but her bearing had undergone a total metamorphosis.

Whole at last, she inherited Tang Wutong's complete memories—but to her, they were like watching a movie, without any real feeling.

Even so, they transformed her; her temperament grew nobler, more sacred.

She was no longer merely the human form of the Emperor Beast, the Three-Eyed Golden Lion, nor half a being dependent on Tang Wutong.

From this moment on, she was a truly complete, independent individual.

She was—Wang Qiu'er.

"Congratulations, Qiu'er."

A gentle, smiling voice sounded behind her, breaking the stillness of Wang Qiu'er's self-realization.

"From now on, no one—no being—will be able to steer your fate so easily."

Wang Qiu'er did not need to turn to know it was Lu Jingming.

She turned slowly, her newly reborn eyes flowing with golden divine light as she looked at him.

She did not show joy at his words. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, the corner of her lips curving in a faint but meaningful arc, and softly countered:
"No one can steer my fate? Then… what about you, Lu Jingming?"

The sudden, core-aimed retort froze the usual smile on Lu Jingming's face for a beat.

He clearly hadn't expected Wang Qiu'er's first question, upon gaining her full soul, power, and independence, to cut at him so sharply.

"Pft—"

A crisp, teasing chuckle rose from behind him.

Lemuen had lifted her hand, slender fingers elegantly covering her lips. Her pink-violet eyes—always glinting with mischief and curiosity—arched into crescent moons. Clearly, seeing Lu Jingming at a rare loss amused her greatly.

As a Servant who observed with a playful heart and occasionally liked to tease Lu Jingming, she would certainly not waste such a prime chance to watch the show.

More surprising still, even Istaroth, the Time Shade—usually too languid to care, as if the world bored her—lifted her half-lidded eyes a fraction. At her lips appeared a rare, faintly playful smile.

She was usually like an ancient, motionless clock tower, indifferent to the flow of time and scarcely reactive to outside ripples.

That she now showed something close to delight at Wang Qiu'er stumping Lu Jingming was so unprecedented it was almost more astonishing than the question itself.

Caught out before Lemuen and Istaroth, Lu Jingming could only smile wryly, spreading his hands in frank admission: "All right, all right… except me."

His tone was candid; he did not hide it.

"The earlier statement needs a premise—except me."

He did not deny that even though Wang Qiu'er's soul was now whole and her potential vast—an independent, complete self—her fate still lay in his hands.

Freedom from others' control naturally excluded the one who had forged and charted her path.

After all, he had already arranged the next steps of her destiny.

Suspended within the Holy Grail was a fully gestated Seagod divinity. In Lu Jingming's mind, its heir was Wang Qiu'er.

Though Wang Qiu'er herself might never admit it, from soul to bloodline she had completely replaced Tang Wutong, tied by an unbreakable bond to Tang San and Xiao Wu.

In a sense, calling her another kind of Tang Wutong would not be wrong—only the personality and name differed.

Lu Jingming's decision to confer the Seagod's seat upon Wang Qiu'er was partly cultivation.

The bloodline and fortune of a God King's daughter, combined with the Emperor Beast, gave Wang Qiu'er terrifying potential—enough to bear a god-seat.

On the other hand, he candidly admitted there was a dash of personal mischief—a hidden connoisseur of fun, he looked forward to the many interesting developments that might follow if Wang Qiu'er inherited the Seagod's position.

With Karna and Hoolay exiting in succession, this vast and tumultuous Holy Grail War was essentially at its end.

The Grail War's initial aims were to aid the Douluo plane's ascension and to condense god-seats. Both aims were fulfilled.

Douluo Star's evolution had stored sufficient energy; it only needed time to complete metamorphosis. The god-seat was in hand. The dust had settled.

As for the remaining Servants—Artoria, Skirk, Jing Yuan, and the rest—Lu Jingming had no intention of wiping them all out.

These powerful beings from different worlds, left as variables in a world in upheaval, might strike more brilliant sparks and bring different changes and possibilities to Douluo's future.

And that was precisely what Lu Jingming welcomed and anticipated.

"Hm? What's this…"

At that moment, Wang Qiu'er softly exclaimed, lifting her right hand in puzzlement.

On the smooth back of her hand, a blood-hued Command Seal—identical to the one on her left and infused with contract power—was slowly emerging and solidifying.

Lu Jingming's eyes narrowed slightly. His gaze swept at once to the distant, fierce clash between Vita and Durandal, and he understood.

Ordinarily, with her Master Tang Wutong dead, Servant Vita's time would begin to run out.

The Grail would autonomously start drawing negative energy from a masterless Servant, causing her to gradually fade and exit.

Yet he sensed no extraction from the Grail upon Vita.

This meant Vita's Master link had not truly been severed—she still had a binding contract.

The answer was obvious.

Though Tang Wutong's body had perished, Wang Qiu'er—on the level of soul and blood—had become, in another sense, Tang Wutong.

The two had merged into one; only the leading consciousness had changed hands.

By the Grail's rules, which judged on soul and contract, Wang Qiu'er and Tang Wutong were deemed the same person.

Thus, Vita's contract naturally transferred to this Wang Qiu'er.

Wang Qiu'er had, unwittingly, exploited a bug in the Grail's rules and miraculously held contracts with two Servants at once.

Of course, a Master's control over a Servant varied from person to person.

Just look at Ma Xiaotao and her Servant Sparkle—Ma Xiaotao had no hold over her at all.

And as for this Miss Vita… with her capricious, pleasure-seeking nature, would she truly heed Wang Qiu'er? That deserved a very large question mark.

On the other end of the battlefield.

"Hm? Little Wutong… is dead?"

Vita's offensive paused slightly, a faint regret flickering in her all-seeing Wisdom Eye.

"How… unfortunate. Little Vi is actually a bit sad."

Though she had long foreseen Tang Wutong's slim odds, she had still been called "sister" by that girl for so long that some slender, genuine feeling had formed.

Even if, perhaps, only the tiniest bit.

Yet before that sadness could last, she sensed that the abruptly severed Master contract, in the very next instant, had been reconnected in an inconceivable way.

This discovery caused a rare moment of daze to flit across her elegant composure—completely unexpected.

She had prepared countermeasures, confident she could evade the Grail's forced recall after her Master's death and remain.

But before she could employ anything, the contract… revived on its own?

Her gaze pierced space, settling on Wang Qiu'er. The Wisdom Eye flickered, and the causes and effects were laid bare to her.

"Heh… so that's how it is."

Vita's lips curved back into her usual elegant smile, as if she knew every secret. "Soul completion—what an amusing development."

Understanding the situation, she immediately chose the course most favorable now.

"Eya—!"

She let out an exaggerated yet graceful yelp, raising both hands high in a harmless gesture of surrender, while issuing orders to the Lone Planetfarer behind her.

"Cease fire, cease fire—Little Vi surrenders~ Lady Durandal, please stay your hand, won't you?"

Swish—!

The lance tip, wrapped in the powers of Disruption and Creation, halted a hair's breadth before Vita's brow.

Durandal's bold brows furrowed. Truth be told, she very much wanted to end this dangerous, crafty woman with one thrust.

But her earnest—nearly inflexible—nature would never allow her to strike down an opponent who had clearly given up resistance.

If she were to kill, it must be in fair combat, not when the other had yielded.

Seeing Durandal halt as predicted, Vita's smile bloomed brighter.

She had already calculated that with Durandal's upright, serious character, she would never take advantage of such a moment.

Of course, Vita herself was not undefended; had Durandal truly struck, she had her trump cards to survive.

"Stand down, Durandal."

Lu Jingming arrived with Wang Qiu'er at just the right time behind Durandal.

Since Vita's contract had transferred to Wang Qiu'er, she was no longer an enemy that needed purging.

"What happened?"

Durandal withdrew White Flower, but the vigilance in her eyes did not fade.

Though only one opponent remained, Vita's trickiness kept her wary.

"It's a long story, but Miss Vita is, for the moment, not our enemy."

Lu Jingming smiled at Vita, gentle and cordial. "Am I right, Miss Vita?"

Yet that mild smile stirred an instinctive caution in Vita.

She had the sense that behind his harmless expression lay some intriguing intent.

Especially the way his gaze, intentionally or not, slid toward the imposing deep-green mech beside her—the Lone Planetfarer—made her eyelids twitch as she muttered inwardly.

'Up close, this Lone Planetfarer gets more and more irresistible…'

Lu Jingming praised her in his heart. Men are boys till they die, and what boy could resist a top-tier mech?

Unless it's a mecha girl… Well, he already had Firefly. And now this perfect mech seemed to deliver itself to his door?

"This young gentleman is absolutely right~"

Vita took the offered step at once—she always knew the times.

"A Master-Servant contract can't be faked. We are, in truth, companions now, aren't we?"

She smiled like a flower, her tone light.

A single Durandal was pressure enough; add the unfathomable Istaroth and Lemuen, and brute defiance would be folly.

Miss Vita excelled at reading the room.

Of course, she had no intention of giving up her dear sister Sparkle.

Changing sides was one thing, but seeking fun remained her highest priority.

Even with a new Master, her attitude toward Wang Qiu'er would likely mirror how she treated Tang Wutong.

Obedient on the surface, but inwardly regarding her as a provider of stage and opportunity—dispensable. The true delight always lay in the process.

She turned to Wang Qiu'er. Her all-seeing Wisdom Eye held a playful, probing glint as she drew out her words.

"So then… my dear Master~ should I keep calling you Little Wutong, or…?"

"My name is Wang Qiu'er."

Wang Qiu'er's face darkened. Her answer was firm and unhesitating.

She would never acknowledge herself as Tang Wutong, even if their fates were now inextricably entwined.