DD Black White [401-403] (Patreon)

Chapter 401: Movements of the Spirit Hall Empire

Lu Jingming recalled that moment just now when Sparkle’ expression had twisted into near-yandere madness, and his eyelid couldn’t help but twitch.

What kind of nonsense fills this troublemaker’s head?

 Still, with his discerning eyes, he saw straight through the little schemes practically written on Sparkle’ face—and that almost-overflowing craving for him, and for the fun he represented.

Very well.

A masked Fool kept in sight and within arm’s reach for a timely knock on the head is far preferable to a time bomb hidden in the dark that could explode into an even bigger mess at any moment.

Keep her close, restrain her—and perhaps… make good use of her.

Having decided, Lu Jingming’s face wore a calm, in-control smile. He spoke softly:

“From today on, you’ll stay by my side. As for the pleasures you pursue…”

He paused slightly, eyes darkening.

“So long as you don’t touch my bottom line, I can tolerate some of it.”

At that, Sparkle’ smile instantly bloomed like a flaming rose at full blaze—gorgeous, scorching, with a dangerously destructive allure.

“Oh?”

She cupped her still-warm cheeks in both hands, mischief and expectation glimmering in her eyes.

“Then if… I accidentally do touch your bottom line? Will it be the same kind of… strange punishment as just now?”

She weighted the word “strange,” her tone ambiguous.

Lu Jingming leaned in slightly, close to her ear, and whispered in a voice that only the two of them could hear, laced with a faint, elusive chill:

“No. It would be something even more ‘excessive’ than that. I think it’s an experience you wouldn’t want to have firsthand.”

His words held layered meaning—and a warning.

Sparkle’ smile faltered, almost imperceptibly.

More excessive than earlier… and not just killing her?

In an instant, certain restricted, blush-inducing images sprang, unbidden, into her mind.

Though she chased pleasure and, deep down, even felt a stir of eagerness toward such unknown excess, the reason left to her made her shudder hard and restrain the urge to keep testing the edge of danger.

The punishment just now had been within her tolerance—indeed, it had opened a door to a new world, bringing a shivering delight she hadn’t expected.

But one step further… and ahead lay an abyss from which, once stepped into, there’d be no return.

For now, she didn’t want to fall that completely.

“You really intend to keep her?”

A cool voice sounded.

Gu Yuena slipped forward to stand beside Lu Jingming, very close.

Her violet eyes drifted over Sparkle, carrying a barely noticeable scrutiny and concern.

As she spoke, a faint, elegant fragrance lingered at Lu Jingming’s nose.

“Even if I’m not familiar with her, I can feel it—she’s trouble, through and through.”

Gu Yuena’s tone was steady, but her gaze was sharp.

She had clearly seen Sparkle’s earlier sick, frenzied expression.

It was hard to fathom that, in such circumstances, someone could treat suffering as a pleasure… Humanity’s diversity—she had witnessed it today.

Her worry wasn’t without reason.

Keeping such a being by their side—one who fed on chaos and delight, whose actions were hard to predict—was undoubtedly like placing a bomb nearby that could go off at any time.

Hearing the concern in Gu Yuena’s voice, Lu Jingming smiled with composure and gestured for her to rest easy.

“I understand your concern.”

He explained to Gu Yuena:

“The Masked Fools are indeed known for chasing pleasure and stirring chaos. But the ‘pleasure’ they seek has always presupposed the existence of life—without life, what is there to feel, to enjoy? For that reason, deep down, they maintain a certain respect for life.”

He paused, glancing at Sparkle.

“Take Sparkle: she’s playful, seemingly capricious, but have you ever seen her truly trample life’s bottom line? That incident in Mingdu—detonating a ninth-rank stationary soul tool shell and blowing open a space-time channel—she didn’t hesitate precisely because Mingdu had already become an empty city. Civilians had either been evacuated early or already perished. Most wandering within were claws of the antimatter legion.”

“As for those drawn into the time-space turbulence—they didn’t die. Sparkle merely caused them trouble. For a Masked Fool, that’s everyday fare.”

Finally, he said softly to Gu Yuena, “Besides, I have you all by my side. Sparkle isn’t good at fighting. With your strength, restraining her is more than enough.”

Hearing his clear, reasoned analysis, Gu Yuena nodded slightly. The furrow in her brow gradually eased.

His confidence—and his trust in her strength—unconsciously brought the faintest smile to her eyes, like thawing ice rivers meeting the first waters of spring.

“In that case.”

Her cool voice, for once, held a hint of good cheer.

“Let it be as you say.”

With Sparkle settled, the next step was to help Qian Renxue take control within the Spirit Hall Empire. Lu Jingming could trust Qian Renxue—he understood her.

But he did not trust Bibi Dong. That woman was mad, beyond normal reckoning—and a love-brained one at that, still pining for Yu Xiaogang even now.

She sent people to attack the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan for the Spirit Hunt Plan? No—the deeper reason was a petty, personal grievance over Yu Xiaogang.

Yu Xiaogang had been scorned within that clan and drifted for years; she wanted to trample the entire Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan underfoot to vent that twisted urge to defend him.

Therefore, this world could not be left to Bibi Dong, that madwoman. He would not cooperate with her. For Qian Renxue’s sake, he could spare Bibi Dong’s life—after all, she was a first-tier god and still combat power.

But Bibi Dong must surrender her authority. His only ally could be Qian Renxue—because she was more controllable.

At present in the Spirit Hall Empire, Bibi Dong commanded the Elder Hall, and the newly selected Seven Great Sects were loyal to her.

But in terms of strength, Qian Renxue’s side held the upper hand. Bibi Dong was constrained by Qian Renxue, while under Qian Renxue, the Worship Hall’s seven worships—except for the already sacrificed Grand Worship Qian Daoliu—left six worships, each a peak Titled Douluo above rank 96. In raw combat strength, they completely suppressed the Elder Hall.

And not all Titled Douluo in the Elder Hall obeyed Bibi Dong: for example, the Snake Lance Douluo and Porcupinefish Douluo were Qian Renxue’s subordinates.

However, Bibi Dong still held the title; she was Empress of the Spirit Hall Empire. They needed her to relinquish the throne and pass it to Qian Renxue.

On that, Lu Jingming already had a plan. According to Qian Renxue’s intelligence, Bibi Dong was preparing to mobilize against the Star Luo Empire, to destroy it in one stroke and unify the continent completely.

Having just annexed the Heaven Dou Empire, Bibi Dong wasn’t thinking of rest, but of continuing the war—clearly treating the empire’s foundations as nothing.

Yet her move would corner the Star Luo Empire and Tang San’s group. For Tang San and company, what they now lacked most was time.

…

Spirit City.

Before the vast plaza of the Pope’s Palace, a sea of soldiers and soul master formations stood in solemn ranks, stretching to the horizon.

Sunlight fell on cold armor and varied soul master robes, reflecting a chilling, dazzling glare. A killing aura soared skyward, as if to rend the clouds.

On the high dais stood a beautiful, imperious figure—the Empress of the Spirit Hall Empire: Bibi Dong.

She did not deliberately release pressure, yet the intangible aura of the Rakshasa God covered the entire plaza like the vast might of heaven.

The air seemed frozen. Everyone present felt awe and trembling from the depth of their souls, compelled to bow.

Divine might like a prison—boundless and overwhelming!

 Behind her and slightly to the side, the Saintess Hu Liena stood in quiet attendance.

Clad in splendid saintly attire, her beauty was peerless. Under Bibi Dong’s tutelage, her bearing now held a faint air of sovereign grace and decisiveness.

Bringing Hu Liena to such an occasion spoke for itself—Hu Liena was the designated, unshakable successor.

Bibi Dong’s deep, cold gaze swept over the colossal army below. Her vermilion lips parted, and a clear, commanding voice carried to all present:

“Warriors of the Empire!”

Just the opening line ignited the crowd.

“Heaven Dou now submits beneath the feet of our Spirit Hall Empire. Yet the continent’s strife is not quelled. Star Luo clings on stubbornly. Traitors and bandits band together, dreaming of blocking our path to unification. Such obstinate fools must be ground to dust by thunderous force.”

Her voice suddenly rose, brooking no dissent:

 “Today, We command you to push westward. Aim the spearhead at Star Luo. With your wrath, burn away all who dare to set ant-arms against the Empire’s chariot.”

With her words, fervor swept the square.

Bibi Dong swept her arm and began to name forces:

 “For this campaign: ten legions of the Temple Guard, two hundred thousand of the Sacred Imperial Army, and three hundred thousand consolidated levies from the kingdoms and duchies—six hundred thousand strong, the bedrock of our Empire.”

“The Soul Master Legions will march with the army, including the Angel Legion, the Holy Dragon Legion, the Flame Hawk Legion… Eight Soul Master Legions in total—ten thousand soul masters—to blaze trails and crush enemy lines.”

Her eyes fell on the formations radiating far greater power:

“The newly established Seven Sects—Holy Dragon, Wind Sword, Black Tiger, Fire Leopard, Rock Antelope, Wasp, and Elephant Armor—you are the Empire’s sinew and bone. In this war, show the continent what it means to face the Empire’s edge.”

Led by Huyan Zhen, the strongmen of the seven sects answered in unison, shaking the land.

Finally, her gaze settled on those fearsome figures at the very front below the dais, exuding terrifying soul power fluctuations.

“Elders of the Elder Hall, hear Our command.”

Headed by Ghost Douluo Gui Mei and Chrysanthemum Douluo Yue Guan, nearly ten Titled Douluo bowed together, their surging soul power warping the air.

“You shall accompany Our personal campaign. Target: the Star Luo imperial capital. We will see with Our own eyes how long that Dai royal family’s hard bones can endure beneath Our divine might.”

“Long live! Long live! Long live!”

A mountain-shaking roar erupted to the heavens, making all Spirit City tremble.

Six hundred thousand troops, ten thousand soul masters, seven great sects, nearly ten Titled Douluo—and a god personally commanding.

Such power could crush any known resistance on the continent.

Banners where the golden Angel sigil and the purple-black Rakshasa emblem intertwined fluttered—symbols of unmatched power and will.

The army set forth.

Like an unstoppable flood of iron, with the momentum to destroy all in its path, it rolled toward the Star Luo Empire.

…

In Star Luo’s imperial palace hall, the air was so heavy it could be wrung into water.

When word arrived that Bibi Dong had assembled the Spirit Hall’s Soul Master Legions and hundreds of thousands of troops, with the new Seven Great Sects and many Elder Hall Titled Douluo, and was pressing on Star Luo’s border like rolling black thunderclouds, the hall fell into dead silence.

Emperor Dai Yutian sat high upon the throne, a gloom and resolve that could not be dispelled between his brows.

Below him had gathered all the power on the continent that could still counter Spirit Hall: Heaven Dou remnants Prince Xue Xing and Crown Prince Xue Beng, protected by Poison Douluo Dugu Bo.

Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect Master Ning Fengzhi with Sword Douluo Chen Xin and Bone Douluo Gu Rong.

Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect Master, Thunder Douluo Yu Yuanzhen.

Shrek Academy’s Flender, Liu Erlong, Yu Xiaogang—and the now-grown Tang San, Dai Mubai, Oscar, Ma Hongjun, Xiao Wu, Ning Rongrong, Zhu Zhuqing.

Even the Clear Sky Sect’s Howling Sky Douluo Tang Xiao had arrived.

And from a parallel world, Shrek’s group—Xuan Zi and three Super Douluo, Ma Xiaotao, Han Ruoruo, Ning Tian, Wu Feng, Xu Sanshi, and other young elites—stood among them. Their presence added an anomaly—and a subtle hope.

“Spirit Hall… just couldn’t wait.”

Dai Yutian’s low voice broke the suffocating silence.

He swept his gaze over the crowd, lingering especially on Ning Fengzhi, Yu Yuanzhen, and Tang Xiao.

“We thought Bibi Dong would need at least a few years to digest Heaven Dou’s territory. Who knew she wouldn’t grant even a moment to catch our breath.”

Repressed murmurs spread through the hall.

Bibi Dong’s thunderous methods had completely disrupted their original plans.

Ning Fengzhi’s brows were tightly knit. At his side, Sword Douluo stood with arms folded, eyes sharp as blades, yet tinged with gloom.

Their original plan was to seek Sea God Island and let those with the aptitude attempt to inherit divinity, gaining power to match the Angel and Rakshasa gods.

But with Spirit Hall’s army upon them, the thing they lacked most—time—had become a luxury.

“God trials require time; passing them needs opportunity. With the enemy at the gates… we have no time.”

Ning Fengzhi’s voice carried a trace of weariness.

This truth weighed on every heart—faced with Spirit Hall’s two gods, they could hardly see any chance of victory.

Chapter 402: Bibi Dong Strikes

Xuan Zi took a swig of liquor, his rugged face somber.

He truly hadn’t expected the Spirit Hall Empire here to be so ferocious.

He swept a look over the young students he’d brought.

It seemed that to safely obtain divine inheritances in this world, they’d have to get past Spirit Hall first.

Xuan Zi thought grimly—they’d been drawn into the vortex, unable to stay aloof.

“At this point, there’s only war.”

Dai Mubai rose sharply, a white tiger phantom flashing behind him, unyielding fire blazing in his eyes.

“We will never surrender without a fight.”

“Boss Dai is right.”

Tang San stood slowly, gaze firm, sweeping over his companions and every strong soul master present.

“We have no retreat—and must not quail before battle. Spirit Hall is strong, but not a monolith. If we stand together, there may yet be a sliver of life.”

His words kindled hot blood in many, especially for Star Luo’s royals and Heaven Dou’s remnants—they had no way back.

Others might choose submission; they, bearing state and family hatred, could only fight to the death.

Yet beneath the rousing surface, undercurrents surged.

Ning Fengzhi’s gaze brushed, for an instant, with Ning Tian from the parallel world.

In Ning Tian’s eyes were concern and a hint—withdraw.

Take the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect through the time-space channel to Ning Tian’s world, avoiding this nearly unwinnable war.

The idea was tempting.

As a sect master, he had to safeguard the sect’s inheritance.

The sect’s support abilities were treasures in war, but also prime targets for the enemy.

But not now.

 Ning Fengzhi warned himself.

To flee at this moment would shove Star Luo, Heaven Dou’s remnants, the Clear Sky Sect, the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect, and Shrek Academy into desperate straits. The Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect would bear eternal infamy and find no footing in any world.

His fingers tapped the armrest. A more prudent, more righteous plan took shape—fight, they must.

The Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect would go all-out, standing with allies against Spirit Hall.

But at the same time, they must prepare in secret.

Once the battle collapsed beyond repair—if it truly became hopeless—only then would they enact a withdrawal.

Thus, they’d honor their allies and preserve the sect’s spark for revival.

He tilted his head slightly, sending a look only Sword and Bone Douluo would understand.

The two elder guardians of the sect nodded faintly, grasping their lord’s choice—fight to the last moment, yet keep one final path of life.

Within the hall, the hawkish voices gradually unified.

Dai Yutian began deploying forces, assigning lines of defense. The leaders of each faction pledged to commit their strength to this seemingly hopeless war for survival.

War’s shadow had settled over all Star Luo.

And beneath the brave resolve to die stood human calculus and factional self-interest, quietly sprouting—waiting to reveal their true faces amid blood and fire.

…

Star Luo border, Luoxia Plains.

Where once lay golden seas of grass to the horizon, there now churned dark masses of troops and the lights of soul skills.

Shouts of battle, beastly roars, clashing steel, and the thunder of colliding soul skills intertwined into a grand, bloody symphony of war.

The Spirit Hall Empire’s six-hundred-thousand-strong army advanced like a precise, pitiless war machine—Soul Master Legions as the spearhead, regular legions as the wings, layer by layer pushing forward.

The disciples of the new Seven Great Sects—Holy Dragon, Elephant Armor, and others—tore open gaps in the lines with powerful martial souls and flawless coordination, sweeping all before them.

On Star Luo’s side, Dai Yutian commanded on the front line, leading Star Luo elites and Heaven Dou remnants in desperate resistance.

Soldiers clung to hastily prepared defenses, their flesh and blood against Spirit Hall’s iron flood.

Every inch of land was bought with blood.

High above, the battles between Titled Douluo were breathtaking.

Sword Douluo’s Seven Kills Sword shone brilliantly. Under Ning Fengzhi’s full support, his sword qi spanned a thousand meters, holding off multiple Elder Hall opponents single-handedly.

Bone Douluo vanished and reappeared like a ghost, his massive bone dragon stirring the field.

Yet this tenuous balance was shattered by a single order.

Far from the fray, Lu Jingming, Gu Yuena, and Qian Renxue stood upon the clouds, gazing down upon the carnage.

Qian Renxue’s golden eyes showed neither joy nor sorrow, as if watching a play unrelated to herself.

“It seems, left to themselves, they can’t bring this drama to a close.”

Her cool voice sounded; she turned slightly.

“Worship Hall—act. End this futile resistance quickly.”

“As you command, Young miss.”

A deep, elderly voice replied.

In the next instant, six figures like blazing suns shot skyward from the rear of Spirit Hall’s army. An unimaginably terrifying soul pressure blanketed the battlefield—darkening even the sky.

They were the Spirit Hall’s Worship Hall—the six worships, excluding the already sacrificed Qian Daoliu.

Seeing the six worships move, Bibi Dong, who had been seated in the rear without acting, narrowed her eyes.

She had thought Qian Renxue would not intervene, but now it seemed she had underestimated her daughter’s breadth of mind.

Headed by the Second Worship, Golden Crocodile Douluo, they moved with clear targets. The enormous Golden Crocodile phantom, heavy with primordial aura, charged straight for the strongest present—Xuan Zi.

“Hmph. Outsider—let this old man see what you can do.”

Golden Crocodile’s voice thundered. He slammed into Xuan Zi, transformed into the Godly Taotie Bull. The shock waves felled ranks of ordinary soldiers below.

Meanwhile, a streak of extreme cold flashed like a whisper of death, slipping silently across the chaos straight for Thunder Douluo Yu Yuanzhen, who was locked in battle with the Holy Dragon Sect Master.

Lightning flared around Yu Yuanzhen’s dragonified form, power brimming—but his old wounds hadn’t healed, and he was a fraction too slow.

A sick thud—steel through flesh and bone.

Yu Yuanzhen shuddered violently, eyes wide as he looked down at the arrow of pure ice-attribute soul power lodged in his heart. Freezing cold instantly locked his blood and soul power.

Glowing Feather Douluo appeared in the distance, divine bow in hand, eyes frigid.

“Father!”

Yu Xiaogang, commanding the army, let out a soul-rending howl, eyes red.

The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect Master, Thunder Douluo Yu Yuanzhen—had fallen.

His death was a signal, opening the floodgates to life-and-death duels among Titled Douluo.

Elder Hall’s Spirit Kite Douluo, seeing Sword Douluo tied down by many, trusted her speed and turned into a fiery kite streaking straight for Ning Fengzhi in the rear.

“Courting death.”

Sword Douluo’s gaze turned razor-cold. The Seven Kills intent erupted to its peak.

“Seventh Soul Skill—Seven Kills True Body!”

With Ning Fengzhi’s all-aspect amplification pushing eighty percent, Chen Xin became one with his sword. A sky-spanning blade of light struck faster than the flame-kite could fly, severing it cleanly.

A shrill avian scream cut off midair.

Spirit Kite Douluo, a Spirit Hall Elder, was cleaved in two, dying in the sky.

Elsewhere, Poison Douluo Dugu Bo’s domineering Jade Phosphor poison struggled against his old acquaintance, Chrysanthemum Douluo Yue Guan.

The Chrysanthemum blazed with golden light, constantly purifying and canceling the toxins. A rain of petal-blades pressed Dugu Bo into dire straits.

Across the field, every Titled Douluo found a match.

Clear Sky’s Tang Xiao, Howling Sky Douluo, fought two Elders alone, the Clear Sky Hammer’s dominance giving him the upper hand.

The three Super Douluo from the parallel Shrek faced off with Lion, Azure Luan, and other worships. Though outmatched in cultivation, they did not immediately falter.

However, once the six worships fully entered the fray, the scales irreversibly tipped.

Super Douluo strength was not something ordinary Titled Douluo could match.

Under the ferocity of Golden Crocodile, Azure Luan, Lion, and others, Star Luo’s top combat power began to buckle.

Xuan Zi was pinned by Golden Crocodile, wounds gouging the Godly Taotie Bull’s hide.

Sword and Bone Douluo, mighty under Ning Fengzhi’s support, still faced overwhelming numbers—barely holding on.

Below, the army was in full retreat, lines compressed and torn.

Spirit Hall’s legions advanced over Star Luo corpses, step by step.

Defeat was a landslide.

Emperor Dai Yutian watched his generals and soldiers fall, watched Titled Douluo tumble from the sky, eyes bloodshot with despair.

He understood—the tide had turned.

Luoxia Plains would likely be Star Luo’s burial ground.

On the clouds, Qian Renxue watched, her lips curving in a faintly indifferent arc.

Bibi Dong still sat high upon her palanquin, coolly observing, as if enjoying a drama of destruction of her own direction.

Just as Star Luo’s lines were about to collapse entirely—and Xuan Zi and others were about to fail under Golden Crocodile’s onslaught—two vast yet utterly distinct auras surged up from the rear of the Star Luo forces.

One burned hot and holy, like blazing justice; the other was gentle and immense, like a romantic epic embracing all.

“My Lord on high.”

A clear cry rang across the battlefield, and a figure shrouded in white brilliance appeared first.

She held an iris battle standard, radiant with tangible light of faith—the long-hidden saint—Jeanne d’Arc.

She thrust the standard into the air; a massive sacred barrier unfolded instantly, blocking Golden Crocodile’s land-splitting lethal blow.

At the same time, countless golden threads appeared, elegant and precise, winding toward Azure Luan, Lion, and several worships. The strange law power upon the threads stalled their vast soul power, slowing their movements in an instant.

Aglaea stepped on the void. She smiled faintly at the worships whose faces had changed: “This path, for now, is closed.”

These two servant-heroes at half-god level finally acted.

They hadn’t wished to meddle too deeply in this world’s war—but with their Master in peril, they had to intervene.

Yet their aim wasn’t slaughter; it was rescue and withdrawal.

Jeanne’s standard swept, sacred light falling upon Xuan Zi, Ma Xiaotao, and the Shrek group, giving them powerful protection.

Aglaea waved her jade hands, more gold threads twining about Han Ruoruo and others.

“Go!”

Jeanne kept it brief, but her eyes were heavy as they looked toward the very rear of Spirit Hall.

The moment they intervened, a divine might far more terrifying than all six worships combined—brimming with endless malice and filth—awoke like a sleeping beast and descended.

“Vermin from another realm, you dare meddle in Our war?”

Bibi Dong’s ice-cold voice seemed to rise from the Nine Hells.

A giant phantom scythe wreathed in purple-black miasma split the sky, swinging down upon Jeanne and Aglaea with godly power that judged all beings and defiled all things.

The Rakshasa Scythe.

The two servants’ faces shifted; they struck together.

Jeanne’s iris standard erupted with soaring holy light; before Aglaea, a shield woven of golden threads appeared.

A thunderous detonation.

The clash of god-level power darkened the sky. Space rippled as if unable to bear it.

Jeanne and Aglaea wavered slightly—unharmed, but with graver eyes.

They were not true gods; even they felt the immense pressure of Bibi Dong’s angry blow.

“Take them first.”

Aglaea murmured to Jeanne, hands weaving sigils. More golden threads entwined the giant scythe, buying time.

Jeanne did not hesitate. With a sweep of her standard, sacred power wrapped Ning Tian, Han Ruoruo, Ma Xiaotao, and all Shrek members, turning them into a streak of light fleeing afar.

Xuan Zi didn’t dally either—he flashed into a yellow beam, turning tail while Aglaea held the line.

Glancing back in terror, he saw the Rakshasa Scythe’s aftershock shear through the space where he’d stood—space itself corroded into cracks. Even this Super Douluo’s guts turned to water; any last sliver of wishful thinking vanished.

Bibi Dong’s true body hadn’t fully manifested, but the Rakshasa Scythe, like the extension of her will, pressed the attack after repelling the two servants.

It swung again, now over the head of Howling Sky Douluo Tang Xiao, who was struggling against two Elders.

Tang Xiao roared and raised the massive Clear Sky Hammer, pushing the Great Sumeru Hammer to its utmost to resist.

But before god-level power, even a super Douluo’s all-out blow was paltry.

The hammer’s thunder could not check the Rakshasa Scythe.

Chapter 403: Bei Bei’s Resolve

Purple-black light flickered.

A head—face twisted in rage and unwillingness—spun into the air. Blood fountained from the headless neck.

The Clear Sky Sect’s current master, Howling Sky Douluo Tang Xiao—dead.

“Uncle—!!!”

In the distance, as Flender, Liu Erlong, and others fought desperately to cover a retreating Tang San, he saw the brutal scene with his own eyes. His pupils went scarlet in an instant. Unparalleled hatred erupted like a volcano, tearing at his reason.

One of the few blood kin he still had in this world.

The killing went on.

Several royal worships of Star Luo fell one after another under the combined assault of spirit hall’s six worships and many Elders, blood spattering the sky.

On another front, the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect’s withdrawal was decisive and efficient.

At the instant Bibi Dong’s divine might erupted, Ning Fengzhi said without hesitation, “Uncle Sword, Uncle Bone—go.”

Without a second’s delay, Sword Douluo unleashed his sword qi domain; countless blades of qi stormed outward, forcing back his entangling foes for a moment.

Bone Douluo ripped space itself; a giant bone-dragon claw snatched Ning Fengzhi and core disciples, then stepped into the void.

Several Elders attempted pursuit, but Chen Xin’s cold backward slash forced them to halt.

Remembering how Spirit Kite Douluo had been cut down in one stroke and facing Sword Douluo’s killing gaze, they balked from chasing deep, only watching as the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect vanished from the chaotic field.

Not all Titled Douluo were so lucky.

At the battlefield’s edge, Poison Douluo Dugu Bo spread his Jade Phosphor poison, driving off several Soul Douluo-tier foes. Seeing the tide turned, he flashed into a green streak to flee.

“Old poison, where do you think you’re going?”

A silky voice sounded. A golden waterfall of Chrysanthemum petals fell, blocking his path.

Yue Guan emerged amid the rain of flowers, eyes complicated as he looked upon his lifelong rival.

At the same time, two figures sealed Dugu Bo’s flanks.

On the left, the Porcupinefish Douluo swelled, poison sacs pulsing, stench no weaker than the Jade Phosphor’s.

On the right, Snake Lance Douluo leveled a long spear, its tip locking onto Dugu Bo’s qi.

“Yue Guan—ganging up is the Spirit Hall way?”

Dugu Bo’s face was grim—he knew this wouldn’t end well.

Porcupinefish cackled, “Dugu Bo, your poison’s not much use on us.”

Snake Lance said coldly, “Submit, and you might keep a whole corpse.”

“Hmph!”

Dugu Bo snorted. The Jade Phosphor Serpent Emperor true body rose, vast coils roiling toxic clouds.

“I’ve roamed this continent a lifetime—would I beg from hounds like you? If you want my life—pay with your own!”

Battle erupted instantly.

Knowing it was the end, Dugu Bo used nothing but kill-or-be-killed moves, spewing venom without limit to corrode everything.

Porcupinefish countered poison with poison, devouring and neutralizing toxins; Snake Lance’s extreme speed and penetration made the spear a striking viper, gouging deep wounds in the serpent’s armored scales.

The main assault came from Yue Guan.

“Ninth Soul Skill—Chrysanthemum Withers, Wounds Blanket the Ground, Petals Fall and Entrails Break!”

At last, he used his strongest technique.

Innumerable golden petals turned into the sharpest blades, a destructive golden storm engulfing the Jade Phosphor Serpent’s colossal form.

Scales shattered; blood sprayed.

Dugu Bo’s defenses were torn open; his true body forced to fade. He staggered back, covered in bone-deep wounds, aura withering.

He looked at the closing Yue Guan, a flicker of irony in his eyes. “To die by your hand… is better than by nameless rabble…”

Yue Guan was silent for a beat. A golden chrysanthemum blade formed in his hand. He said softly, “Old poison—safe travels.”

A flash of gold.

The blade pierced Dugu Bo’s heart.

A generation’s Poison Douluo—fallen.

…

In rugged mountain passes, Tang San’s group fled under cover of night and forest.

Relentless battle, the grief of fallen kin and friends, and the strain of flight had nearly broken this battered remnant.

Just as they rounded a hollow, believing themselves briefly safe, figures blocked the road ahead.

Moonlight fell, showing their faces clearly—Huo Yuhao’s stern expression, older Xiao Wu’s lively gaze at his side, and the steady presences of Bei Bei and Tang Ya.

And most striking of all, a man leaning with folded arms against the rock, eyes half-closed, seemingly detached yet radiating invisible pressure—Jing Yuan.

“Stop!”

Tang San’s hand snapped up, his voice hoarse but wary.

Their fleeing column tightened. Dai Mubai and Ma Hongjun moved to the front. Oscar swiftly made recovery sausages and passed them out. Zhu Zhuqing and Ning Rongrong guarded the flanks. Xiao Wu pressed tight to Tang San. Yu Xiaogang, Flender, and Liu Erlong entered battle stances.

When Tang San’s gaze locked onto Huo Yuhao’s face, an uncontrollable surge of fury and humiliation crashed over his mind, reddening his eyes.

It was him—the one who had killed him again and again in the simulated universe with all manner of methods, making him experience countless deaths and humiliations.

Those memories were nightmare-deep in his soul. Normally suppressed—now, with enemies meeting, the lava of hate erupted.

“It’s you!”

Tang San ground the words out, fingers already on the deadliest hidden weapons in his Twenty-Four Moonlit Bridges—Stormpear Blossom Needles, Peacock Plume… His Xuantian skill roared; his killing intent was nearly tangible.

At Tang San’s side, Xiao Wu’s gaze was drawn, despite herself, to the figure beside Huo Yuhao.

It was another, more mature version of herself—the same scorpion-tail braid, the same lovely face—but with pink eyes holding an emotion she couldn’t fathom.

In the instant their eyes met, a chill rose from the depths of Xiao Wu’s soul. She trembled, as if facing a nemesis, as if she’d glimpsed a fixed, ill fate. A sense of looming catastrophe clutched her heart.

“That bastard!”

Dai Mubai recognized Huo Yuhao, a white tiger phantom flickering behind him.

Ma Hongjun blazed up, phoenix flames flaring.

The hot-tempered Liu Erlong, seeing Huo Yuhao, had her anger surge in a heartbeat. She roared:

“You little wretch dare show yourself—come pay with your life!”

She was about to charge with Fire Dragon possession.

“Erlong—calm down.”

Flender clamped her arm. “This isn’t the time for rashness.”

“Let me go, Boss Flender—I’ll kill him!” Liu Erlong struggled.

“Erlong, listen.” Yu Xiaogang’s voice was hoarse and heavy. He pressed her shoulder, eyes full of weariness and helplessness.

“We’re defeated soldiers, fleeing for our lives. Any needless clash could wipe us all out.”

The Grandmaster’s authority and reason finally kept Liu Erlong in check—she stomped, eyes blazing at Huo Yuhao, but didn’t rush forward.

Yu Xiaogang stepped up, gaze passing over Huo Yuhao’s group, finally settling on the obvious leader—Huo Yuhao. He asked in a low voice:

“You bar our path—what is your intent?”

Huo Yuhao’s mouth curved in a cold arc, a smile without warmth, only naked contempt and killing intent.

For reasons unknown, from the first time he’d seen Tang San in the simulated universe, a primal, causeless disgust had welled up within him—spilling over onto the rest of Shrek’s Seven Devils.

He couldn’t be bothered to probe why—and didn’t care.

In his eyes, the people before him were merely pitiful soon-to-be dead.

“Our intent?”

He sneered. Scarlet light burst in his spirit eyes.

“To send you… where you belong.”

Before the last word fell, he traced the air with one hand. A giant gray-white gate of deathly cold opened behind him amid grating bone-scrapes and the wails of the dead.

The gate to the half-plane of Undeath yawned open.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The heavy, even drum of hooves sounded like a funeral knell upon the heart.

First out was a square phalanx of undead knights.

They wore rusted yet sturdy armor, soul-flames of azure burning in their sockets, wielding death-wreathed lances and greatswords.

Most chilling, above the skulls of both riders and their skeletal steeds hovered faint gold halos—undead imbued with light, created by Electrolux.

They combined undead fearlessness with restraint toward the living, and resistance to holy power.

Behind them surged tides of skeletal soldiers with bone blades and shields.

Lurching, reeking zombies, slow but strong.

Liches floated in the air, bone staves in hand, chanting eerie spells.

And overhead, several bone dragons beat vast wings, casting shadows of despair.

Master of an entire undead half-plane, Huo Yuhao—though not yet at peak cultivation—already possessed army-level might in himself.

With this endless undead host, he dared face true Titled Douluo—let alone this battered, soul-power-drained remnant before him.

The Scourge of Undeath bared its fangs in the silent gorge.

Cold death-chill spread, sealing Tang San’s last road.

As the gate yawned and the unending dead flooded out, turning the narrow path into an underworld, Bei Bei’s face went ashen.

He whipped toward Huo Yuhao, voice trembling with anger and shock:

 “Yuhao, what are you doing?! We agreed—only to take the Blue Silver Emperor bone from Tang San, to restore Xiao Ya’s life—why must you drive them to extinction?!”

His anxious eyes swept Tang San’s ready ranks—pausing for an instant on Yu Xiaogang and Liu Erlong—his gaze complex, struggling.

They were, after all, his own blood’s forebears.

“Besides… among them, there’s…” Bei Bei’s voice faltered, tinged with plea.

“Hmph.”

Huo Yuhao cut him off with a cold snort.

His spirit eyes, filled with endless ice and pressure, swept over Bei Bei with a cruel clarity and mockery.

“Senior brother—you’re too naive.”

His voice was ice, without the slightest give.

“You must have considered this: the Blue Silver Emperor bone has clearly been fully refined by Tang San—merged with his right leg. To take it, you’d have to sever limb and shatter bone. That would cripple him. With such hatred, you expect him to laugh it off and not seek revenge later?”

His words flayed the bloody truth, layer by layer:

 “Don’t forget—these people before us, on the original path of history, became gods. Who can guarantee that even now, in such a desperate plight, they won’t gain some heaven-defying fortune and soar? When that happens—you, me, Teacher Xiao Ya… who can bear a god’s wrath?”

His gaze stabbed at the deepest fear in Bei Bei’s heart:

“Will you gamble Teacher Xiao Ya’s future safety on a moment’s mercy? Since we’ve chosen to act, we must pull the grass up by the roots and leave no future bane. Today—not one of them walks away.”

“I…”

Bei Bei jolted as if thunderstruck.

Each word hammered his heart.

He looked at Tang Ya at his side—her eyes still somewhat vacant, fingers clinging to his clothes. Panic seized him.

Yes—he couldn’t risk it.

He couldn’t wager even a sliver of Xiao Ya’s safety.

Leave survivors today, and tomorrow’s mortal threat is assured. For Xiao Ya… so that she may live…

Bei Bei bit down hard on his lip—nearly to blood.

He struggled. In the end, the last hesitation in his eyes hardened into icy resolve.

He raised his head slowly. Meeting Tang San’s shocked, angry gaze, he closed his eyes in pain—and when he opened them again, only heavy apology and unshakable determination remained.

“I’m sorry…”

His voice was low and hoarse, laden with guilt—yet utterly clear.

“For Xiao Ya… I cannot… leave any risk.”

In the end, he chose to stand with Huo Yuhao—even at the price of burying the source of his own bloodline with his own hands.