Tang Hao 's third, fourth, and fifth soul rings shattered one after another in bursts of horrifying power. His aura surged like a volcano erupting, unstable yet unstoppable.
The valley itself trembled under his might. The air itself screamed.
Faced with this madness, the three Spirit Hall titans exchanged a single look. None dared underestimate him any longer.
Almost simultaneously, they released their Martial Soul Avatars.
Ghost Douluo's thin frame swelled with eerie energy, his form dissolving into shadow."Seventh Soul Skill: Ghost Demon Spirit Avatar!"A towering, transparent phantom of a specter rose behind him, wailing with a sound that could shatter minds.
Chrysanthemum Douluo flicked his wrist as petals erupted like a storm, his elegant martial soul blooming to its ultimate form."Seventh Soul Skill: Golden Pistil Cloud!"Above his head, a chrysanthemum larger than a mountain unfolded, scattering countless petals that spun like blades, each glimmering with deadly beauty.
And then, Qian Xunji moved.
A golden radiance engulfed his body, his figure elongating, wings of light unfurling behind him. His eyes glowed like molten suns as an angelic phantom descended, towering over the battlefield."Seventh Soul Skill: Seraphim Avatar!"
The golden radiance of Qian Xunji's Angelic Domain spread outward, sacred hymns whispering faintly in the air, its brilliance designed to banish corruption, negate killing intent, and suppress despair.
But then… it flickered.
Like a candle in a storm, the light of the angel trembled and broke apart, swallowed by the abyss. The deathly aura surged back, stronger than before, pressing down upon heaven's holy power as if mocking it.
Qian Xunji's pupils contracted."...Impossible—"
Before he could finish, Tang Hao was already there.
The Clear Sky Hammer descended with a scream of air being ripped apart, wrapped in the power of the Disorder Splitting Sky Hammer. His arms were swollen with veins, his face twisted in grief and rage.
BOOM!
The ground quaked as the first blow landed on the ground. Sparks of golden and crimson-black scattered like dying stars.
Then came the second strike. Then the third.
The valley floor shattered into deep ravines. The shockwaves alone sent the Soul Douluos and Soul Sages rolling on the ground, coughing blood.
Ghost Douluo and Chrysanthemum Douluo lunged in desperation, their avatars unleashing soul skills in tandem—petals of cutting gold and ghosts that exploded in sinister bursts.
But Tang Hao's hammer swept once, then twice.
BOOOOOM—!!!
The giant chrysanthemum shattered like glass. Ghostly phantoms howled before dissipating. The two Super Douluo were hurled like broken dolls across the valley, their bodies slamming into stone cliffs. Blood spilled from their lips, their auras flickering weakly.
Even Ghost Douluo, whose very avatar granted intangibility against ordinary strikes, felt his body ache with tearing wounds. Tang Hao's hammer had smashed straight through his defenses—because what he faced was not merely brute force, but grief sharpened into inevitability.
Qian Xunji's face twisted in fury. He raised a hand, summoning all of his power. His ninth ring, the abyssal black, pulsed like a heartbeat.
"Ninth Soul Skill: Angel's Wrath!"
From his palm, golden-white flames burst forth, mingling with a searing holy radiance that condensed into a blazing orb of destruction.
The valley illuminated as if dawn had descended—but in the heart of that light, a shadow moved forward.
Tang Hao advanced step by step, his hammer gripped in both hands. His red eyes were unnervingly calm now, the calm of a man who had already lost everything.
And then he whispered, almost reverently:"Great Sumer Hammer."
The words echoed like a death knell.
His spirit power compressed violently, condensing into his body and flooding into the Clear Sky Hammer.
The weapon screamed, covered in crimson veins of light, as if it could not bear the force contained within it.
This was the forbidden technique of the Clear Sky Clan—taught only to one genius per generation. A technique that turned everything, even one's future, into a single overwhelming blow.
The ground beneath Tang Hao's feet cratered as he raised the hammer, his body trembling with the burden. Yet his grip never faltered.
He locked his now crimson eyes onto Qian Xunji as they approached each other for a clash.
----
Two mountains away from the clash, in a secluded place where the wind carried faint echoes of the battle, stood a tall tree. Its gnarled branches stretched wide, half-shielded by layers of swaying leaves. Atop one such branch sat a girl, her golden-blonde hair fluttering in the wind like silken threads of sunlight.
To her side a small parrot, dozing peacefully, its tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. Qian Renxue's slender fingers absently stroked its feathers, yet her purple eyes never strayed from the battlefield in the distance.
"Even with the boost given by immortal herbs," she remarked, her voice quiet, almost amused, "Chrysanthemum Douluo and Ghost Douluo are still overwhelmed."
Her lips curved faintly, but the light in her eyes sharpened into a serious glint. "If not for my recent contact with the power of faith, even I would not have discerned it… Tang Hao is receiving aid." She narrowed her gaze, almost as if she could pierce through the layers of distance and see the faint crimson brilliance cloaking the man. "That is divine power—I'm sure it is the Asura God's blessing."
Her voice dropped, contemplative. "My inference was correct after all. Gods of the Divine Realm can interfere directly with the mortal world, but only through vessels who bear a fragment of their power."
" As Tang Hao had obtained the Death God domain from Slaughter City... he is a good anchor."