Qian Renxue carefully picked it up, her voice was barely above a whisper.
"He kept this quill… even until his death."
Bibi Dong heard the words— But did not understand them. Before she could ask, Qian Renxue turned around.
Their eyes met.
For the first time, Bibi Dong truly looked at her daughter carefully and her heart jolted.
Behind Qian Renxue's back unfurled twelve radiant wings, each feather shimmering with divinity. Behind her head floated seven Divine Soul Rings, their golden light bending reality itself.
Her face—It felt familiar, yet impossibly distant.
As if she were gazing at both her daughter and a god at the same time.
"Do you truly understand," Qian Renxue turned back and asked calmly,
"what the Angel Goddess represents?"
The question struck like lightning.
Following the question, the moment Bibi Dong truly looked into Qian Renxue's purple eyes— it felt that her world shattered.
Memories burst forth uncontrollably, like a dam collapsing under centuries of suppressed emotion.
She saw—
A little girl standing barefoot in an impoverished village, her clothes patched and worn. The girl's eyes, however, burned with an unusual clarity. When her Martial Soul awakened, two shadows rose behind her.
Twin Martial Souls.
She was taken away by a strong-looking Soul Master, the village shrinking behind her as destiny pulled her forward without asking for consent.
She entered Spirit Hall.
She was accepted as a disciple.
She trained relentlessly— Sweat, blood, exhaustion.
Strength and recognition followed.
Then— A studious young man appeared.
He approached her with warmth, with ideals, with dreams of reform. She trusted him. Opened Spirit Hall's secrets to him, believing they walked the same path.
She planned to elope and escape. But destiny twisted again and her master stopped her.
What followed was not a memory she wanted to remember. It was violation and helplessness.
There was only silence forced into her throat.
A child was born from that night, who she could never bring herself to accept.
The shame, resentment and hatred piled endlessly.
She fled to Slaughter City, a place soaked in blood and madness, where evil Soul Masters were sealed away to protect the continent.
There, in despair and rage, she received a divine inheritance.
From that moment onward, her path bent sharply.
From that moment— She began plotting the destruction of Spirit Hall.
Bibi Dong understood.
That was her life.
That was the story she had always clung to.
Then— The scene shifted.
She gasped.
A malnourished child stood trembling in a poor village, their small hand clutching the rough, calloused fingers of their parents. Fear filled the parents' eyes—fear of rejection, fear of fate.
A Spirit Hall deacon arrived, for the awakening ceremony
A Martial Soul awakened.
It was not powerful, as it was just a Sickle . But it was usable.
Innate Soul Power: Level 3.
The child smiled.
Not because of greatness—but because hope had appeared.
The child worked hard.
Day after day, with bruised hands and aching bones.
She trained to become a Soul Master not for glory—but to ease the burden on her parents' shoulders.
Then— Bibi Dong saw a story of another child followed by another.
Children from villages, from forgotten corners of the continent.
They were not geniuses, neither prodigies.
Just ordinary people—Who were given a chance.
Her breathing became ragged.
Then she was pulled again. This time—
Into an ancient era. A time drowned in despair.
The land was broken and the sky was dim.
Suffering saturated the air—something the Rakshasa Goddess would have adored.
Yet— The people did not kneel in terror.
They pointed upward, their eyes shone with hope.
High in the sky stood a sole existence, radiant and unwavering.
The Angel Goddess.
As Bibi Dong's knees buckled after the influx of various memories poured by Qian Renxue, at the same time Rakhshasha Goddess divine intent inside Bibi Dong's Spirit sea had Qian Renxue pouring some different memories about a place where much dark thoughts had gathered due to death of powerful beings.
She had enough of God's interference and the memories were the bait thrown by Qian Renxue which will hook the Rakshasha soon enough
Bibi Dong on the other hand collapsed, tears poured freely, raining down her face. Her entire world crumbled.
The belief she had clung to—the hatred that fueled her vengeance— It was nothing more than impotent rage.
If she had succeeded—and Spirit Hall had truly fallen—
She would not have destroyed tyranny.
She would have snuffed out the last hope of countless helpless children in the future.
If the story continued as per the original timeline Spirit Hall would have been really been destroyed.
Bibi Dong sobbed uncontrollably after realizing the truth about her anger.
Her chest hurt as if her heart were being torn apart.
She felt that she could not face Qian Renxue.
Bibi Dong staggered to her feet.
She turned away and ran, back toward Spirit City. Holding back tears that refused to stop falling—
Because she knew— From this moment onward, She would never be able to lie to herself again.
----
Spirit City, Douluo Palace
Within Spirit City, aside from the Elder Hall and the Pope's Hall, there existed another place of even greater importance.
A place that symbolized not authority, but sacrifice. It was known as Douluo Palace.
It was a sanctuary of the strong, a silent domain where Titled Douluo alone were permitted to rest.
Even the Pope—Was forbidden from stepping inside under normal circumstances..
The origins of Douluo Palace predated both the Elder Hall and the Pope's Hall.
So old that its foundations were laid during an era when humanity was still clawing its way out of extinction.