In a corner outside the square, a burly man crouched low. A hat covered his head, and with it lowered, his face couldn't be clearly seen. In one hand, he held a cheap mug of ale, drinking while his sharp gaze fixed on the Pope's Palace square.
His name was Tang Hao—Tang San's father.
After the battle for the Ice and Fire Yin-Yang Well, Tang Hao had been injured. He went in search of Ye Renxin, but because Ye Renxin's whereabouts were unpredictable, only recently did Tang Hao finally find him and receive treatment. Now he had recovered to his peak state—just in time to arrive at Spirit Hall.
Because of his past-life knowledge and memories, Tang Hao trusted Ah San completely.
On his way here, he had heard that the Shrek team had advanced to the semifinals. That news filled Tang Hao with genuine pride for his son. Smiling smugly, he muttered:
"As expected of my son—my pride."
In Tang Hao's eyes, Shrek reaching the semifinals was at least ninety percent thanks to Tang San. After all, his son was the Child of Destiny, a man born to create miracles.
He didn't dare get too close, afraid that Spirit Hall's Title Douluos might sense him. He could only squat far off in a corner, watching his son.
From there, he saw Bibi Dong and the other powerhouses emerge from the Pope's Palace, heard the crowd shouting "Long live the Pope" three times, and saw the masses kneel down one after another—even the Shrek members knelt, one by one.
"Hmph, that useless gangzi, actually kneeling before Bibi Dong. Not like my son," Tang Hao said proudly as he looked toward Tang San… and then froze.
He stared at the figure standing tall in the middle of the square, disbelief clouding his mind. Rubbing his eyes, he used a Title Douluo's keen sight to focus. Slowly, from that dark, coal-black face raised high with pride, he made out familiar traces of Tang San's features.
"That's… Tang San?" Tang Hao's mind short-circuited.
When did Little San get so dark? Was it too much sun, or too much soy sauce? And why did he seem so short? Could it be that Shrek's incompetence had crushed him with too much stress over this time?
Tang Hao took two gulps of his cheap ale before he could accept that this was indeed his son. He didn't know what had happened, but his son was the Child of Destiny—he'd always turn misfortune into fortune. Maybe becoming this dark was some sort of opportunity or inheritance.
"As expected of my son, Tang San. My Tang family are rulers of the Douluo God Realm, the sovereign God-King clan of this continent. How could we ever kneel to ants like Spirit Hall?" Tang Hao said disdainfully.
Of course, he wasn't worried about Tang San. After all, wasn't Yu Xiaogang—still around? That man was Bibi Dong's old flame. The whole reason Tang San had been made to acknowledge him as a master was precisely for this. Now was the time for that chamber pot to serve its purpose.
Back in the square, Tang San stood out like a rooster in a flock. With everyone kneeling, he alone stood, his strange appearance—dark-skinned, ugly, grotesque, with short limbs like some gorilla soul beast escaped from a hunting forest—made him impossible to ignore.
Naturally, Bibi Dong's eyes soon fell on him.
At the same time, countless others turned their gazes toward Tang San. All the Spirit Hall members glared at him angrily.
"Before the Pope, why do you not kneel?" a red-robed cardinal demanded.
Tang San gave no reply. His head remained raised high, like a proud boy refusing to bow.
Bibi Dong frowned, about to speak, when Ning Fengzhi quickly stepped forward:
"Your Holiness the Pope, could you grant me a bit of face, and let me persuade him? Tang San has only just arrived, perhaps he does not yet know the rules."
Elder Chrysanthemum sneered:
"Even someone ignorant of etiquette can see everyone else kneeling respectfully to His Holiness. Clearly, it's not ignorance of rules—it's a lack of respect."
Bibi Dong waved her hand. "Elder Yue Guan is right. But, Sect Master Ning, I'll grant you this face. Please, begin your performance. I'd like to see how you convince this beastman to obey."
Ning Fengzhi bowed. "Many thanks, Your Holiness."
He then exchanged a look with Sword Douluo. Sword Douluo nodded and moved his lips, soundlessly transmitting words to persuade Tang San to kneel.
But Tang San's knees were stiff—he wouldn't bend.
At that moment, Xiao Wu tugged at Tang San's sleeve. Tang San tilted his head slightly, and she looked up at him, worried:
"Ah San giegie, aren't you afraid Spirit Hall will punish you later?"
Seeing her expression, Tang San felt a pang of sorrow deep inside.
Xiao Wu… I know your mother died at Bibi Dong's hands. And yet even so, you're willing to grit your teeth and kneel to her? Don't worry. Ah San giegie will avenge you soon. I won't let you suffer any grievance for long.
So he raised his voice:
"Xiao Wu, as a man of Tang, there is gold beneath my knees. I kneel only to Heaven, Earth, and my parents—not to Spirit Hall's Pope!"
Xiao Wu's expression turned into pure adoration. With the tone of a fangirl worshipping her idol, she exclaimed:
"Wow! Ah San giegie, you're amazing!"
Her praise was like a shot of adrenaline straight into Tang San's heart. Immediately, he felt this was his chance—an opportunity to display his courage in front of Xiao Wu, standing unafraid before her enemy, and to win her heart.
If not for all the eyes upon him, Tang San would already have beaten his chest with his overlong arms and let out a loud male-baboon cry to show off his masculinity.
As Tang San still refused to kneel, Ghost Douluo chuckled darkly:
"Sect Master Ning, our Pope has granted you this face, but it seems some beastmen simply won't buy it."
Yue Guan added with mock sympathy: "Sect Master Ning, perhaps you're right after all. Since he's a beastman, it makes sense he doesn't understand the etiquette of us humans."
"Hmph. Yue Guan, if this beast doesn't understand rules, then show him with human methods what rules mean," Bibi Dong said coldly.
"Yes, Your Holiness." Yue Guan stepped forward.
Sensing danger, Yu Xiaogang quickly shouted:
"Your Holiness the Pope, I don't recall Spirit Hall having any rule that those entering the Pope's Palace must kneel!"
A red-robed cardinal retorted:
"Just because you don't know doesn't mean the rule doesn't exist. Besides," he sneered, "you're only a level-29 Grandmaster. There are plenty of things you don't know."
The number 29 stabbed Yu Xiaogang's heart again like a dagger. He turned to Bibi Dong, pleading:
"Dong'er…"
But Bibi Dong acted as though she hadn't heard him at all.
Yu Xiaogang was just about to call out to Bibi Dong, when suddenly he felt a wave of killing intent directed straight at him. It was as if the moment he spoke, the next instant he would be decapitated.
Yu Xiaogang swallowed hard. He could gamble on the place he held in Bibi Dong's heart, but if the price was his own life… then—sorry, Xiao San, your teacher can only let you suffer for now. It's not that I don't want to help you!
Now it was Tang San's turn to panic. He looked at Yu Xiaogang, who hung his head like a quail, then at Bibi Dong on the platform, who didn't even glance at Yu Xiaogang—and his mind went blank.
Gangzi, why did I ever acknowledge you as my teacher? Was it because of your useless theories? Or your laughable pig-type martial spirit? Or your soul power that could never break past level 29? No! It was because of your old flame with Bibi Dong. Don't you get it? You're nothing but a chamber pot! I, Master Tang San, need you now—how come you're failing me at the critical moment?!
"You barbaric beast, it seems you don't know the meaning of rules. Let me, Yue Guan, teach you what rules are." Chrysanthemum Douluo raised his hand and suddenly exerted force.
In an instant, Tang San felt a mountain-crushing soul power pressing down on him. Without resistance, he was forced to his knees.
At this moment, Tang San's knees struck the ground, his overlong arms pressed against the floor to support his body. From a distance, he looked just like a silverback gorilla.
Our proud boy who swore never to kneel—ah, no, this beastman—this time, his knees finally fell to gravity.
Head lowered, eyes bloodshot, Tang San gasped like an ox, his dark body trembling violently.
Damn you, Chrysanthemum Douluo, you worthless insect. In my past life, I addressed you respectfully as "senior," allowed you to die with dignity. And this is how you treat me, Tang San? You've chosen the path to death! Just wait. When I deal with you in the future, you won't die quickly—I'll make sure you taste endless humiliation and torment before sending you to hell. And you, Gangzi—so useless! You can't even serve as a proper chamber pot!
"Still got some backbone, do you? Then—" Chrysanthemum Douluo suddenly escalated his suppressive force to the level of a Soul Sage.
Tang San had been ready to summon the Clear Sky Hammer to resist, but under this surge he didn't even have the chance to release his martial spirit. He was smashed flat to the ground, hands, knees, and head slammed against the marble floor.
Yu Xiaogang couldn't bear to watch. He turned his flat-top head aside and muttered quietly: "Xiao San, it's not that your teacher doesn't want to help, but… when Spirit Hall demands you kneel, then just kneel. It's not like they're cutting flesh from you. Why be so stubborn? Forget it, forget it, this is a trial you must experience on the path of growth. How about you just endure it for now?"
"Spirit Hall—you dare!"
From afar, Tang Hao saw this scene and suddenly shot to his feet, eyes red, chest heaving as he prepared to summon the Clear Sky Hammer to rescue his son. But just as he was about to act, he realized—he no longer had the Asura God behind him granting him cheats.
His strength was formidable, yes, but against the endless experts of Spirit Hall, his only option would be fleeing with Tang San.
And Ah Yin's spirit bone, her seed of life—both were still in Spirit Hall's hands. He couldn't risk it!
Thinking of this, Tang Hao held himself back. He turned his head away, not looking at Tang San, and said with guilt: "Xiao San, forgive me. It's not that your father doesn't want to help. But you must not miss this Soul Master Tournament. If I intervene, Ah Yin's spirit bone will be lost forever. This is all for your future. Remember, you are the one chosen by the Asura God—this is His trial for you. You'll be fine. Endure it."
Yue Guan looked down at Tang San, prostrated like a dead dog, and coldly snorted. "You refused to shout long live and bow to the Supreme Pontiff? Then don't blame me. Here, on this glorious square before the Pope's Palace, kowtow three times!"
He raised a hand. Tang San's head was lifted high by invisible force—then slammed down. Dong! His skull struck the marble so hard that spiderweb cracks spread across the stone.
Then again: lift, slam. Lift, slam. Three times in total. After the third, Tang San lay pinned like a dead dog against the floor.
Bibi Dong glanced around and said calmly: "Everyone may rise—except that beast."
All stood to their feet—only Tang San remained pinned down, sprawled like a dead dog.
Humiliation. At this moment, Tang San felt unbearable humiliation. But then, a soft voice reached his ears, easing some of the sting.
Xiao Wu's voice, gentle and concerned: "Ah San giegie, are you alright?"
"N-no, I'm fine, Xiao Wu." Tang San's head was forced against the ground, blood flowing out. He struggled to move his lips to reply to her.
"You don't have to do this, Ah San giegie. There's no helping it. You'll just have to endure for now." Xiao Wu said helplessly.
"That's right, Ah San. Spirit Hall has this rule. Why fight it? Look at you now—ah…" Dai Mubai said bitterly, hating iron for not becoming steel. "You can only endure for now."
"Ah San, it's not that we don't want to help, we just can't. So maybe… just endure it first." Ma Hongjun added.
"Ah San, don't you understand? The harder something is, the easier it breaks. A person needs to be flexible. You don't want to kneel—but aren't you kneeling already? Sigh… no choice. Endure it." Oscar sighed.
"Young Master, seeing you in such pain tears my heart apart. I wish I could bear it for you." Tai Long clutched his chest. "But… there's nothing to be done. Please, endure it for now."
Hearing all their words, Tang San's eyes turned red, his breathing ragged. Grinding his teeth, he hissed: "Fine. I'll endure. I'll endure!"
In Tang San's mind, his "must-die list" had always included Yu Tianheng, Feng Xiaotian, Er Ming, Dai Mubai, Dai Weisi, and so on, while Spirit Hall had ranked much lower. But in this instant, this very moment, Spirit Hall shot straight to the top of his death list.
Far away, Tang Hao still couldn't suppress his turmoil. Watching Tang San forced to his knees, his fists clenched tight—then loosened. "Xiao San, remember this humiliation. When you have the strength, take revenge on Spirit Hall."
On the other side, Yu Xiaogang shamelessly muttered under his breath: "Xiao San, may this humiliation turn into your motivation. Strive to become a peerless powerhouse—so that I, your teacher, can bask in your glory and fame."
Bibi Dong's gaze swept over the remaining twenty young Spirit Masters. She said:
"From you all, I see hope. In front of the Pope's Palace, I hope to witness the full extent of your talent and strength. The final victor will receive the greatest reward that the Spirit Hall has to offer."
As she spoke, her scepter lightly waved.
A red-clothed cardinal stepped forward, holding a brocade tray. Upon it rested three spirit bones, displayed openly before everyone present.
These three spirit bones were not large, each shaped like skeletal fragments: the hundred-thousand-year Soft Bone Rabbit Right Arm Bone, the hundred-thousand-year Blue Silver Emperor Right Leg Bone, and the fifty-thousand-year Wisdom Spirit Bone of Mental Condensation.
Two hundred-thousand-year spirit bones, and a head bone of high quality—even Sword Douluo and Ning Fengzhi, men long accustomed to rare treasures, couldn't help but feel moved.
From afar, Tang Hao's hand twitched slightly. For a brief instant, he felt a wild impulse—to charge forward and seize back Ah Yin's spirit bone, as well as the one from the spirit beast he had slain for his ninth ring.
But reason quickly cooled him. Without the support of the Asura God, he had no confidence to force his way into the Spirit Hall now.
Let Xiao San win back Ah Yin's spirit bone through this tournament, Tang Hao told himself grimly. His heart full of hatred, he muttered inwardly:
"Damn Spirit Hall… once Xiao San grows strong, once I ascend as master of this plane, I will see every trace of your existence wiped clean from history."
Tang San could not even lift his head, and thus could not clearly see his mother's spirit bone.
Xiao Wu, however, looked at the pink bone, her eyes misting red. Although Spirit Hall was not her personal enemy, she felt she had a duty to reclaim her mother's relic.
Bibi Dong continued:
"There will only be one victor, only one champion. Thus, these three spirit bones will ultimately belong to the champion team. I hope the academies that enter the top three will go all out to earn this honor."
Countless fiery gazes locked upon the spirit bones. Even Yu Xiaogang eagerly wished his disciple could obtain the Blue Silver Emperor Right Leg Bone to improve his talent.
Turning his head, his eyes coincidentally locked with Lin Chen of the Spark Team.
At that moment, seeing his former disciple again, Yu Xiaogang's heart twisted with hatred—but then, a thought struck him. This was an opportunity. With Bibi Dong right here, he could lodge a complaint, appeal to her authority, and use Spirit Hall's power to take the Golden Holy Dragon back from Lin Chen, thereby changing his own fate.
Thus, though earlier he had only urged Tang San to endure rather than risk danger, now—for his own future—he cast all caution aside. Stepping forward, he cried out:
"Wait, Dong'er—"
Instantly, a vast pressure crushed Yu Xiaogang to his knees. His cropped head struck the ground hard, leaving him dizzy.
"Presumptuous! Before the Pope's Palace, you must respectfully address Her Holiness the Pope," a red-clothed cardinal barked.
Yu Xiaogang's body trembled, overwhelmed by humiliation. Yet for the sake of his future, he had to seize any chance to reclaim his spirit.
Forcing the words out, he said hoarsely:
"Yes… Your Holiness the Pope."
Then, straining to lift his head, Yu Xiaogang looked toward Bibi Dong and declared:
"Your Holiness, the Spirit Hall is the holy land of all Spirit Masters. You are the Pope of our world. I wish to report a vile matter."
Bibi Dong replied coolly:
"Not every matter requires me to handle it personally. Spirit Hall has its own institutions for grievances."
Yu Xiaogang insisted:
"No, Your Holiness! This matter is extremely grave. I must report that Spark Academy has mastered a technique to steal spirits.
My martial spirit, the Golden Holy Dragon, was stolen by Lin Chen. If they can take my spirit, then tomorrow they could hunt down others' spirits without restraint.
As Pope, upheld by tens of thousands of Spirit Masters, you have a duty to protect the interests of hundreds of thousands more. Will you really turn a blind eye to this?"
To secure the return of his Golden Holy Dragon, Yu Xiaogang even claimed to represent the entire Spirit Master world, applying moral pressure to force Spirit Hall to take his side.
Naturally, his words drew immense attention. After all, stealing another's martial spirit was unheard of.
The arena erupted in murmurs and discussion.
"What do you all think?" Bibi Dong did not immediately respond, but instead turned to consult those around her.
By her side stood representatives of the Spirit Master world's top factions.
Yu Xiaogang's accusation gave Ning Fengzhi a thread to pull. In his eyes, both Spirit Hall and Spark Academy were potential enemies. If this matter could pressure Spirit Hall into dealing with Spark, it would pit his enemies against one another.
"Your Holiness," Ning Fengzhi spoke quickly, "if Yu Xiaogang's claim proves true, then Spirit Hall must handle it seriously. The martial spirit is a Spirit Master's very foundation—how can one strip away another's spirit for personal gain?"
At that moment, the Snow Empress's icy gaze fell upon Yu Xiaogang. The weight of her attention made him feel as though he were sinking into an abyss.
"So… you are accusing my Spark Academy?" she asked coldly.
Yu Xiaogang swallowed hard. But recalling this was his only chance to reclaim what he believed was his, he stiffened his neck and forced the words out:
"I am speaking the truth! My Golden Holy Dragon spirit was stolen by one of your academy's students, Lin Chen, through despicable means!"
Suddenly, Yu Xiaomen stood up, pointing down at the kneeling Yu Xiaogang.
"Gangzi! Haven't you disgraced our clan enough? Since when did you ever have a Golden Holy Dragon spirit? Isn't your martial spirit just a pig? Don't try to act grand when you're not—get off the stage already, stop embarrassing us!"
Yu Xiaogang froze, and even Ning Fengzhi was left speechless. For Yu Xiaogang, even if his relationship with Yu Xiaomen was poor, they were still brothers.
Surely, at least in public, Yu Xiaomen should support him. And for Ning Fengzhi, weren't the Upper Three Sects supposed to stand united? He'd just stoked the fire to get Spirit Hall and Spark Academy to clash… and this guy demolished the whole setup?!
Still, Yu Xiaomen had raised a critical point: Yu Xiaogang's martial spirit was not the Golden Holy Dragon.
"Who says my martial spirit isn't the Golden Holy Dragon?" Yu Xiaogang retorted, stiff-necked. "Spirit Hall can prove it!"
He then blurted out the story of how he had gone to Spirit Hall to seek out Bibi Dong, how he had encountered a mysterious woman, obtained the Golden Dragonfruit, and used it to evolve Luo Sanpao into the Golden Holy Dragon.