A calamity.
The entire Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan—over eighteen hundred members—was wiped out overnight.
Only a handful of disciples who happened to be away survived the massacre.
In a single night, one of the illustrious Upper Three Sects, famed as the world's number one beast martial soul clan, was reduced to ashes. The destruction of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan shook the entire soul master world. Everyone lived in fear.
The Spirit Hall publicly ordered a thorough investigation into the culprit. Yet, anyone with eyes could see the truth—aside from Spirit Hall, who else possessed the power and ruthlessness to strike with such thunderous ferocity?
"Four Title Douluo besieged clan head Yu Yuanzhen. His three soul bones were forcibly ripped from him. The three clan elders fell alongside him. None of the clan—men, women, or children—were spared…"
Yu Tianlong clenched his teeth so hard that his silver molars nearly shattered. His voice squeezed out between them like steel grinding against stone:
"One day, I will see Spirit Hall overturned in blood to quench this hatred!"
Around him, dozens of survivors dressed in mourning white wept bitterly.
Yu Tianxin and Yu Tianheng had also rushed to the clan's residence in Heaven Dou City to pay their respects. The once-mighty clan now had only Yu Tianlong and a few dozen scattered kin left—nothing more than the final flickering embers of the Blue Lightning lineage.
Chen Feng sighed deeply, stepping forward to place a firm hand on Yu Tianlong's shoulder. His voice was low and steady:
"Rest assured. The day will come when I overturn Spirit Hall for you. Every last murderer who took part in this will be erased."
It was a solemn vow, one he meant.
By now, Chen Feng had already ascended to the eighty-eighth rank of Soul Douluo. With the many forces he had gathered, opposing Spirit Hall was no longer just a dream.
His gaze swept across the mourning hall. He saw Yu Xiaogang, pale and shaken, and beside him Liu Erlong, gaunt with grief. Their families had all been annihilated—there was no longer a place they could call home.
Yu Xiaogang's eyes were the most conflicted of all. Once, he had been cast out and scorned by the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan. Yet, no matter the resentment, it had been the place of his birth and childhood, the home of his kin. He could not sever those ties of blood.
Now, the clan had been exterminated. And the one who had commanded the hunt… was none other than the woman who had once been his lover.
Yu Xiaogang's heart twisted in indescribable torment…
Spirit Hall
In the Pope's Palace, Bibi Dong set down her cup of fragrant tea, quietly listening to the report of the red-robed cardinal before her.
"In the battle against the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, we deployed eight thousand soul masters in a surprise assault. The clan only discovered us when we reached their gates. They were utterly annihilated. Not a single soul survived. We suffered three thousand casualties. The Ninth Elder perished alongside Yu Yuanzhen. His remains have been recovered."
Bibi Dong rose from her seat and began pacing slowly across the grand hall.
"So this is the power of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan… so this is Yu Yuanzhen. Even under a sudden siege by four Title Douluo, he still managed to drag down one of our elders with him."
Her tone was cold, yet her brows furrowed.
"Eight thousand deployed. One thousand eight hundred were slaughtered, including women and children. And still, we lost three thousand in return. Can this be called a victory?"
She tilted her head toward the moonlight streaming through the high windows. Was this a triumph… or a bitter trade?
Perhaps both.
According to her original plan, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect was next on the list. But after the previous clash, and two years of growth, the sect's sword dao genius Chen Feng had already reached rank 97.
Alongside him stood the Bone Douluo at rank 96, Dugu Bo, the Four Single-Attribute Clans, and even the support of the Heaven Dou Empire's royal court. To strike at both sects at once was too great a risk—even for her.
Especially Chen Feng.
A god's inheritor.
If she had known back at the Continental Advanced Soul Master Tournament, she would have killed him on the spot, even at the cost of openly offending the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect and the Heaven Dou Empire.
Her failure then had cost her dearly. After that tournament, it was Chen Feng who personally killed Ghost Douluo. And now, the Ninth Elder had fallen as well. In total, Spirit Hall had already lost two of its Title Douluo to him.
The loss gnawed at her heart. Spirit Hall's ranks were vast, but even so, Title Douluo could not be expended so carelessly.
The only small comfort was that the two kings of the Star Dou Great Forest had not gone to waste, and now served as her spirit rings. She let out a cold humph. Only two trials remained of her Rakshasa God's inheritance. When they were complete, all debts would be settled.
The Elder Hall
The Elder Hall—the largest structure within Spirit Hall—was its true seat of power.
A towering, domed building, its grand hall rose nearly thirty meters high. Three surrounding levels, each with ten chambers, were reserved exclusively for the strongest of the strong.
Entry required one qualification alone: rank 90 or above. Title Douluo only.
Here resided Spirit Hall's true supreme authority. Even the Pope herself could not overrule it. If the elders joined forces, they could level a city in a single day. Such was no exaggeration.
The hall was silent.
As Qian Renxue stepped across its threshold, her pores contracted sharply.
Before the golden statue of a six-winged angel stood a man, his back to her, hands folded behind him.
An elder.
He was tall but not burly, clad in a plain grey robe. His long black hair was neatly combed, falling down his back.
And yet, he exuded a strange aura. With her own Six-Winged Angel martial soul, Qian Renxue could feel it clearly—this man and the golden statue seemed as one, indistinguishable from each other.
The sunlight pouring through the hall's windows all seemed to converge on him alone. Despite his simple clothing, merely standing there made him a figure to be revered.
"Grandfather…"
With a thud, Qian Renxue dropped to her knees.
The grey-robed elder slowly turned. In that instant, the oppressive aura faded as though it had never existed.
He looked like a man in his thirties or forties, his features strikingly handsome, a faint smile resting upon his lips.
His presence was calm, gentle, and serene—reminiscent of Ning Fengzhi himself.
This was Qian Daoliu.
In a single step, he closed the distance, appearing before her without stirring a wisp of soul power. He bent down and lifted her with tender care, no trace of reproach in his eyes.
Instead, he sighed.
"These years… you have suffered much."
The dam broke.
Hot tears streamed down Qian Renxue's cheeks as she collapsed into her grandfather's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Ten years undercover. Ten years of hardship, danger, and loneliness. And now, all her work had crumbled in an instant. The bitterness of it could only be understood by her alone.
Only after a long time did her crying subside. Her eyes, still red, stared firmly into Qian Daoliu's.
"Grandfather, I want to ask you a question. Please answer me truthfully."
Qian Daoliu's voice was steady.
"Ask, child. I will not hide anything from you."
She bit her lip, then spoke with trembling resolve:
Was it Bibi Dong… who killed my father, Qian Xunji?