In today's world—
Tensions between the Spirit Hall and the two great empires never ceased.
Yet, war had not truly broken out.
Across the cities of the Heaven Dou Empire, the Spirit Hall's branch temples still stood strong.
And the branch set in Heaven Dou City, the imperial capital, was far from ordinary.
Aside from Platinum Bishop Salas, a powerful Spirit Douluo whose Spirit Power exceeded level 80, there were also two Spirit Saints serving directly under him.
On the long street—
The Heaven Dou branch had mobilized its entire force.
Dozens of fierce Spirit Power auras surged into the night, sharp as wind blades,
driving the onlookers back in alarm.
Only at the noodle stall did one group remain calm—
Li Zhexian and his companions continued chatting and laughing as they ate their noodles, as if nothing had happened.
Qian Renxue's fair face turned cold; she started to rise, but Li Zhexian extended a hand and gently pressed down on her soft, pale fingers.
If Spirit Hall chose this moment to strike, then surely it was under the direct command of Pope Bibi Dong herself.
Even Qian Renxue might not be able to stop what was coming.
Li Zhexian's voice was calm, his lips curving faintly:
"Just filled my belly, and I was wondering how to work it off."
"And now they've come knocking? What perfect timing to stretch a few muscles."
Feng Buyu wiped his mouth, the black silk over his eyes swaying slightly as he turned toward the Spirit Hall forces.
"Brother Zhexian!"
"I missed the great fight in front of the Pope's Palace last time!"
"This time, let me—Feng Buyu—take the first strike!"
Seeing Feng Buyu and the disciples of the Wind Sword Sect already cracking their knuckles and rolling their shoulders, Li Zhexian could only shake his head and laugh.
That unyielding arrogance of his… hadn't changed one bit.
Huo Wushuang, Feng Xiaotian, Shui Bing'er and the others likewise grew cold-faced,
their immense Spirit Power rising like a storm above them.
Before anyone could act—
A cold, commanding voice rolled across the street.
"My young friends… do not let a moment's impulse ruin the future of your sects."
At those words, the Spirit Hall members stepped aside respectfully.
From between their ranks strode a man in a bright red bishop's robe—Salas.
Two Spirit Saints followed at his back.
Deep lines creased his old face, his eyes gleaming with cold malice as he looked past everyone—except Li Zhexian.
"The Spirit Hall has not forgotten our old grudges," he said coldly.
"Do not test the limits of the Pope's mercy."
"Hmph!"
Yu Tianheng snorted, ready to retort—
But before he could speak, the ground began to tremble.
A troop of armored Heaven Dou night sentries came rushing down the street.
Their captain's face blanched as he saw Salas leading his forces to surround the young Heaven Dou prodigies.
He hurried forward, clasping his fists in salute.
"Lord Salas!"
"May I ask why you lead your men here at this hour, with such display of force?"
Salas's cold eyes flicked toward the storyteller seated behind the square table.
"This old man's tongue runs wild—he dared slander the holy name of Her Holiness the Pope."
"He will be taken back to the Spirit Hall for interrogation."
His cloudy eyes narrowed slightly—
then fell upon the white-robed youth at the table.
"Check whether someone stands behind him."
The storyteller remained calm.
The stooped back straightened suddenly,
like a pine tree clinging to a cliff.
Beside him, the Spirit Master's face tensed; he instinctively stepped forward to shield the old man.
"Sir…"
These five years of wandering—
They had met with the Spirit Hall's hostility more than once.
And yet, each time, some unseen force had come to their aid in secret.
But tonight—within the imperial capital—
That hidden protector's reach might not extend this far.
The storyteller and the Spirit Master turned toward the white-robed youth at the table.
Just one look—
And their hearts settled.
The Spirit Master's taut shoulders eased.
Now was no time to say something foolish like "Lord Sword Wine, don't involve yourself for us."
That would only cheapen this charged, solemn night—
And insult the very legends they had told thousands of times.
They had walked the world, spreading the tales of this man.
Their faith in him was already unshakable.
Tonight—
With Lord Sword Wine here—
Even a Platinum Bishop of the Spirit Hall could not lay a finger on them.
"Are you ready?"
The storyteller asked quietly.
The Spirit Master grinned, excitement flickering in his eyes.
He reached behind his waist and pulled out a roll of parchment—
And from the other hand, a wolf-hair brush.
His voice trembled with fervor:
"I still think… I'm best suited to record this!"
Neither of them showed a trace of fear.
But the lead sentry frowned deeply.
The current tension between the Spirit Hall and Heaven Dou Empire was precarious—
He had to tread carefully.
He must not be the one to ignite the spark of war.
Yet…
Even if the Spirit Hall called itself the sacred land of Spirit Masters,
The Heaven Dou Empire still had its dignity.
And right now—
He represented Heaven Dou.
His knees could not bend.
The captain silently tightened his grip on sword and shield,
and met Salas's cold gaze.
"Bishop Salas, I'm afraid I cannot obey."
"This man is a citizen of the Heaven Dou Empire."
"Even if he is suspected of a crime, he should be taken to the imperial prison for interrogation."
"Since Your Excellency claims he slandered the Pope—"
"Guards! Arrest this man and escort him to the prison for trial!"
"Yes, sir!"
A guard obeyed, taking one step forward—
And in that instant—
One of the Spirit Saints behind Salas moved.
A flash of malice lit his eyes.
His Spirit Power-wrapped palm struck straight at the guard's chest.
Crack!
Pffft—!
The sound of breaking bones and spattering blood rang out together.
The guard's body flew ten meters through the air,
crashing heavily onto the ground—lifeless.
Swords rang out all along the street.
The captain's eyes reddened in fury as he glared at Salas:
"Salas! You—!"
"Silence," Salas interrupted coldly.
"Know your place. A mere soldier dares defy the Spirit Hall?"
All traces of a benevolent clergyman vanished from his aged face.
What remained was a ghastly, sinister mask, brimming with killing intent.
The onlookers shivered to their cores at the sudden shift.
Boom!
Boom!
The two Spirit Saints behind Salas unleashed their full power at once.
With roars like rending air, they charged straight toward the Heaven Dou guards.
"Bastards!"
Yu Tianheng, Huo Wushuang, Feng Buyu and the others leapt up, shouting in anger.
But—
Li Zhexian was faster.
"Right Arm Spirit Bone Ability—Yazhi Sword Rift!"
Zheng—!
Zheng—!
The crisp sound of sword cries split the night.
In the blink of an eye, Li Zhexian vanished from his seat.
In the darkness, streaks of cold, gleaming sword qi flashed across the air.
Cold, gleaming sword qi flared into being.
And the next instant—
from each shimmering streak, a phantom of Li Zhexian appeared—
so fast, so fluid, it was almost ghostlike.
Clang—!
The Qinglian Sword leapt into his palm.
Two deep violet Spirit Rings wrapped around its edge, pulsing with radiance.
"Second Spirit Ability— Three Swords of Elegance!"
"First Spirit Ability—Greenblade Severance!"
Sword light rippled, white robes fluttered, his movement dazzling beyond comprehension.
Two fatal sword beams, dark red like streaks of blood, intersected and slashed out in the blink of an eye.
The two charging Spirit Saints suddenly froze in place.
"Huh… huh-huh…"
Their eyes widened in disbelief.
Both clutched at their throats—
But the blood still poured freely through their fingers.
They fell backward heavily, lifeless, dust rising around their corpses.
And at that same moment—
a sliver of sword qi flickered into existence—
just inches before Salas's chest.
Then, in a heartbeat,
the sword qi turned into a white-robed youth—
Li Zhexian, standing right before him.
The night deepened.
The youth's jet-black eyes stared coldly into the old bishop's face,
the space between them barely an arm's length.
Salas was, after all, an old Spirit Douluo master.
Though startled, he did not panic.
With a roar, his mighty Spirit Power erupted,
his crimson robes billowing like a flag of blood.
From his withered palm, a massive surge of power formed—
and he struck viciously toward the youth before him.
The air twisted from the force of his blow—
Yet when his palm landed—
there was nothing there.
Li Zhexian had vanished again.
Salas's eyes darted upward—
Only to see the white-robed youth sitting once more at his original place.
His face was calm as still water.
As though the terrifying instant kill just moments ago
had nothing to do with him at all.
He picked up his chopsticks,
lifted a strand of now-cool noodles,
and slowly brought it to his lips.