The courtyard erupted as golden chrysanthemum petals swirled, Spirit Hall masters flooding in.
Zhu Zhenyuan's teeth clenched. Yue Guan!
He knew too well this visitor — Chrysanthemum Douluo, Titled Supreme of the Martial Soul Hall. For decades, Heaven Dou, Star Luo, and Spirit Hall had hated each other to the bone. Yet none dared rashly provoke the Hall's immense power.
So why storm into the Zhu Clan of all places?
"Yue Guan!" Zhu Zhenyuan barked coldly. "This is the Star Luo Empire — the Zhu Estate itself. Did anyone invite you to be a guest?!"
Yue Guan's lips curled with flamboyant grace. "Guest? No. I came… for him." He lifted a golden-painted finger straight at Lucien.
Gasps spread.
Even Star Luo's Contra patriarch felt his stomach knot. If Martial Soul Hall dared target this boy directly…
Lucien blinked, then grinned. "Eh? Big Sis, do I know you?"
The courtyard dropped dead silent.
"B—Big Sis…?"
Veins twitched at Yue Guan's forehead. Were it not for Pope's strict command — "Bring him alive" — this brat would be fertilizer already.
"Boy… come with me." His voice iced.
A ray of golden Spirit Power shot towards Lucien — only to snap apart on the lashing Sword Qi orbiting his drunken body.
"…What?!"
For the first time in decades, Chrysanthemum Douluo's expression cracked. His signature suppressions — shredded by a Soul King's aura?
"The third ability — Breath Enchantment!" he snapped. Chrysanthemum petals cascaded, a zone of oppressive fragrance blanketing the enclosure. Warriors collapsed to knees, Zhu Zhenyuan himself gasping under its weight.
But one form stood untouched amid drifting petals.
Lucien tilted another sip. "This perfume stinks. And your Adam's apple's bobbing, faker. You're just a man in women's clothes!"
"You dare—!"
Yue Guan roared, summoning his fifth ability. "Gathering Hanying!" The chrysanthemum core gleamed, spitting a blade of condensed light.
SHRIIING!
Lucien blurred sideways, bursting into Sword Qi, slashing down with his own: "Feng Chen Absolute Slash—!"
Sparks shrieked against Yue Guan's barrier of petals.
The elder smirked sharply. "Boy, do you feel it? Velvet Light has counter-shock — keep bashing me, and only your bones snap."
Behind Lucien, the conjured blade shot again.
But his left arm flared black — soul bone erupting. Dark Fire! His long sword burned in abyssal flame, cleaving the golden strike apart in one brutal slash.
Even Yue Guan's face twitched now. Soul bone already? At such age? Envy prickled sharp.
"Enough! I'll end this!"
The courtyard trembled as Yue Guan's nine-ringed aura expanded fully, golden floods ready to annihilate—
Until—
BOOOOOOOOM
A long silver edge tore the night, plunging like heaven's judgment into the courtyard stones. Petals exploded back, Martial Soul Hall masters thrown sprawling.
Cold sword will towered — and a man strode from the falling glow.
Armor straight, hair chillingly white, sword aura towering like a pillar to heaven.
Seven Kill Sword Douluo Chen Xin.
He planted himself before Lucien, radiance burning. "Chrysanthemum, are you tired of living?"
The Zhu clansmen reeled. From a drunken Soul King's madness—now it was Titled Douluo vs Titled Douluo. Their ancestral estate would be utterly obliterated.
Chen Xin's sword edge hummed inches from Yue Guan, his voice iron:
"Our Seven Treasure Glazed Sect raised a genius unseen for centuries. And you Martial Soul Hall crawl here to snatch him? Do you want to draw war with us?!"
Murderous will slammed the courtyard.
Yue Guan hissed through his teeth, sweat pricking his neck. "The Pope wants him alive. Nothing more."
Chen Xin's reply was steel. "…Not a chance."
Silver sword blazed to life, splitting the air.
The clash of Titled Douluo ignited above Zhu estate — one man drunk, one man vexed, one man sworn to protect.
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