The Pope's Palace rose before him like a monument to divine authority—magnificent, resplendent, almost overwhelmingly grand. Every surface gleamed with wealth and power. At the entrance stood an immense stone sculpture of an angel, wings spread wide, its expression solemn and sacred.
The moment Salas crossed the threshold, golden-armored knights snapped to attention, their salutes crisp and synchronized.
He paused to straighten his robes, ensuring every detail was perfect, then strode deeper into the temple's heart.
The main hall opened before him—vast, opulent, and dominated by a throne that seemed carved from shadows and starlight.
Salas dropped to one knee without hesitation. "Your Holiness, Pope Bibi Dong. Honorable Elders."
Upon that supreme throne sat a woman who commanded attention simply by existing.
She wore a luxurious black robe adorned with intricate gold patterns that caught the lamplight like trapped fire. A nine-curved purple-gold crown rested upon her head—regal, imposing. In her hand she held a two-meter scepter encrusted with countless gems that pulsed with latent power.
Her skin was porcelain-fair, almost luminescent. Her features were arranged with such perfect symmetry that they seemed sculpted by an artist who understood beauty on a fundamental level.
Long, elegant legs were folded gracefully, one over the other, radiating an effortless combination of charm and authority. A subtle, intoxicating feminine fragrance emanated from her—something that made her presence feel even more otherworldly.
But it was the aura that truly set her apart. An invisible nobility, a sanctity that demanded reverence. Looking at her, one couldn't help but feel the urge to kneel, to worship.
This was Pope Bibi Dong—beautiful beyond words, noble, elegant, serene. Every flattering adjective in existence could be applied to this woman, and still it wouldn't capture the full truth.
Though she was no longer in the first bloom of youth, time seemed to have forgotten to mark her. She remained ageless, eternal.
Flanking her throne stood two figures of equal menace.
To the left: a man clad in resplendent golden armor, his face bearing a certain haggard quality. His features were masculine, yet his aura carried an almost feminine elegance—coquettish, beautiful in an unsettling way.
Yue Guan—Chrysanthemum Douluo.
To the right: another armored figure, this one wearing shadow-colored plates that seemed to drink in the light. His face was pale as death, a ghostly tattoo marking his features like a brand. An eerie, spectral aura clung to him, radiating cold dread that made even brave souls want to take a step back.
Gui Mei—Ghost Douluo.
Both were Bibi Dong's right hands—Titled Douluo utterly devoted to supporting the Pope.
At this moment, both men wore matching expressions of mild irritation, their hands forming identical gestures. They'd clearly been in the middle of something before Salas arrived.
In fact, all three had been preparing to leave—some personal matter or strategic planning session—when Salas's sudden appearance interrupted them.
Bibi Dong's voice cut through the silence like a blade of ice. "What is it, Salas?"
Salas produced the envelope with a flourish. "Your Holiness—urgent intelligence from the Notting City Spirit Hall branch. Deacon Su Yuntao has awakened a child in Huangjia Village who possesses innate full soul power. His martial soul is called the Black Turtle."
The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.
"Innate full soul power?" Bibi Dong's perfect eyebrows rose fractionally. "A Black Turtle?"
Yue Guan and Gui Mei exchanged surprised glances.
"Black Turtle? What kind of species is that?" Yue Guan mused, tilting his head thoughtfully.
"Well, it's a turtle of some kind, obviously," Gui Mei muttered. "Probably defensive support-type."
Bibi Dong made a subtle gesture with one slender hand. The envelope flew from Salas's grasp as if pulled by invisible threads, landing gently in her palm.
She opened it with practiced elegance, her eyes scanning the contents. Slowly, a smile curved her lips—small, but unmistakable.
"Su Yuntao is remarkably fortunate. Issue him a promotion immediately, along with a reward of one hundred thousand gold soul coins."
Chapter 6: Bibi Dong's Personal Visit—Astonishing Defense
The room fell into stunned silence.
Everyone stared at Bibi Dong with varying degrees of envy.
The promotion itself wasn't shocking—Su Yuntao would never reach the heights of these three Titled Douluo regardless. But one hundred thousand gold soul coins?
That was equivalent to half a year's income for elders of their caliber. Maybe even more.
For a single awakening discovery.
One hundred thousand gold soul coins can accomplish so much, Salas thought, barely suppressing his jealousy.
He bowed deeply. "As you command, Your Holiness!"
"The child is currently residing in the branch hall. His safety is assured."
Bibi Dong tapped one elegant finger against the armrest of her throne, considering. "It's late now. Tomorrow morning, I'll visit him personally and escort him on his first soul ring hunt."
Her gaze swept across them. "You're all dismissed."
"Yes, Your Holiness!"
The Next Morning—Notting City
A luxurious procession rolled through Notting City's streets, drawing every eye. Ornate carriages pulled by magnificent soul beasts came to a halt before the Spirit Hall branch.
The lead carriage door opened.
Two long, shapely legs emerged first—clad in elegant dark stockings that seemed to shimmer in the morning light. Then the rest of Bibi Dong stepped out with fluid grace, her scepter in hand, her presence immediately dominating the entire square.
Behind her came Yue Guan and Gui Mei, their expressions serious and watchful.
Salas followed, his face a mask of professionalism.
Every person in the branch hall—from the lowest clerks to the guards—immediately dropped to their knees, heads bowed.
"WE GREET YOUR HOLINESS, POPE BIBI DONG!" The synchronized cry echoed through the courtyard.
Matthewno rushed forward, his face pale with panic-tinged reverence. "Your Holiness! I—I never imagined you would come personally! This is far too much trouble for someone of your station—"
"It's no trouble." Bibi Dong's voice was calm, emotionless. "The value of innate full soul power far exceeds what you understand. There can be no room for error in handling such talent."
"Y-Yes, of course!" Matthewno bobbed his head frantically.
Bibi Dong's long eyelashes fluttered as she glanced around. "Where is the child?"
"He... he hasn't woken up yet. Still in his room," Matthewno stammered, immediately breaking into a cold sweat. Standing this close to Bibi Dong, the sheer pressure of her natural aura was suffocating.
Gui Mei's eyes widened with indignation. "What?! His Holiness the Pope comes personally, and this boy dares to sleep?! He must be taught proper respect!"
Bibi Dong raised one hand, silencing him with the gesture alone. "He doesn't know I'm here. There's no fault."
Her gaze returned to Matthewno. "Take us to his room."
"At once, Your Holiness!"
Matthewno immediately led the way, his legs feeling distinctly unsteady.
Inside Huang Wei's assigned quarters, the boy in question was sleeping like the dead.
His mouth hung slightly open, a thin line of drool darkening the pillow. His expression was peaceful, content—clearly lost in some pleasant dream. A distinctly lecherous smile played at his lips.
Knock knock knock—
The sound of the door opening shattered the tranquility.
Huang Wei's eyes snapped open. The transmigrator's notorious "wake-up rage" kicked in instantly.
"WHO THE HELL—?!" he snarled, his voice thick with sleep and irritation. "Do you have ANY manners?! Barging in this early in the morning—I was having the best dream!"
Every person who'd just entered the room froze mid-step.
Matthewno felt his soul leave his body. Oh no. Oh god no. Please shut up. PLEASE.
He cast a terrified glance at Bibi Dong, expecting apocalyptic fury.
Her expression remained... calm. Unnervingly calm.
But Yue Guan and Gui Mei had no such restraint.
"You little brat!" Gui Mei's voice cracked like a whip. "Open your eyes and see CLEARLY who stands before you!"
"His Holiness the Pope came to retrieve you personally! You should be on your knees thanking the heavens for such fortune! And yet you dare speak to her like this?! Who do you think you ARE?!"
The furious words jolted Huang Wei into full consciousness.
He blinked rapidly, focusing on the three strangers—except they weren't strangers at all.
His breath caught.
That golden armor and feminine features... that ghostly pale face with the tattoo... and that woman in the center...
Recognition slammed into him like a physical blow.
Yue Guan. Gui Mei. And Bibi Dong.
They looked exactly like their anime counterparts. There was no mistaking them.
"What an... interesting little fellow." Bibi Dong's voice carried the faintest note of amusement as she stepped forward, scepter clicking softly against the floor with each measured step.
Huang Wei scrambled out of bed, trying to compose himself despite the internal panic. He forced his expression into something resembling calm and met her gaze as steadily as he could manage.
"Hello, Sister Pope!" he said brightly, flashing his most innocent smile. "My name is Huang Wei. You can just call me Little Wei!"
Sister Pope.
The title hung in the air like a record scratch.
Absolute silence descended.
Behind Bibi Dong, every face registered varying degrees of horror. Matthewno looked ready to faint. Yue Guan's eye twitched violently. Gui Mei's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, unable to form words.
Sister... Sister Pope?!
Even Bibi Dong herself paused mid-step, genuine surprise flickering across her usually implacable features.
No one—in all her years as Pope, through countless audiences and encounters—had ever addressed her that way. The title was so unexpected, so bizarrely endearing, that she found herself momentarily at a loss.
Strange. And yet... oddly touching.
Gui Mei finally recovered enough to speak, his voice strangled with outrage. "You insolent little—!"
Bibi Dong raised one jade hand, cutting him off effortlessly.
Her red lips curved into the smallest of smiles. "Little Wei... may I see your martial soul?"
Huang Wei nodded eagerly. "Of course, Sister Pope!"
He took a breath, centered himself, and called out: "Black Turtle—possess!"
ROOOAAAAAR!
The sound reverberated through the room—ancient, primal, magnificent. A colossal Black Turtle materialized above Huang Wei, its presence immediately dominating every corner of space.
Bird-like head. Serpentine tail. Massive shell covered in mystical patterns.
Golden eyes blazing with intelligence and power.
An overwhelming aura of majesty radiated from the creature—the dignity of an immortal beast.
Simultaneously, emerald-green armor formed across Huang Wei's body like living jade—perfectly fitted, seamlessly integrated. His pupils shifted to vibrant yellow with razor-sharp intensity. His frame grew taller, broader, more imposing.
His entire demeanor transformed—elevated, refined, powerful.
"That size..." Yue Guan's eyes widened. "It's enormous!"
"The largest beast martial soul I've ever seen," Gui Mei muttered, genuine shock breaking through his anger. "Even larger than—no, this is unprecedented."
"And it's not even possessed yet," Yue Guan added, studying the floating Black Turtle spirit with fascination. "It's externalized, hovering above him. That's... highly unusual."
Bibi Dong's gaze sharpened with interest. This wasn't an ordinary martial soul—everything about it screamed exceptional.
She could sense it clearly now—level ten soul power, exactly as reported. Perfect.
"Very good," she said, satisfaction evident in her tone. "Tell me, Little Wei—how do you feel when your martial soul is active?"
Huang Wei answered honestly. "My defense becomes incredibly strong."
"'Incredibly strong'..." Bibi Dong echoed thoughtfully. Her mind turned analytical. Is this the same level of 'strong' as other defensive-type martial souls? Or something more?
A defensive increase wasn't surprising for a turtle-type martial soul. But the degree of that increase... that remained to be seen.
"Little Wei," Bibi Dong said decisively, "let's go downstairs and conduct a proper test."
"Okay!" Huang Wei nodded, falling into step behind her.
They descended to a spacious training courtyard on the first floor—an open area designed for martial soul demonstrations and sparring.
Bibi Dong's gaze swept across the gathered personnel and settled on one familiar face. "Su Yuntao. Activate your martial soul and attack Little Wei using your full strength as a Great Soul Master."
Su Yuntao's eyes widened. "Ah—yes, Your Holiness!"
He understood immediately. This was a defensive capability test.
Better not hold back, then. Show them what Little Wei can do.
"Lone Wolf—possess!"
His martial soul surged forth, lupine features overtaking his human ones. Soul power gathered in his limbs as he prepared a proper strike—not a casual tap, but a genuine attack channeling a Great Soul Master's might.
Huang Wei simply smiled, utterly calm. Defense.
The moment he thought it, a massive turtle shell materialized around his body—and simultaneously, he felt something else activate. The Thornmail's energy fused seamlessly with his natural defenses, reinforcing the shell with invisible, deadly power.
This is going to be good.
Su Yuntao's first soul ring blazed yellow. He channeled soul power through his fist and launched forward with explosive speed—
BANG!
The collision echoed through the courtyard like a thunderclap.
But the turtle shell didn't budge. Didn't even tremble.
Instead, Su Yuntao's eyes went wide with shock as an invisible force slammed into him—his own attack, magnified and reflected back. He was hurled backward like a ragdoll, tumbling across the ground before crashing in an undignified heap.
"AHHHHH!" His scream cut through the stunned silence. "My arm—it hurts—I think it's broken!"
He writhed on the ground, face pale and drenched in cold sweat, clutching his right arm which now hung at a distinctly unnatural angle.
"Impossible!" someone gasped.
"Did he just—"
"It really is broken!" Yue Guan moved closer, his spiritual sense sweeping over Su Yuntao's injury. His expression shifted to genuine shock. "Clean fracture. The bone completely snapped."
Even Gui Mei looked taken aback. "From a counterattack? The boy didn't even move..."
Bibi Dong's long eyelashes fluttered in surprise. For someone of her caliber to show such visible astonishment spoke volumes.
"Salas—get a healing soul master. Now." The command was sharp.
"At once, Your Holiness!"
Within moments, a healing-type soul master rushed out from the branch hall, green light already gathering in their palms. They knelt beside Su Yuntao and began channeling restorative energy into the injury.
Gradually, Su Yuntao's agonized expression eased. The bones knit back together under the healing soul power, the swelling receded, and color returned to his face.
Once the healing soul master stepped back, Bibi Dong spoke—her voice carrying a note of unmistakable approval.
"You haven't even obtained your first soul ring yet, and already your defensive capabilities are this extraordinary. Moreover, you possess innate counter-damage capabilities—reflecting an opponent's attack power back at them." Her red lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Yes. This martial soul is exceptional."
If this is his defense without any soul rings... what will he become once properly developed?
The potential was staggering.
Bibi Dong's gaze softened as she looked at Huang Wei, her voice taking on a gentler quality. "Little Wei... would you be willing to become my disciple?"