As the Continental Advanced Soul Master Academy Elite Tournament — held once every five years — began anew, the colossal structure once again transformed into a roaring sea of excitement. All across the stands, deafening cheers erupted; countless excited faces brimmed with anticipation and awe.
At the center of the arena, the master of ceremonies stood resplendent in a luxurious robe, their face glowing as they spoke at full volume into an exquisitely crafted sound-amplifying soul device, perfectly stoking the arena's feverish atmosphere.
"Distinguished guests, enthusiastic audience!" The emcee's voice boomed. "First and foremost, let us give a round of warm applause and cheers to the most honored guest for this match — His Majesty, the supreme ruler of our Heaven Dou Empire, Emperor Xue Qinghe!"
A wave of thunderous applause and cheers erupted instantly; all eyes turned toward the VIP seats. Exiting the corridor, Xue Qinghe strode forth in radiant yellow imperial attire and a golden crown, his features gentle and elegant, a composed smile on his lips. His gaze swept the entire stadium, emanating a dignified and commanding presence.
"Our greetings to Your Majesty!"
Countless people in the stands rose and bowed deeply, their collective voices shaking the roof.
Xue Qinghe walked to the forefront of the VIP seats, took another amplifying soul device from a servant, and spoke to the entire arena in a gentle yet clear voice. "Gentlemen, there's no need for stiff formality. Today is a grand gathering where young soul masters are to show their talents. I wish to share this joy with my people — may everyone enjoy a delightful time today."
The simplicity of his words was met with yet another surge of enthusiastic cheers from the crowd. Though the new emperor had ruled with strength since his accession, he had never oppressed the people; on the contrary, his beneficial policies were highly acclaimed throughout the Heaven Dou Empire.
Once the noise subsided, the host took a deep breath, then raised his voice dramatically. "Next, on behalf of all soul masters and spectators across the continent, let us extend heartfelt respect and loud applause for another truly honored guest! Ranking in the top ten of the Douluo Heavenly Rankings, the honorary soul master of Grand Martial Academy, the team leader of this tournament, the pride of our Heaven Dou Empire — His Excellency Chen Yi!"
"Chen Yi!!!"
"Tyrant!! Chen Yi!!!"
"Tyrant! Tyrant! Tyrant!"
Barely had the host finished speaking when the entire Grand Soul Arena exploded with excitement and fervor like never before. The roar was so tremendous it seemed as if the dome might lift off into the sky. Throngs of people, faces flushed, swung anything they had as they shouted his name at the top of their lungs.
The title "Tyrant" Chen Yi — never formally bestowed — had spread rapidly among the people, and soon across the continent. It referred both to the unrivaled might of his fourth soul skill and his recent feat of defeating the veteran Douluo, Yu Yuanzhen, with a thunderous two strikes. It also referenced how he had ordered the ruthless purge of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, his methods as iron-fisted as his title.
Reverence, awe, fear — a tangled mix of emotions fueled the unstoppable rise of this imposing, overwhelming name.
Amidst countless fervent gazes, a tall, imposing figure slowly stepped forward from the opposite end of the VIP seats. Today, Chen Yi wore a finely cut, purple-gold robe. At first glance the fabric seemed ordinary, but lit by the sun, delicate patterns of lightning shimmered across it. His face bore a firm, resolute expression, and his deep eyes seemed to contain endless bolts of lightning. Simply standing there, an invisible pressure naturally radiated from him, causing nobles and powerful soul masters nearby to unconsciously hold their breath, unable to meet his gaze.
Even more striking was the intricate, mysterious purple-gold rune glowing faintly at the center of his forehead. Rather than detracting from his handsome features, the rune added an aura of majesty and divinity — as if it were the mark of some supreme power.
Chen Yi calmly surveyed the seething, boiling stands, nodding slightly in greeting. Yet this subtle motion unleashed yet another wave of wild cheering!
Composed, he walked to the front row of the VIP area and took a seat beside Xue Qinghe.
The host wiped sweat from his brow, waiting for the feverish atmosphere to cool a bit before continuing passionately. "Next, let's give a warm round of applause to the champions of the previous Continental Advanced Soul Master Academy Elite Tournament — the Grand Martial Academy Team! Enter the arena!"
The passage opened, and twelve figures walked proudly into the center of the Soul Battle Arena, all eyes upon them. Leading the group was a young woman with long, blue hair and striking beauty, clad in the pale-yellow uniform of Grand Martial Academy, the team captain Shui Bing'er herself.
"Grand Martial! Grand Martial! Grand Martial!"
Deafening cheers rang throughout the stands, especially from the area reserved for Grand Martial Academy and their supporters.
The emcee continued excitedly, "Grand Martial Academy! After winning the last tournament, this year's team is remarkable as well. Captain Shui Bing'er, just seventeen years old, has already broken past soul power rank 58 to become a high-level Soul King. Moreover, four other main team members have also reached Soul King rank, while two more core members are just one step from becoming Soul Kings — both at soul power 49!"
"Five Soul Kings! Two at the peak, about to break through!"
"Wow! That's nearly as formidable as last year's godlike team!"
"Grand Martial Academy is defying the very heavens this year!"
"Champions! The champions must be Grand Martial again!"
In the VIP seats, Xue Qinghe regarded the imposing Grand Martial team with approval, then turned to Chen Yi with a warm smile. "I've heard the Spirit Hall is focusing on nurturing their so-called 'Golden Generation' this year, with impressive results."
"But judging from what we've seen today, compared to your Grand Martial Academy, Brother Chen… I'm afraid there's still quite a gap."
Though he was the soul master of the Spirit Hall — even its young master — he owed no obligation to flatter the Pope. As for this so-called 'Golden Generation,' he'd certainly heard rumors.
Chen Yi smiled faintly, replying calmly, "Your Majesty honors us too much. Spirit Hall has deep foundations; the younger generation they've cultivated are not empty names. In this tournament, anything is possible."
At that moment, the host's voice once again resounded as he introduced the other competing academies.
…
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in the city of Spirit—
Within the depths of the lavish, yet cold and desolate, Pope's Palace, Bibi Dong reclined against the edge of a soft, expansive bed. Her purple-gold robe was rumpled, long hair untied, half-veiling her beautiful yet hollow and lifeless face.
Suddenly, with no warning, a bewitching and sinister female voice rang out from the depths of her soul — a voice that seemed to arouse the darkness and desires at the very core of one's being.
"The sixth trial of the Rakshasa's Nine Trials has been changed."
Bibi Dong's empty eyes trembled almost imperceptibly, a faint glimmer of numb light flickering within.
The voice continued, cold and cruel.
"New trial content —'Rakshasa's Heart Inquiry.'
The heir must confront their innermost demon, sever all illusions with the Rakshasa Blade, and utterly erase them from the origin of the soul."
Instantly, Bibi Dong's empty eyes trembled violently, the faintrial glimmer surfacing.
"Confront my own heart?" Her cracked lips moved barely, her voice weak and hoarse, as if questioning the void. "Rakshasa… what more do you want? Everything I ever had… is already destroyed… what's left to take?"
Within the recesses of her mind, the Rakshasa Goddess's seductive but malicious voice responded with frank malice and scorn.
"What do I want? What I want… is to shatter those ridiculous, pitiful, unrealistic illusions lingering in your heart!
I want you to truly understand what it is — that thing you've clung to, that has ruined you — for decades, even in defiance of me!"
As these words fell, a torrential, irresistible force erupted from the depths of her soul; before Bibi Dong could respond, all turned dark as her consciousness was forcibly dragged deep into her own mind.
Her body slumped limply back onto the cold bed, motionless. At the same time, an intense, purple-black, evil aura burst from her, instantly enveloping the entire palace. Malicious energy surged, congealing into solid barriers and cages that completely isolated the palace inside and out. No light, not even sound, could penetrate.
As her consciousness was dragged to the deepest reaches of her mental ocean, she found herself thrown into a chaotic abyss forged of her own endless resentment, despair, and fragmented memories.
There, as if it had lain in wait since ancient times, was the Rakshasa Demon Scythe — its long, curved blade gleaming cold as ice. Most notable, at the tip of the scythe, flickered a tiny, nearly extinguished white point of light, like a candle flame in the wind, feeble yet stubborn.
Within that point of light danced a complex mix of fear, hatred, unwillingness — and a faint, all-too-familiar feeling that instinctively stirred something deep within Bibi Dong's soul.
"Rakshasa! What do you want now?" Bibi Dong's awareness manifested in the void, staring fixedly at the white flame, then suddenly turning her gaze to the demon scythe — her eyes suddenly cold as winter, brimming with barely suppressed killing intent.
Had that detrialable Rakshasa Goddess not sealed her divine power at the crucial moment and blocked her from saving him, Yu Xiaogang would never have died so tragically.
In the Divine Realm, the Rakshasa Goddess, observing the mortal world through her divine senses, curled her lips in contempt upon hearing the question.
"Pathetic mortals paired with fools — nauseating even to watch."
Almost immediately, the mocking, ominous female voice resounded again within Bibi Dong's heart.
"What do I want? Ha… Didn't I tell you? It was I, your very goddess, who controlled that trash and forced that ugly, disgusting fate upon him!
And this time, I've come specifically to help you break your last, absurd illusion!"
Compared to previous times, the voice carried a new note: the gloating derision of someone eager to watch a farce end in tragedy.
"What do you mean!?" Bibi Dong's consciousness wavered violently, her voice rising in pitch.
"He's already dead!
Ravaged and shredded by beasts — even his soul should be gone. What more do you want? Not even a trace of him remains!"
"That's precisely the point—" the Rakshasa's voice suddenly turned icy as frost. "I want you to see for yourself his hypocritical, cowardly face — to finally see with your own eyes just how filthy that 'moonlight' you admired for so many decades truly is!"
"You…!"
Bibi Dong's body trembled fiercely, grief and rage welling up inside. How could a 'god' be so vicious — not even allowing a tragically-deceased soul to rest? What could she possibly be trying to prove?
"What do you mean, 'what do you mean'?" the Rakshasa snapped rudely, her tone edged with exasperation. "Do you know how much effort I went to just to prepare this 'heart inquiry' divine trial for you?"
For Bibi Dong, so attached and so irrational when it came to love, an ordinary illusion-based interrogation was pointless:
White moonlight, especially that which had died, held ultimate power. Memories, regret, and loss filter and sanctify such images — the living can never compare to the dead. Over time, that loss becomes sacred, their image untouchable, transformed into unshakable obsession and inner demons.
So, the Rakshasa took matters into her own hands.
She journeyed to the World of Spirits at considerable cost, and managed — just before utter extinction — to extract the last fragment of Yu Xiaogang's soul from the fading remnants of Thunder Dragon Valley.
Not to resurrect him, but to completely shatter Bibi Dong's illusion, revealing the truth.
"No more nonsense!"
The Rakshasa goddess had no patience to waste words on a fool in love. The feeble white light at the scythe's tip flickered in sync with her words — its aura growing clearer, more familiar to Bibi Dong by the second.
"Xiaogang… is it really Xiaogang!?"
Her consciousness stalled, the cold and murderous light in her eyes transforming instantly into disbelief and ecstasy.
The next moment, she turned into a beam of light, darting toward the pale flame—
"Humph! What are you rushing for?"
The Rakshasa Goddess snorted, a chill in her voice, as violet-black demonic energy blazed across the scythe.
Before Bibi Dong could reach, an intense violet-black ray shot from the demonic scythe, piercing both Bibi Dong's consciousness and that lingering fragment of Yu Xiaogang's soul—
"Buzz—!"
A strange resonance rang out. Bibi Dong's will and the fragile soul remnant were forcibly linked under the Rakshasa's divine power.
The next instant, another surge of purple-black radiance erupted from the demon scythe, engulfing both Bibi Dong's consciousness and the faint white soul, cocooning them in a vast, rotating, sinister light-spun cocoon, radiating decay and sealing them tightly within.
From within the void, the Rakshasa Goddess's icy voice tolled:
"Bibi Dong… This is your last chance."
"In this 'inquiry of your own heart,' you must see the other with clarity — and more importantly, see yourself clearly."
"Make your choice—"
"If not…"
Now, murderous intent laced her voice, no longer concealed. Though Bibi Dong was once seen as worthy, her value to the Divine Realm had greatly diminished after her delays there.
Thus, this was truly the god's last chance offered to Bibi Dong.
…