Chapter 25 – The Endless Thread
Duke Victor is panting, his mottled purple armor smoking from his own redirected acid. The sight of a six-year-old child standing perfectly calm amidst the wreckage of his elite squad is more than his pride can bear.
"I am a Duke of the Empire! A Spirit Sage!" Victor screams, his seven rings burning with a violent, unstable light. "Seventh Soul Skill: Spirit Avatar!"
His body distorts, expanding into a massive, three-meter-tall monstrous black widow. The chitinous legs sharpen like obsidian spears, and the air around him thickens with a lethal, paralyzing miasma. This is the "Desperate Last Stand"—the ultimate trump card of a Rank 70+ master.
Lakan, however, just tilts his head, a playful, mocking smirk spreading across his face. He lifts a hand, covering one of his eyes briefly as if he's bored.
"Whoa, big guy," Lakan chuckles, his voice dripping with Gojo-style sarcasm. "Is that it? You turn into a giant bug? I mean, it's a good look for you—really captures your inner personality—but you're still just... well, a bug."
As the giant spider lunges with a speed that would decapitate a normal Spirit Ancestor, Lakan's feet move in a blur of the Eight-Directional Flow. He draws Buan (the Silver Moon) to join Araw.
"Tuloy-Tuloy (The Endless Thread)."
Lakan doesn't move away. He becomes a whirlwind. This skill is the "continuous loop" of the Severing Rhythm. He creates a series of rapid, circular slashes that don't just cut; they leave behind "energy threads" of soul power in the air.
Within seconds, the space around the Duke is filled with a shimmering web of gold and silver. It is a "Spirit Domain Lite." Every time the Duke moves a leg to strike, he is met with a high-frequency vibration that "shaves" his chitinous armor.
"Why are you struggling?" Lakan asks, appearing mid-air right in front of the spider's main face. "The more you move, the more you cut yourself. It's basic math, Victor. But then again, you nobles were always bad at the things that actually matter."
Just as Lakan raises Araw to deliver the finishing blow to the Duke's central nervous system, a blast of horns echoes from the street. A battalion of the Heaven Dou Imperial Guard arrives, led by a man on a white pegasus-spirit horse.
"HALT!" the commander bellows. This is General Kael, a Rank 81 Spirit Douluo. He sees the Duke trapped in Lakan's "Endless Thread" and his eyes widen in horror. "Envoy of Spirit Hall, stay your hand! This is a Duke of the Empire! Killing him here will start a war!"
Lakan doesn't drop his stance. He remains floating on his Ten-Headed Wings, looking over his shoulder at the General with an expression of "What, this old thing?"
"A war?" Lakan asks, his voice airy and light. "Over a bug that tries to kidnap girls and bullies the weak? General, your standards are embarrassingly low. You should really thank me for cleaning up your mess."
General Kael dismounts, his own soul power radiating to counter the "Endless Thread's" pressure. "Lakan Diwa, I know who you are. The Supreme Pontiff's favorite. But there are protocols. If Victor has sinned, he must be tried by the Imperial Court."
"The Imperial Court?" Lakan laughs, a sharp, cold sound. "You mean the court filled with his cousins and drinking buddies? Yeah, I'll pass. My 'Court' is right here."
Lakan presses the tip of Araw against the Duke's trembling, monstrous forehead.
"Listen closely, General," Lakan says, the playfulness vanishing into a cold, Sovereign authority. "The Heaven Dou Empire has been rotting from the inside out. You use these nobles to keep the peace, but they are the ones breaking it. If you want him to live, you have five seconds to give me a reason that doesn't involve 'politics.' Because from where I'm standing, the world is much quieter without the sound of his breathing."
Beside the mansion, Shui Bing'er steps forward, her Silver Kampilan glowing with a cold light as she shields her younger sister, Yue-er. The local soldiers look at the two children and the "God-tier" weapons they hold, and for the first time, they feel the "Hypocrisy" of their own uniforms.
"Three seconds, General," Lakan chirps, his eyes flashing violet-gold. "Make it a good one."