Bibi Dong's gaze flicked back to the pink screen. It remained.
[Only you can see me.]
Her pulse quickened.
She stared at the screen for another moment, then waved her hand at her subordinates.
"You two may leave. I wish to be alone."
Though visibly concerned, the two Titled Douluo bowed and exited the hall, leaving her in the quiet of the grand Pope's chamber.
Turning back to the strange, luminous display, she stepped forward slowly.
"What are you?" she whispered.
The Rakshasa God's voice was now barely a whisper—its once-dominant presence reduced to muffled echoes in the corners of her mind. It felt as if something—no, someone—was forcibly severing its influence.
The glowing pink system pulsed again, calm and patient.
[The Strongest Wife System has been successfully bound to Host: Bibi Dong.]
[You are not broken. You are not evil. You were betrayed, abandoned, and used.]
[I exist to give you a choice—a new path. One where your strength is not born from pain, but from healing.]
[To proceed, you must accept the bond. You will become the destined wife of the one who dared defy fate—for your sake.]
Bibi Dong stared at the glowing pink text hovering before her.
"I asked—what are you?" she repeated calmly, her voice now composed and level, no longer trembling with the corrupted fury of the Rakshasa God.
She stood tall, embodying the dignity of the woman who had led Spirit Hall into its golden age—an era of unmatched influence and strength, carved through wisdom and determination, not merely fear.
The screen pulsed softly in reply.
[Hmm… If I had to answer simply, think of me as a Martial Spirit—but one with thought, intention, and the power of creation. I do not require spirit rings to exist, but I can grow stronger when you feed me Spirit Power, which is like nourishment to me.]
Bibi Dong's brow twitched slightly.
A spirit… with will? With the power of creation?
The pink light shimmered again.
[I was created to bind you as the destined wife of someone very special. Someone who, even without knowing you, already seeks to redeem your fate. So… how about a trial proposal?]
Her eyes narrowed. "Trial proposal?" she asked. Was this system mocking her?
[Let's say, ten years. In those ten years, I will remain with you, guide you, and empower you in my own way. If, in that time, you come to love the one I serve—then I will bind to you permanently. If not… I'll leave quietly. You will lose nothing.]
[As for the Rakshasa God...]
The light flickered ominously.
[I have erased her. Permanently. Her divine position now lies dormant within me. She was weak, twisted, and—let's be honest—ugly in spirit and soul. Unworthy of you.]
A cold silence stretched through the chamber.
Bibi Dong's lips parted slightly. The voices in her mind—the fury, the despair—had fallen silent. The suffocating presence of the Rakshasa God was gone. Truly gone.
The system spoke again, gentler now:
[Now that you are free, you should know: if you ascend to godhood through your true Martial Spirit, your potential lies in either the God of Death… or the God of Souls. Both are true First-Class Gods, and potential rivals to even the Angel God.]
[Gods are divided into four levels—Third Class, Second Class, First Class, and God King.]
[The Rakshasa God you once inherited was a First-Class God—but among the weakest. The Angel God, on the other hand, is also First-Class but stands at the peak of that tier—almost touching the threshold of a God King.]
It was also the reason why Shura and the Sea God had worked together to kill her—because otherwise, she would have ascended as the God of Justice, a true God King–level god.
Bibi Dong's expression was unreadable as she absorbed the information.
She felt no grief for the Rakshasa God. Only… clarity.
"And this person," she asked at last, her voice barely above a whisper, "the one you serve—who is he?"
The system pulsed warmly.
[You'll know him soon enough. His name is Li Shen.]
Bibi Dong's eyes flickered, her lips tightening around that name.
Li Shen…?
"How can I live with him for ten years?" Bibi Dong asked, her voice low, almost a whisper. "I am the Pope of Spirit Hall. I lead the strongest force on the continent…"
She paused, a bitter shadow crossing her expression.
"And… I'm dirty."
The words left her lips with quiet finality. Her hands trembled slightly.
Yes, she was the Pope. Respected. Feared. Revered.
But she could not forget the truth buried beneath the gold and purple robes. She had been violated. Her body used without consent. And worst of all, she had borne a child from that act—a daughter she had never truly held, never dared to embrace. Not because she hated the child… but because every time she saw her face, she saw his face—the man who shattered her innocence and chained her soul.
And yet… she regretted it.
She regretted never holding her daughter. Never comforting her.
Never being a mother.
A soft voice resonated in her mind once more:
[It's okay, my Host. I come from an era far beyond this one… In my time, such wounds are not your shame to carry.]
[And for the sake of your position, I can offer you a solution.]
A soft light shimmered before her. In it, a beautiful girl of perfect elegance appeared—like a goddess sculpted from divine jade. A youthful version of herself, but untainted, unscarred.
[I can create an avatar for you. You can customize her name, appearance, and Martial Spirit—though I can't give her a twin Martial Spirit like yours. Later, if you sacrifice a 100,000-year spirit ring, I can even awaken a second one for her.]
[Her body is soulless, so I will link both of you. I'll grant you parallel thought processing, so you can live both lives at once. One as Pope of Spirit Hall… and one as an innocent youth, walking beside my master.]
[My master is six years old now. He's just awakened his Martial Spirit and enrolled in the Junior Academy with others his age. You'll be able to watch him, understand him, and… perhaps see the truth for yourself.]
****
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