The words dropped like stones into a still pond. For a moment, silence reigned.
Then came a burst of laughter—sharp, cold, mocking.
"Exiled?" Bibi Dong's laughter rolled out like the hiss of a poisonous spider. "What a clever trick. First, commit an unforgivable sin… then wash your hands of it by casting away the culprit. Do you take us all for fools?"
Her eyes narrowed, glinting with venomous intelligence. "People say, a monk can run away, but not his temple. I never thought you brutish Clear Sky people would have such an ingenious solution."
This is a fight to gain prestige for her before she became a pope, she will make sure there is a proper fight.
Her words were needles, meant to pierce the pride of the sect.
The Grand Elder's soul power surged, his white hair lifting as his fury ignited. But before his wrath could turn into action, Tang Zhan raised his hand again, his expression heavy.
"Then this fight cannot be avoided," he sighed.
The ground trembled faintly as both sides prepared to erupt. Soul rings shimmered in the dusk light, killing intent stretching taut like a drawn bow.
But before steel met steel, Ning Fengzhi's calm, cultured voice cut through the storm.
"If I may," he said, his tone smooth, almost conversational, but his words sharp as blades, "I would like to ask something of Spirit Hall."
All gazes turned toward him, some impatient, others curious. Ning Fengzhi only smiled faintly, folding his fan with elegance.
"What would the soul masters of the Douluo Continent think," he asked softly, "if they learned that Spirit Hall—the greatest power in the land—uses its might not to guide, not to protect, but to bully? To hound the Clear Sky Clan, even after they acknowledged their mistakes?"
The words fell like seeds, each sprouting suspicion and unease in the minds of those listening.
No one from Spirit Hall answered. The silence was heavy.
Ning Fengzhi's smile deepened, sharp as the edge of a blade hidden in silk. "Then, as one of the three great clans, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan must stand by our Clear Sky brothers. We cannot allow injustice to reign."
He gestured with his fan, and behind him Chen Xin and Gu Rong stepped forward. Their combined aura surged like a rising storm.
At the same moment, Yu Yuanzhen rose, his martial soul manifesting with the Dragon aura shaking the air, his intent clear.
The tide seemed to shift—until a voice thundered down, heavy and suffocating, making even Titled Douluos shudder.
"Brat Ning!" the voice boomed, carrying contempt that chilled bone. "Still wet behind the ears, daring to speak of justice? Your old man had the sense not to meddle in grievances beyond his reach."
A tall man strode forth, his steps like hammer blows upon the earth. A heavy cloak trailed behind him, but what truly froze the gathered Douluos was the overwhelming force he radiated.
Nine soul rings appeared around him—two yellow, two purple, four black, and one scarlet, each glowing like a burning sun.
The second worshiper of Spirit Hall, Golden Crocodile Douluo.
The oppressive might of his aura crashed down like an endless sea. It wasn't simply pressure—it was domination, the natural order of strength declaring its rule.
Even Chen Xin's hand trembled as he instinctively tightened the hold on his Martial Soul: Seven Kill Sword. He forced his voice calm but low, murmuring, "Level 99… Ultimate Douluo."
The words spread like fire through dry grass. Faces blanched.
Golden Crocodile Douluo sneered, his sharp eyes landing on Ning Fengzhi.
"Brat Ning, perhaps I should stroll to your Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan tomorrow. Rampage as I please. Kill whom I like. And afterward, Spirit Hall will announce I was… exiled."
Ning Fengzhi's composure cracked for the first time. His fan stilled in his hand, his spine stiff. A cold sweat trickled down his back as true dread clawed into his heart.
He bowed deeply, his voice respectful, hurried. "Senior, consider my words foolish. Please forgive them."
Golden Crocodile turned his gaze to Chen Xin. His voice softened slightly, carrying a rare respect.
"Your father was a swordsman worthy of his title. I witnessed his battle against Elder Brother."
Chen Xin, though trembling under the weight of the aura, lowered his sword and bowed deeply. "Junior thanks Senior for his recognition."
Then Golden Crocodile's gaze slid toward Yu Yuanzhen, whose Dragon aura had been flaring faintly.
"And you, Yu Yuanzhen? What do you think?"
Yu Yuanzhen's heart pounded in his chest. The oppressive aura made his Dragon blood boil in rebellion, but reason crushed pride. He quickly clasped his fists and bowed. "I am but a witness here, Senior. Nothing more."
Golden Crocodile gave a low laugh, cold and satisfied. The message was clear.
Tang Zhan, watching this, felt his heart sink. His hand clenched around his wine gourd until the wood creaked.
'In the face of true power', he thought bitterly, 'alliances collapse like sand.'
The fate of the Clear Sky Clan was already hanging by a thread.
Golden Crocodile Douluo harrumphed, his deep voice shaking the ground like thunder.
"Enough dilly-dallying. Attack."
His command carried the weight of heaven itself.
As if waiting for the signal, Bibi Dong's cold voice rang out, sharp and merciless. Her body twisted, black and purple light erupting around her. The grotesque form of the Death Spider Emperor manifested behind her, its scarlet eyes gleaming with hunger.
"Kill them all!" she shrieked, her voice reverberating like the hiss of a thousand spiders.
The battlefield ignited.