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Tang San stared, stunned, at the unscathed Ye Lan and roared:
"Impossible!! Impossible!!"
"The gap between us can't be this big!!"
"There's nothing impossible about it. Face yourself. The moment you lost to me at six years old, you'd never beat me again. Back then was one of your few chances to win—what a waste." Ye Lan looked almost regretful.
"Fake!! It's fake!! There's no way you're completely fine!!" Tang San didn't dare dwell on how vast the gulf between them truly was.
"Chaotic Cloak Hammer!!"
Shattered in spirit, Tang San swung the Clear Sky Hammer over and over, pounding at Ye Lan again and again.
Ye Lan covered a yawn with his left hand and met every blow with only his right.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
With the lightest flicks of his right arm, Ye Lan parried each strike of Tang San's Chaotic Cloak.
No matter how high Tang San stacked the technique, his damage would never surpass a Soul Sage's blow.
And every bit of force he did manage to land, Ye Lan diverted into the Blue Silver around him.
Those Blue Silver vines burst again and again, then regrew again and again, continuously shouldering the damage for Ye Lan.
At last, Tang San's Chaotic Cloak reached its peak stack.
By then he couldn't even properly grip the hammer; all he could do was guide it down toward Ye Lan's space.
Facing the culmination of Tang San's power, Ye Lan simply lowered his right hand and watched with mild interest.
On the final, apex strike of the Chaotic Cloak, the moment the hammer fell toward Ye Lan, the air cracked with a sonic boom.
Countless spectators clapped hands to their ears, but not one eye left the stage.
Ye Lan didn't so much as blink, letting the Clear Sky Hammer slam into his chest.
BOOM!!!
At the instant of impact, the backlash tore Tang San's forearms open in bloody fissures.
With a dull clank, he lost all grip on the hammer; the black weapon dropped straight to the floor.
"That was your full-strength strike? So weak." Ye Lan's disdain was naked.
Seeing Ye Lan wholly unharmed, Tang San clutched his face and collapsed to his knees. His worldview shattered.
His Blue Silver Grass had been crushed by Ye Lan's Blue Silver.
The Eight Spider Lances were crushed by Ye Lan's Ancient Beast's Touch.
And the strongest—the Clear Sky Hammer empowered by the Chaotic Cloak—left Ye Lan unmoved, unharmed.
Tang San wished with all his heart this was a nightmare he'd wake from.
But Ye Lan's next move slapped that wish away.
"Didn't you say you'd grind my bones inch by inch?" Ye Lan crouched in front of him, lightly patting Tang San's cheek.
"No, I didn't—that was just a joke!!" Tang San panicked.
He couldn't die yet!!
He still hadn't completed the Asura God Trials. Once he did, he would surely defeat Ye Lan!!
He would stomp Ye Lan underfoot!!
"Oh? Do me a little favor, then. I've never experienced the feeling of having my bones ground." Ye Lan's voice was casual.
A flood of Blue Silver swallowed Tang San whole.
"Ye Lan, may you die a dog's death!!" Tang San screamed, collapsing.
Ye Lan couldn't be bothered to answer. His actions would explain who was going to die.
Crack—krrk!!
Crack!!
Bone after bone compressed and snapped, splintering from Tang San's toes up along his shins toward his thighs.
Fragments embedded in flesh; the golden Blue Silver binding him ran with sheets of blood.
"AAAAAAHHHH!!!" Tang San howled. In his head there was only pain.
In the stands, a man in a black robe clenched his hands until they bled, forced to listen as his son screamed.
He didn't dare rush the stage.
Right beside the platform stood a Level 96 Sword Douluo and a Level 95 Bone Douluo. He had no confidence of beating the two.
And not just Sword and Bone—
Tang Hao knew there were also Snake Lance Douluo, Porcupinefish Douluo, Poison Douluo, and the newly risen Star Douluo inside the Great Spirit Arena.
Six Douluo in total—he couldn't beat that even at his peak, let alone now, with his wounds unhealed.
He could only watch Tang San's agony and pray his son wouldn't be crippled.
In his heart he made a choice: if Tang San truly was ruined by Ye Lan,
then no matter the cost to his face or name, he would kill Ye Lan.
If Tang San survived, he'd let it pass.
Because the Ye Lan of today was someone he could no longer afford to offend.
The Haotian Sect's forebear—his own grandfather, Tang Chen—had yet to show his face.
With the Haotian Sect's current strength, there was no contending against six Title Douluo close to Ye Lan.
And not to mention anyone else—Poison Douluo Dugu Bo alone could kill every non-Title member of the Haotian Sect with toxins.
"We of Shrek Academy surrender!!!" Yu Xiaogang staggered toward the stage, voice cracking.
Ye Lan released the Blue Silver. As the vines vanished, "blood-man" Tang San crumpled, limp.
"Referee! I'm filing a complaint!! The Heaven Dou Imperial Academy is committing murder!!" Yu Xiaogang raged.
"Look at them—every Shrek student who faced Heaven Dou is covered head to toe in wounds!!!"
The referee peered closely: Tang San, Xiao Wu, Dai Mubai, Ma Hongjun, Oscar, Huang Yuan, Tailong—all slashed and battered, caked in blood or clots.
Hearing Yu Xiaogang's accusation, Ye Lan sneered:
"Yu Xiaogang, I'll return Tang San's own words to the Second Team—word for word."
"Tell me—did any of them die?"
"You—!!"
Pfft!!
Yu Xiaogang spat a mouthful of blood, enraged near to rupture.
Watching his son's blood-drenched body, Tang Hao was torn. He had no idea how bad the injuries truly were.
As he wavered, Ye Lan finished admiring Shrek's collective misery and said, "Leng Leng, treat Shrek."
Yu Xiaogang looked at Ye Lan in confusion, unsure of his intent.
Ye Lan smiled. "If you Shrek folks ever want me to stretch my muscles again, I'll be there. The package includes a Nine-Heart Begonia recovery plan."
"Isn't this your usual routine? Abuse your opponents, then let your healer patch them up."
"Referee, with that, Shrek has no objections left. Announce it."
"Shrek Academy vs. Heaven Dou Imperial Academy—Heaven Dou Imperial Academy wins!!" the referee declared.
As Ye Lan finished, a rain of Nine-Heart Begonia petals drifted down over Shrek's team.
In moments, Tang San and the others' wounds were mostly closed.
Dai Mubai kept his face storm-dark, not daring to meet Zhu Zhuqing's or Ye Lan's eyes.
Oscar woke from his faint; his heart hurt more than his body.
Xiao Wu, like a frightened rabbit, leapt straight into Tang San's arms.
Supporting Yu Xiaogang and Xiao Wu, Tang San cast Ye Lan a complicated glance and hobbled down the steps.
He had lost—utterly.
In front of everyone, Ye Lan had crushed him beneath his heel.
In his ears, the crowd still chanted the "Azure Emperor's" name.
In the VIP seats, Emperor Xue Ye sprang up, cheering. "Well struck!! At last Team Heaven Dou has vented the gloom in my chest!!"
Ning Fengzhi applauded. "Worthy of a 'scholar,' Little Lan. That match was spectacular."
Salas watched Tang San's retreating back, thoughtful. Since yesterday he'd already filed Tang San's dossier to the Hall of the Pope.
If Her Holiness gave the word, his Warrior Corps would suppress Tang San at once.
Shrek Academy Dorms, Midnight
After a long, intimate interlude, Liu Erlong finally left Yu Xiaogang's room.
Moments later, a shadow slipped inside.
"Who's there!!?" Yu Xiaogang jolted at the sudden figure.
Tang Hao pulled back his hood, revealing a weathered face.
"My idol!! Your Lordship Haotian—what brings you?" Yu Xiaogang blurted, thrilled.
"No nonsense. You saw how Little San did. He had no power to fight Ye Lan. I'm taking him away to train," Tang Hao said, brooking no argument.
Yu Xiaogang's face changed. He still needed Tang San's glory to make his own name. Taking him now—what was he supposed to do?
"Your Lordship, at least wait until after the finals! Then take Little San for training!" he pleaded.
"Oh? Do you have some way to raise his strength quickly?" Tang Hao asked, feigning curiosity.
"I have ties with the Hall's Pope, Bibi Dong—the only twin-spirit Title Douluo alive. I can ask how she bears so many rings and reached Title," Yu Xiaogang said quickly.
Tang Hao nodded, satisfied. He trusted Yu Xiaogang with Little San precisely because of his connection to Bibi Dong.
Through Yu Xiaogang, he could pry out the secrets of cultivating twin spirits.
"Good. Do it fast. You know how hollow Little San's soul power is—I needn't say it. Once we learn twin-spirit secrets, I'll take him into seclusion and temper that power," Tang Hao said solemnly.
Tang San's soul power—cultivated by draining soul beasts' vitality—Tang Hao had known first.
When he'd found the method had no side effects beyond that hollowness, he'd allowed Tang San to continue the "crooked path."
"I'll get it done, Your Lordship. In fact, even if you hadn't come, I was planning to visit the Hall tomorrow," Yu Xiaogang said.
"Then Little San is fortunate to have a teacher like you. Enough talk—I'm gone." Tang Hao faded into the dark.
As he vanished, Yu Xiaogang whispered, "Bibi Dong…"
He hadn't been flattering Tang Hao—he truly intended to go to the Hall.
Asking twin-spirit secrets for Little San was only part of it. His real target was the Hall's Grand Archives.
With Shrek thoroughly defeated—Oscar surpassed by Ning Rongrong, Dai Mubai by Zhu Zhuqing, and Ye Lan crushing their academy—he'd braced for failing to take the championship.
Even five years from now, even if all of Shrek leveraged Tang San's Eight Spider Lances to become Soul Kings—
Ye Lan would still be young enough to compete in the Advanced Spirit Master Elite Tournament.
Counting on a championship was only wishful thinking.
So he set his sights on the Hall's stored lore on martial spirits.
He would ride new theory to fame across the continent—crushing Ye Lan's "New Martial Spirit Competitiveness" once and for all.
Papal Palace, beneath the Holy Seat
Bibi Dong worked through memorials with cool focus. She lifted her gaze to the bowing shadow and said:
"Ghost, what is it?"
"Your Holiness, the Platinum Bishop of the Heaven Dou City Cathedral sends word—an important message," Ghost Douluo said, presenting a white-gold scroll.
Bibi Dong accepted and unrolled it.
"Oh? A set of twin spirits appeared in the Heaven Dou division this year?"
Her interest piqued; she read Salas's report quickly.
"Blue Silver Grass and the Clear Sky Hammer? Isn't that the child Tang Hao took? And he's Yu Xiaogang's disciple as well?"
She gave a small, self-mocking smile. "Amusing."
If Yu Xiaogang had taken Tang Hao's son as a disciple, then he truly didn't put her in his eyes. Her judgment of that old "love" years ago stood confirmed.
It didn't matter—she was past all that.
She considered how to handle Tang Hao's son, Tang San.
If not for Ye Lan, she could simply dispatch Chrysanthemum and Ghost to deal with it.
But Ye Lan's parents had also died by Tang Hao's hand. She wouldn't be rash in moving against Tang Hao's child.
"Your Holiness, how shall we handle Tang Hao's son? He's not yet fifteen, already a Level Forty-Two Soul Sect—more terrifying than Hu Liena at the same age—and with twin spirits."
"Shall we…?" Ghost drew a finger across his throat.
Bibi Dong tapped the desk twice. "You and Chrysanthemum will go to Heaven Dou City and meet Ye Lan for me. Tell him about Tang Hao's son."
"Then do as Ye Lan advises."
"As you command." Ghost turned to leave.
"Wait. Ghost, tell me how the Heaven Dou Royal Academy performed. Did Little Xue take the field?" Bibi Dong asked, stopping him.
Ten Days Later, before the Papal Palace
"Halt!!" Two silver-armored Hall Knights barred the path of a close-cropped, bearded middle-aged man. A hundred more drew swords behind the steps.
Yu Xiaogang didn't flinch. He drew a token from his breast.
A token Haotian himself had once given him—finally useful.
The gate knights saw it and bowed. "Elder!!"
"Take me to the Pope," Yu Xiaogang said, hands clasped behind him, eyes for no one.
"Yes, sir!"
Moments later, they led him to the doors of the Papal Hall and motioned him onward alone.
He strode in grandly. At once his eyes fell upon the twenty-meter dais and, beneath the Holy Seat, a violet-haired woman in a gold-embroidered robe and nine-bend coronet.
Pride rose unbidden—Bibi Dong had once been his ambiguous flame.
He had just begun to take in her features when she looked up—and after more than twenty years, saw Yu Xiaogang again.
A crushing aura slammed him flat to the floor.
"Did I permit you to raise your head to me?" Bibi Dong's voice cracked like a whip.
"Ah!!"
Yu Xiaogang sprawled splayed, pinned to the tiles.
Terror rushed through him. What happened?
Why was Bibi Dong treating him like this—had she forgotten their "years of feeling"?
"It's me!! It's me—Xiao Gang!!" he flailed and cried.
"Mind your tongue, Yu Xiaogang." Bibi Dong propped her chin on one hand, gazing at the bristly, close-cropped man.
Looking at such a figure, shame and anger flared—how had she ever fancied him?
She must have been blind.
"Speak. Why have you come?" She eased the pressure—slightly.
Relief washed over him. He knelt, lowered his head, and said:
"Your Holiness, I have a request."
"What is it?"
"I wish to know how you overcame the barrier of twin spirits. The more rings on twin spirits, the greater the chance of sudden death—how did you become a Title Douluo?" he asked softly.
"That has nothing to do with you. If there's nothing else, be gone," Bibi Dong said coolly.
"I have a disciple—he has trained with me more than eight years. He, too, possesses twin spirits. I want to raise him into a peerless powerhouse! For the sake of our years together—please tell me," Yu Xiaogang begged.
"You mean Tang Hao's son—Tang San? So you want me to hand the secrets of cultivating twin spirits to Tang Hao's child—so he can take revenge on the Spirit Hall?" Bibi Dong's smile cut like a blade.
Yu Xiaogang blanched. He hadn't expected Tang San's identity to be exposed already!
"N-no!! No!! Your Holiness—if you tell me the secret, I guarantee Tang San will never stand against the Spirit Hall!!"
"Your guarantee?" she asked lightly.
"I—"
"Enough. You don't need the secret. Go prepare a corpse for Tang San. I've already dispatched Title Douluo to deal with him," Bibi Dong said, bored.
"You—!!! Bibi Dong!! If anything happens to Tang San, I will destroy the Spirit Hall at all costs!!" Yu Xiaogang roared.
"Impudent." One cold syllable—and darkness swallowed him where he knelt.
Looking at the crumpled figure in her hall, Bibi Dong's heart filled with disgust.
Ridiculous—that she had pined for this man for twenty years.
He knew Tang Hao was wanted by the Hall, yet he took Tang Hao's son as his disciple—and now tried to leverage a twenty-year-old "relationship" to steal cultivation secrets from the Pope herself.
A vast tide of violet soul power surged up from the Papal Hall, spearing the sky.
Citizens of Spirit City saw the pillar of dark-violet power and knelt toward the Papal Hall in worship.
Moments later, Bibi Dong drew back the killing intent.
She had changed her mind. She'd been ready to crush Yu Xiaogang then and there—
—but that would be too easy.
He worshiped fame and reputation, didn't he?
He aimed to make Tang San a Title Douluo, ride that to glory, reclaim the title of "Grandmaster," didn't he?
Then she would see him ruined, living worse than dead.
She would make him watch as his greatest hope—Tang San—was extinguished by Ye Lan.
"Throw him out. Don't let him foul my sight," she said.
Two silver-armored knights dragged Yu Xiaogang from the Papal Hall.
Outside, they exhaled in relief.
Only in recent years had Her Holiness become so just and wise to subordinates; a few years ago, they would have been in mortal danger just for standing nearby.
Looking at the unconscious, bearded man, anger rose. This was the worm who had dared anger the Pope?
They ground their boot soles into his face.
Still fuming, they yanked off their sweat-soaked socks and stuffed them into his mouth.
Before Dawn—A Cold Wind
"Mm—" Yu Xiaogang jerked awake from a nightmare, shivering.
A salty, sour stench shot straight to his skull.
Urgh!!
He tore the two reeking socks from his mouth and dry-heaved until bile came up.
After a long moment, he took stock.
Seeing he was still somewhere within the Papal complex, he exhaled.
Good—he hadn't been thrown out. Otherwise, getting into the Grand Archives would be impossible.
He studied his surroundings, piecing together locations from decades-old memory.
Soon he found his bearings and hurried toward the archives.
Before long, he stood beneath a spiral, circular tower.
Staring up at the imposing library, he sighed inwardly: this was the Spirit Hall's storehouse of tens of thousands of years of knowledge!
The fools of the Hall—they didn't even realize this archive was their most precious treasure, guarding it with only two men.
He straightened his clothes and strode toward the entrance.
The doorkeepers blocked him at once. "Unauthorized persons forbidden!"
Yu Xiaogang flicked out his token. "Look carefully."
"Elder—please enter!" They bowed.
Inside, shelves upon shelves of categorized volumes stretched away. Only a few Hall staff shuffled about, tending the stacks.
Breathing deeply, he savored the scent of ink and old paper—greed flaring.
If he could plunder these records, his return as the continent's foremost theorist would only be a matter of time.
He slipped into a ring of circular shelves thick with ancient tomes.
Four characters blazed across the topper: Research on Martial Spirits.
Golden light flashed in his eyes. He swallowed; his hands trembled.
He began rifling for anything useful.
Any "martial-spirit knowledge" that caught his eye, he ripped free and stuffed into his soul tool.
He had no time to study; he needed volume. Quantity. Everything.
Ye Lan's "New Martial Spirit Competitiveness" would not be easy to overturn.
He would consolidate as much of the Hall's knowledge as possible—and grind Ye Lan's theories beneath his heel.
In the height of his frenzied looting, three figures appeared behind him.
(End of Chapter)