"Li Zhexian pays his respects to Your Holiness, the Pope."
Yet his tone was flat.
In his expression there was not the slightest trace of awe.
Especially now—
he still held the struggling Dai Mubai by the scruff.
Such posture was plainly a sign of contempt toward the Supreme Pontiff.
...
In the Heaven Dou Imperial team's preparation area.
Seeing Li Zhexian instantly defeat Dai Mubai, Dugu Yan, Ye Lingling and the others first showed delight.
Then their faces changed at his blatant disrespect toward the Pope.
Bai Baoshan's worry deepened.
"Spirit Hall sent people to ambush him; Zhexian's resentment is understandable."
"But… that is the Pope…"
Ye Lingling's brows knit. "Compared to the Pope sending a Titled Douluo to ambush without cause, Zhexian has already been very restrained."
Dugu Yan's words were even more intense. "Because she holds supreme authority, she may kill at will?"
"Should he have smiled politely and offered his throat for the blade? Brother Zhexian did nothing wrong!"
Yu Tianheng, Yu Feng, and the others all felt the same way and nodded angrily.
Seeing this, Bai Baoshan's face twisted and re-twisted.
His gaze swept over these youthful, impassioned faces, before at last turning into a weary sigh.
Once upon a time—
he too had acted on a single breath of youthful righteousness.
But time passed, and reality slapped him one blow after another,
long ago snuffing out that youthful ardor.
"How great it is to be young," Bai Baoshan prayed silently in his heart.
"I only hope the Pope will be lenient and not create more trouble."
...
In Shrek preparation area.
Watching Dai Mubai hung like a plucked chick by Li Zhexian, Yu Xiaogang sighed helplessly.
The gap in strength was a chasm—no tactics could bridge it.
"Xiao San, the rest will be on you."
Yu Xiaogang turned to Tang San and said seriously:
"But remember—"
"Team battle is the true battlefield."
"If things are impossible, I give you permission to forfeit and preserve your strength."
Tang San looked at Li Zhexian on the stage and slowly nodded.
He would not lose.
At least not to Li Zhexian.
Ning Rongrong bit her lip, watching Li Zhexian's figure with a complex knot of joy and worry.
"So... so powerful..." Xiao Wu couldn't help but exclaim in a low voice.
Zhu Zhuqing's face showed a trace of pride.
"Of course!" she said.
Yet even as she said it—
Yet her slender hand tightened imperceptibly; worry could not be erased from her eyes.
She should have foreseen it.
With Li Zhexian's temperament, Spirit Hall's ambush would never go unanswered.
...
At that moment—
Noise rippled through the stands.
At first scattered mutterings, then swelling into a tide of accusations against Li Zhexian.
The rare voices raised in his defense were drowned out in the uproar.
"Arrogant! To show such disrespect to the Supreme Pontiff!"
"Young and reckless is one thing, but know the occasion—do you know whom you face?"
"Does Li Zhexian truly think no one can restrain him? He hasn't even met Tang San with his Twin Martial Souls, nor Spirit Hall's golden generation!"
"Ridiculous! Accusing the Pope of dispatching a Titled Douluo to ambush Li Zhexian? Does he even deserve such a response?"
"If the Pope truly wanted him dead, a single decree and he'd be cut down!"
Feng Xiaotian asked Huo Wushuang, "Remember the one who said to behead Zhexian?"
Huo Wushuang nodded.
"After the match—take care of him," Feng Xiaotian said lightly.
Their words were casual, but their looks toward the stage were grave.
That lone white-robed figure, standing before the Pope, unbent and unabashed—
in their eyes mixed gravity, worry, and a measure of admiration.
Someone murmured under their breath:
"So this… is Li Zhexian."
—
On the stage—
Li Zhexian raised his head, his gaze like a sword stabbing toward the high-seated Bibi Dong.
Though his lips carried a faint smile, in the depths of his eyes cold light surged, sharp and merciless.
He was still young, still not yet strong.
He knew well that in many people's eyes, what he did now was no more than an ant shaking a tree—a laughingstock.
He could not move the towering mountain in the slightest, nor harm the one who wished for his death.
But even ants should show their stance.
"Presumptuous, Li Zhexian! Bow your head!"
Yan stepped forward, red hair blazing like fire, pointing and shouting furiously.
"Of all Spirit Masters under heaven, eight or nine out of ten owe their blessings to Spirit Hall—how dare you be so insolent?!"
Xie Yue and Hu Liena's faces too were dark as water. "Li Zhexian, you're far too arrogant…"
At the brink of eruption—
The Pope's scepter in Bibi Dong's hand tapped lightly.
Buzz—
A profound, unfathomable pressure rippled outward like water.
In an instant it smoothed the uproar of the crowd.
Silence reigned.
The gazes fixed on Bibi Dong held only deeper awe.
"Li Zhexian?"
Her voice was calm, ethereal, echoing like a celestial tone.
"Truly—heroes are born young."
At these words, countless eyes turned upon Li Zhexian with even more anger.
But then—
Bibi Dong's voice rose again, carrying the grandeur of one who overlooks all beings.
"From you all, this seat sees the flourishing vitality of the continent. I look forward to witnessing the full measure of your talent and strength."
Her scepter lifted.
Three dazzling lights floated from its tip.
Suspended in midair—
They were Three Spirit Bones: a skull white as jade, a left leg bone infused with the breath of wind, a right arm bone brimming with surging power!
In an instant—
The arena erupted into an uproar.
Greed, desire, awe—every gaze fixed upon the Spirit Bones.
"To the final victor shall this great reward be given."
Bibi Dong's resounding voice declared.
"Continue the matches."
With her words, the bones flashed and vanished before her.
Everyone's minds were forcibly pulled back to the stage.
Li Zhexian withdrew his gaze indifferently.
Bibi Dong was able to sit on the Pope's throne, perhaps with the credit of the elders' support.
But the reason she has sat securely until now is because of her own strength and iron-blooded methods.
In a few short words—
She had dissolved a deadly conflict into nothing.
And in doing so, highlighted the Pope's magnanimity and benevolence.
Such methods… truly terrifying.
"Li… Li Zhexian… release me…"
Dai Mubai's face was purple-red as he struggled, clawing uselessly at the iron grip on his throat.
"Dai Mubai. You were never worth my eyes." Li Zhexian's voice was cold.
The rules forbade killing.
With a flick of his arm, Dai Mubai was hurled like a ragged sack from the stage.
Boom—!
He crashed heavily to the ground, rolling more than ten meters before stopping in disgrace.
"Mu Bai! / Boss Dai!" Yu Xiaogang, Flender, and Oscar rushed forward to support him.
Dai Mubai staggered to his feet, head hanging low, his body trembling from the extremity of humiliation.
'You were never worth my eyes'—
That scornful phrase cut deeper than any blade, shattering all his pride.
His breath came ragged, his evil eyes bloodshot.
The scorching gazes of thousands stabbed into him, leaving him faint with shame.
On the stage—
Li Zhexian's white robes fluttered without wind. His indifferent voice resounded across the arena.
"Next."