In front of the Pope's Palace, the scent of wine and delicious food filled the air.
Besides the geniuses from the various academy teams, there were also a small number of remaining audience, numbering up to several hundred people.
Over a dozen gathered at a single table,
cups clinking, chatter rising—lively and boisterous.
The Spirit Master tournament, which started at 5 p.m., had gone through fierce battles and the award ceremony, and it was now 7 p.m.
Li Zhexian held a Clear Spring Wine Gourd, sipping mouthful after mouthful, quietly recovering his Spirit Power.
His gaze drifted past the noise.
The sinking sun tore the clouds into blood-red tatters,
like war-torn banners strewn across the dimming sky.
"Hey, idol, why do you look so down?" Yu Feng placed his wine pot on the table, his eyes bleary with drunkenness.
"Spirit Hall is rich and powerful!"
"Even the Fragrant Pavilion can't compare with wine like this!"
"…Doesn't suit my taste," Li Zhexian began, but before he could finish—
"Yo-ho!" Friends from the next table squeezed in.
"Make room! Make room!" Huo Wu dragged Shui Bing'er over and forced her into a seat.
Feng Xiaotian and Huo Wushuang simply crossed their legs and sat on the table's corners.
"It's rare to hear brother Zhexian be picky about wine. This wine is indeed a little too sweet!"
Zhu Zhuqing led the awkward Xiao Wu to stand on the outside. "Li Zhexian..."
"Can we join too?"
Without waiting for Li Zhexian to respond, Huo Wu stood up and dragged the two of them to her side.
"What's there to be polite about! Haven't we all been to the Fragrant Pavilion together before?"
This table had originally seated only Li Zhexian and the seven from Emperial Batle Team,
with room to spare.
Now, it was completely packed.
Looking at these eager, lively faces, Li Zhexian slowly exhaled his pent-up breath.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Their laughter drew many glances.
People looked toward the group of spirited youths at the very front,
their eyes inevitably drawn most to the white-robed youth at the center—
their gazes filled with envy and awe.
At another table, Spirit Masters from Heaven Dou City scribbled furiously.
"Record it all!"
"Lord Sword Wine's bonds with others are truly remarkable!"
"It's enough to make one envious just to watch!"
The banquet was not yet half over
when an unexpected figure staggered toward Li Zhexian's table.
Seeing who it was, everyone frowned.
Yu Tianheng's voice turned cold:
"Why don't you sit with your Spirit Hall? What are you doing here?"
Yan ignored his question, and ignored the angry glares from the others.
He fixed his eyes on Li Zhexian,
his sole remaining left hand holding a cup of wine.
Li Zhexian didn't rise. His tone was calm: "What is it?"
"I've come to have a drink with you." Seeing that Li Zhexian made no move, Yan showed no anger.
Instead, his pale face curved in a thin smile.
Then he leaned down,
the cup in his left hand tapping against Li Zhexian's before him.
He bent down,
lifted his cup,
and lightly tapped it against Li Zhexian's.
And in that brief lean forward,
he locked eyes with Li Zhexian, and whispered:
"Li Zhexian…"
"So what if you've won?"
"I'll be waiting to see the moment you die with regret!"
With that—
he threw back his head, drained the cup in one gulp,
then laughed loudly and turned back to Spirit Hall's table.
Feng Xiaotian frowned.
"Zhexian, what did that guy say to you?"
Huo Wushuang frowned.
"Should we beat him down before we leave Spirit City?"
"He won't live past tonight."
Li Zhexian's smiling words turned the table's warmth instantly cold.
And before anyone could ask further—
a chorus of respectful voices rose around them:
"Greetings to Her Holiness the Pope!"
Everyone turned—
to see Bibi Dong, clad in resplendent robes,
Pope's scepter in hand,
walking toward them with regal grace.
Li Zhexian exchanged glances with his companions, then rose and bowed.
"Greetings, Your Holiness."
"Please rise." Bibi Dong's voice was calm as she sat down in the main seat. Her appearance made the relaxed atmosphere stiff.
On her stunning face,
a faint smile appeared.
"Do not mind me," she said softly.
"This Pope would not spoil your enjoyment."
And at those words—
The atmosphere at the banquet table had only just begun to ease.
After a while, maids moved between the seats, adding food and refilling cups.
At that moment—
Bibi Dong suddenly spoke.
Her voice carried over the entire hall, drowning out the noise:
"In this year's Spirit Master Tournament, this Pope has witnessed the rise of many promising talents."
"And among them, Heaven Dou Imperial Battle Team's Li Zhexian…"
Her gaze fell directly on the white-robed youth.
"Would you be willing to join my Spirit Hall?"
She paused briefly, then continued:
"If you agree, you may enter the Elder Hall directly."
"And become the youngest Elder in the history of the Spirit Hall."
The entire hall fell silent in an instant.
Countless shocked, envious, and jealous gazes shot toward Li Zhexian like arrows.
A personal invitation from the Pope!
The position of Elder promised!
What boundless glory this was!
"Lord Sword Wine will definitely not agree!" The Heavenly Dou City Spirit Master wrote without stopping. "But the Pope herself extended the invitation!"
"Truly an unparalleled honor!"
"Write it down! Quickly, record it all!"
At Shrek's table—
Yu Xiaogang's brows tightened, then he let out a weary sigh.
Until this very moment, he had been the youngest Elder in Spirit Hall's history.
Ning Rongrong lowered her head, sorrow deepening across her delicate face.
Zhu Zhuqing could at least remain at Li Zhexian's side, but Ning Rongrong lacked even the courage to approach.
Tang San and Dai Mubai wore icy expressions, silent.
"Zhexian…" Feng Xiaotian and the others looked at him nervously.
As heirs of sects and academies,
If Li Zhexian truly entered Spirit Hall, moments like this—drinking and laughing together at the same table—might never happen again.
Though they knew his temperament—
the title of Elder of the Spirit Hall was a station equal to their own Deans and Sect Masters.
Under the weight of countless stares—
Li Zhexian met Bibi Dong's gaze.
Then spoke calmly, uttering two words that shocked everyone present:
"I don't want to."
His companions beside him let out a quiet breath of relief, their admiration for him rising even higher.
"A hero truly emerges from the young."
Bibi Dong's tone remained unreadable.
After saying this,
she said nothing more.
Seeing that the Pope seemed to let it pass,
Li Zhexian's friends finally eased their hearts.
The atmosphere regained some liveliness.
After all, this was in front of the Pope's Palace, and no one dared to be too unrestrained.
By the time the setting sun fully sank into the sea of clouds, leaving only faint crimson streaks along the horizon,
the grand banquet had reached its end.
A red-clad cardinal hurried to Bibi Dong's side, whispering some report.
The guests, already rising to their feet, paid it no mind.
Together, they bowed:
"Thank you, Your Holiness the Pope,"
And prepared to depart.
Li Zhexian followed Dugu Yan, Ye Lingling, Yu Tianheng and the others, turning to make his way down the mountain.
But then—
"Li Zhexian, remain a moment." Bibi Dong's cold voice echoed.
"This Pope has questions for you."
Li Zhexian's steps halted abruptly.
He slowly closed his eyes, then snapped them open—
a gleam of sword qi burst forth, brushing aside the strands of hair at his brow.
He turned, answering calmly:
"What is it Your Holiness wishes to ask?"
Dugu Yan, Ye Lingling, Yu Tianheng, and the others, along with all of Li Zhexian's companions, fell silent and turned back as well.
An oppressive tension, suffocating and strange, spread without warning.
At that very moment—
the last trace of the sun's outline sank completely below the horizon.
Darkness fell like a curtain, leaving only a few bloody streaks of red fading along the sky's edge.
Everyone stopped in place.
They turned back—
to see Bibi Dong, her ornate white gown seeming darkened beneath the gray heavens, her presence towering higher and higher in their senses.
A chilling stillness blanketed the mountainside.
The air itself seemed to solidify,
so heavy it was hard to breathe.
Only Bibi Dong's indifferent voice was heard, rippling out in the rising night wind, each word like ice: "Half a year ago..."
"Six Spirit Kings and eleven Spirit Elders of Spirit Hall
were slain near the Wind-Gathering Mountains of the Star Luo Empire."
"The killer was a master of the sword."
"On the corpses of those seventeen deacons…"
"Most bore traces of sword intent identical to yours, Li Zhexian."