The Holy Spirit Church exited the arena, but the tournament pressed on.
By evening, twenty-six matches had concluded.
Yet for the next seven bouts, many spectators had already lost interest. It wasn't just that the competing teams lacked the brilliance of earlier matches—it was the Holy Spirit Church's savage, blood-soaked brutality that had seared itself into the audience's minds and eyes, leaving deep psychological scars.
An invisible storm was quietly brewing in the shadows.
---
Mingyue Hotel.
After today's events, the hotel's atmosphere had grown tense. Teams yet to compete watched in grim silence as defeated squads—some mourning fallen comrades—quietly packed their belongings and departed. A shared dread hung thick in the air.
Especially after witnessing Di Ao Academy's horrific fate.
What had begun as competitive anxiety had now twisted into outrage and fear.
No one knew whether they might face those evil soul masters next—or suffer Di Ao's same end.
Right now, public sentiment was a powder keg.
All it needed was a single spark to ignite.
---
After dinner, Chen Junting and Ning Tian returned to their room.
"Xiao Tian," Chen Junting said suddenly, "I won't be attending tomorrow's matches."
"All the teams truly worthy of our attention have already competed today," he explained. "For the rest, neither Old Gu nor I will step onto the field. So you take Xin and the others to observe our potential opponents."
"Understood," Ning Tian replied without surprise—it had been agreed upon long ago. She stood behind the sofa, gently massaging his shoulders. "So you're taking Yuhao and Tianchen to scout those locations you mentioned earlier?"
"Mm." Chen Junting gave a slight nod, saying no more.
Just as they prepared to rest—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A series of urgent, forceful knocks echoed at the door—clearly from someone in great haste.
Ning Tian released Chen Junting's shoulders and went to answer.
"Who is it?"
"Miss Ning Tian, it's me—Xu Jiujiu."
The voice belonged to Princess Xu Jiujiu of Star Luo Empire.
Ning Tian glanced back at Chen Junting. They both had a fair idea why she'd come. Opening the door, she welcomed Xu Jiujiu—and her guardian, Star Cloud Douluo—inside.
"Your Highness, please sit," Ning Tian said, setting out tea ware while Chen Junting personally brewed the tea.
"You two likely have some idea why I'm here," Xu Jiujiu said, her earlier fury now replaced by calm composure. She even took a leisurely sip from her teacup.
"We can guess the general idea," Chen Junting replied after pouring tea for Starcloud Douluo. "I assume the Holy Spirit Church's actions have left Your Highness—and other teams—deeply unsettled. Am I right?"
Xu Jiujiu: …What do you mean "me and other teams"? Aren't you worried too?
Suppressing her irritation, she offered a practiced royal smile.
"The Holy Spirit Church's deeds are an affront to heaven and earth. Their massacre of Di Ao Academy has terrified every participating team. No one wishes to follow in their footsteps."
Her eyes then blazed with suppressed fury.
"And… I suspect Xu Tianran's true goal is to use them as a blade—to slaughter our Three Great Empires' finest young geniuses and sever our generational continuity."
"It seems great minds think alike," Chen Junting remarked.
This world wasn't short of clever people.
Di Ao Academy was merely the first sacrifice in this grand ritual.
Ning Tian then asked, "So what does Your Highness plan to do?"
Xu Jiujiu's anger settled into solemn resignation, then weary helplessness. She sighed. "Organized boycott."
Ning Tian blinked. That's it?
"Will… that actually work?"
"Maybe. Maybe not," Xu Jiujiu admitted. "But right now, teams from all empires—including Sun Moon's own—are furious beyond words. Even Sun Moon's common folk despise evil soul masters."
She leaned forward slightly. "According to our spies, over half a year ago, a major incident in Mingdu made the already-hated evil soul masters utterly unforgivable in the eyes of Sun Moon citizens. Now, the Holy Spirit Church's actions have turned public sentiment into a powder keg. If we ignite it—if we stir a media storm—it might force Xu Tianran to back down."
Chen Junting cut in sharply, "How confident are you, Princess?"
"Optimistically… seventy percent."
---
Fifteen minutes later, Xu Jiujiu departed.
She'd come seeking the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect's support. After all, with the Seven Treasures Pavilion deeply rooted in Mingdu for years, no faction was better positioned to sway public opinion.
In the end, Ning Tian agreed.
She'd already learned from her mother that not only was the Seven Treasures Pavilion evacuating Mingdu, but the entire sect was systematically withdrawing its assets from the Sun Moon Empire.
With no lingering concerns, she saw no reason not to give Xu Tianran a major headache.
After sending Gu Tianchen to relay orders to the Seven Treasures Pavilion, Ning Tian returned to Chen Junting's side, nestling into his embrace.
"Brother Junting… do you think Xu Jiujiu will succeed?"
"No."
His reply was absolute.
"Why?"
"Because if Xu Tianran dared to let this happen, he already has a solution ready. And remember—this is the heart of the Sun Moon Empire, his own territory…"
---
Meanwhile—
"Your Highness! Disaster! Your High—"
An official, having passed the guards' inspection, burst into the chamber shouting—only to choke mid-sentence as if his throat had been crushed shut.
Inside the room, deathly silence reigned.
Scattered across the floor were imperial memorials—sending the official's hairs standing on end.
"I'm unwell?" Xu Tianran suddenly lifted his head, eyes blazing with predatory hunger. The gentle, scholarly mask he usually wore had vanished; in its place was raw, terrifying brutality that had long haunted every official's nightmares. One glare, one question—and the man collapsed, kowtowing frantically for mercy.
"Spare me, Your Highness! Please spare me!"
"Speak!" Xu Tianran roared. "What has happened?!"
Trembling, the official spilled everything:
After the Holy Spirit Church's brutal slaughter of Di Ao Academy's seven members, underground currents of outrage had surged to the surface—threatening to erupt into a tsunami of public condemnation. If left unchecked…
The official dared not finish. He kept his head bowed low, trying to vanish into the floorboards.
Just then, another official arrived.
At the sight of him, the first official breathed a sigh of relief.
Compared to himself, this newcomer bore far greater blame—he was the one directly in charge of the tournament.
If heads were to roll, this man would be first.
"Minister Wang Hou, paying respects to His Highness the Regent Prince," the man announced—then thudded to his knees, sweat pouring down his face.
"Wang Hou," Xu Tianran said coldly, "do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Wang Hou immediately began pleading. "Your Highness, this matter has little to do with me! Please spare my life!"
Xu Tianran stared down at him, watching impassively as Wang Hou battered his forehead against the floor until blood flowed.
Then, softly, he spoke:
"I wish to borrow one thing from you… to calm the people's hearts."
Wang Hou's eyes lit up with desperate hope.
He's pardoning me!
Without hesitation, he cried, "Since birth, every part of me belongs to the Empire! How dare I speak of 'borrowing'?!"
"Good," Xu Tianran nodded.
A flash of lethal intent glinted in his eyes.
"Then today… I shall borrow your head."
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