Star Luo Empire, Clear Sky City.
As the headquarters of the world's first sect, the Clear Sky Sect, it had held a transcendent status in the soul master world since Clear Sky Douluo Tang Chen's rise. Especially after the "Two Peaks Battle" over twenty years ago, where Tang Chen defeated Qian Daoliu and solidified his position as the world's strongest, its prestige soared. Clear Sky Sect disciples walking abroad even revered Clear Sky City as the continent's foremost soul master holy land.
However, this once soul master holy land was now shrouded in a deathly oppressive silence.
Outside the city gates, dense soul master legions spread like a tide, their battle armor gleaming coldly under the glaring sun. It was a clear, sunny day, yet it sent chills from the inside out.
At the forefront, a golden-armored general sat on horseback with sword drawn, eyes like lightning. Behind him, blood-red war banners fluttered wildly in the wind, the angelic patterns on them facing Clear Sky City, as if ready to purify its filth at any moment.
There was no clamor, no pre-battle taunts—only heavy breathing and occasional horse snorts echoing in the wilderness. This silence was more suffocating than the roars of a thousand armies—it was the stillness before the storm, where even the wind dared not stir.
On the city walls, disciples of the single-attribute four clans stared down intently, knuckles white from gripping. They could clearly see the rising soul ring lights below: white, yellow, purple, black—interweaving into a heart-palpitating glow. Even several pressures strong enough to make Soul Douluos tremble pressed toward the gates like mountains, causing dust in the wall cracks to trickle down.
The golden-armored, golden-haired general glanced indifferently and said coldly: "Just you bugs? Where's Tang Hao? Turned into a turtle hiding in its shell?"
His voice, laced with killing intent and backed by powerful soul power, echoed over the battlefield. Those on the walls felt endless murderous aura assault them, like a hand gripping their hearts—this was surely a battle-hardened god of slaughter.
"Old Qian bastard, if my master were here, you'd be pissing yourself in fear. How dare you act so arrogant?"
On the wall, a burly, white-haired elder roared at the golden-armored general.
The general's gaze grew even colder, as if looking at a dead man.
"Heh, a Soul Douluo at least, yet you act like a dog with a superiority complex. Tai Tan, you're quite the talent."
The general was this generation's deputy commander of the Angel Legion, titled "Dawn." The Angel Legion consisted of Angel family branches and some light-type soul masters, with commanders always being Angel Douluos. They cleared degenerate soul masters harming the continent and held great fame in the soul master world.
Hearing Dawn Douluo's mockery, Tai Tan didn't get angry but laughed proudly: "Being my master's dog is the greatest honor. I wouldn't trade it for being the Spirit Hall Pope."
"Insolent!"
"Seeking death!"
"Tai Tan, you've got some nerve!"
...
At Tai Tan's words, several angel soul masters behind Dawn Douluo erupted in rage, terrifying golden soul power bursting forth, tinging the air with cold killing intent.
Dawn Douluo's fingers clenched, knuckles whitening from force. His once indifferent eyes now filled with icy murder, the space around his golden armor distorting.
Yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black, black.
Nine soul rings emerged as he stared at Tai Tan on the wall, his voice like eternal ice: "Do you know that just for those words, the entire Clear Sky Sect could be buried with you?"
Tai Tan showed no fear, puffing out his chest, his aged face full of defiance: "Is that so? Like the one who died in the Pope's Palace a few days ago?"
With that, his soul power fully unleashed: yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black—eight soul rings rising at his feet, confronting the golden soul power opposite. The battlefield atmosphere instantly turned tense.
Dawn Douluo's light surged, sharp sword qi ravaging around him. At the same time, a pair of pure white wings unfolded behind him, flowing with sacred glow—a majestic light shadow emerging: his martial soul, the Holy Angel.
At that moment, a soul light quickly arrived beside Tai Tan from the city—it was a member of the Speed Clan. He approached Tai Tan and said:
"Patriarch Tai Tan, the sect master requests your presence."
Hearing this, Tai Tan's momentum stalled. He coldly glanced at Dawn Douluo and sneered:
"You're lucky."
Then he eagerly sped toward the city interior.
Watching Tai Tan leave, Dawn Douluo's eyes returned to calm indifference. In his view, Tai Tan—and the entire Clear Sky Sect—were just clowns in their death throes, no different from the degenerates he'd eradicated.
Once the Grand Worship gave the order, the Angel Legion would pierce the Clear Sky Sect's heart like a dagger, utterly ending these usurpers who tarnished the angels' glory.
…
In the city hall.
Clear Sky Sect Master Tang Xing sat in the main seat, his usual authority and presence gone, replaced by an unshakable gloom. He seemed to have aged decades overnight.
A few days ago, the Speed Clan scouts brought thrilling news: his second son, Tang Hao, had broken through to Titled Douluo and, upon entry, defeated three Spirit Hall Titled Douluos one against three, even severely injuring Pope Qian Xunji.
He'd been ecstatic—this meant the Clear Sky Sect would rise again, with Tang Hao taking his place and leading it back to its former heights.
As for injuring Qian Xunji, he ignored it—after all, it was just an injury, not death. The Spirit Hall wouldn't trouble the Clear Sky Sect over that.
A tiger's prestige lingers even in death, let alone his father who was merely missing. Without confirming Tang Chen's death, the Spirit Hall wouldn't act rashly.
But before he could celebrate long, another message from Spirit City hit like a thunderbolt, freezing him in place.
Pope Qian Xunji had succumbed to his injuries and died.
For Tang Xing, injuring or even crippling Qian Xunji was fine. He knew Qian Daoliu as a true gentleman, who could be deceived with propriety.
His son had been beaten badly in a many-against-one, so Qian Daoliu would only reprimand Qian Xunji, not trouble the Clear Sky Sect.
But now, Qian Xunji was dead—fatally wounded by Tang Hao. His only son gone, Tang Xing knew Qian Daoliu would go mad, and the current Clear Sky Sect couldn't withstand the Spirit Hall's wrath.
What about the tiger's lingering prestige? Sorry, for this, even calling Tang Chen back wouldn't help.
"Damn wretch, causing such a catastrophe for a beast. It infuriates me."
Thinking this, Tang Xing clenched his fists, cursing inwardly.
At that moment, a disciple entered respectfully:
"Reporting to Sect Master, the elders and four clan patriarchs have arrived."