Wuhun City, the Pope's Palace.
Beneath its towering dome, walls inlaid with countless gemstones reflected the light of soul-guiding lamps, radiating a magnificent yet cold brilliance.
Bibi Dong sat on the Pope's throne, the symbol of absolute authority in the Spirit Hall. Her gorgeous papal robes flowed to the ground, and her slender yet regal fingers were lightly twisting a secret letter from Heaven Dou City.
This letter was an urgent confidential report from Bishop Salas. It detailed the recent unrest in Heaven Dou City—especially the conflict between the Fourth Prince Xue Beng and a youth named Chen Yi. But the section that drew the most attention described a mysterious expert: someone who, with just a single glance, had suppressed Bone Douluo Gu Rong of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan.
A faint hint of amusement flashed through Bibi Dong's deep violet eyes.
Her beautiful features betrayed little emotion, but the way her fingertips tapped lightly on a certain paragraph betrayed her inner agitation.
"Just a single look at Gu Rong…"
She murmured. Her voice echoed softly through the vast and solemn hall.
"Bone Douluo may not be the strongest in the world, but his life-preserving abilities are first-rate. Ninety-fifth-rank cultivation is by no means for show, yet this expert could suppress his spiritual power with just a glance. It seems this person's spiritual attainment has reached the realm of 'Ultimate.'"
Bibi Dong closed her eyes slightly, inwardly comparing that level of spiritual cultivation to her own. The conclusion made her heart, usually as placid as a still lake, ripple faintly.
As far as absolute spiritual strength and fine control went, she had to admit—
she might be a little inferior.
Such a person was by no means an ordinary peak Douluo. Their very existence was a major variable.
"The waters of the Douluo Continent are getting murkier."
Bibi Dong opened her eyes, a fleeting cold light flashing through them.
With a light wave of her hand, she dismissed the soul master who had delivered the letter. He bowed respectfully and quietly withdrew. The heavy palace doors closed again, shutting out the outside world.
Silence returned to the hall.
Bibi Dong's gaze dropped back to the letter in her hand, her thoughts now circling around another name—Chen Yi.
"About ten years old, yet already a Soul Elder, wielding a strange and powerful spiritual shock, able to inflict serious damage on Xue Beng…"
The overlapping keywords made Bibi Dong's brows furrow slightly.
During this period, she had secretly been searching for geniuses who met the conditions for divine inheritance, aiming to find a candidate for the Rakshasa God's trial and the future inheritor of a god's throne.
A ten-year-old Soul Elder with such monstrous talent would already qualify as one of the candidates first considered by the gods.
A vague thought surfaced in her mind.
"Could it be him… the descendant of that person from years ago…"
She murmured softly, her voice laced with an emotion complicated beyond words—expectation, and also a faint indifference.
Her whisper echoed quietly within the resplendent Pope's Palace, as if she were asking destiny itself in the darkness.
…
At the same time, deep within the Spirit Hall lay the Elder Hall, a place that symbolized the glory of the Angel.
The atmosphere here was completely different from the ornate luxury of the Pope's Palace—far more solemn, austere, and suffused with sacred majesty.
In the center of the hall stood an immense Seraphim statue, bathed in soft golden light. It exuded a warmth that felt as if it could purify all filth in the world.
One of the five Worship Elders, Guang Ling Douluo, still looked like a youth in his teens, yet his expression at this moment was rarely serious.
He led a middle-aged man into the sacred hall. The man had average height, a slightly sallow complexion, but sharp eyes.
Their footsteps were light as they moved toward the base of the Seraphim statue.
Qian Daoliu still knelt beneath the statue with eyes closed. His long golden hair fell over his shoulders, his expression calm, merging seamlessly with the aura of the Elder Hall—as if he were communicating with a god.
"Big Brother."
Guang Ling Douluo called out softly, his voice especially clear in the quiet of the vast hall.
Qian Daoliu did not immediately respond. He remained still as a sculpture.
Guang Ling Douluo blinked, stepped closer, and lowered his voice slightly.
"This is news from Xiao Xue."
Before his words had fully fallen, Qian Daoliu's eyes suddenly opened.
What deep eyes they were—like a boundless starry sky and long-flowing years gathered within. They held gentle wisdom that saw through all things, and also the absolute majesty of a Rank-99 Peerless Douluo.
Qian Daoliu's gaze first swept over Guang Ling Douluo with a hint of inquiry, then shifted to the middle-aged man.
The latter bowed respectfully.
"Great Worship, I bring a confidential letter from the Young Miss."
Qian Daoliu's voice was calm, but carried a reassuring strength.
"Ci Xue, what's wrong?"
Ci Xue (Porcupinefish Douluo) immediately stepped forward, taking out a tightly sealed letter from his sleeve. He offered it with both hands, speaking respectfully.
"Great Worship, this is a secret letter written personally by the Young Miss."
Qian Daoliu nodded faintly. Without visible movement, the letter floated from Ci Xue's hands, borne by an invisible force, landing lightly in his palm.
He deftly broke the fire-lacquer seal and drew out the letter, scanning its contents quickly.
At first, his expression remained mild. But as he read on, subtle changes appeared on his aged face.
His brows twitched almost imperceptibly, and a flash of surprise crossed his eyes—brief, but enough for someone who knew him as well as Guang Ling Douluo to notice.
"Oh?"
After a while, Qian Daoliu let out a soft, meaningful sigh. He handed the letter to Guang Ling Douluo, who had already grown curious.
Guang Ling Douluo took it and skimmed through rapidly. The further down he read, the more the faintly mocking expression he usually wore receded, replaced by strong shock and grave seriousness.
"Hiss… suppressing Gu Rong with just a look? His spiritual power might have reached the realm of a Peerless Douluo?"
"Big Brother, this…"
He lifted his head to look at Qian Daoliu, eyes filled with disbelief.
"When did such a person appear on the continent? And how do we have no record of him within the Spirit Hall?"
Qian Daoliu slowly rose, hands clasped behind his back as he looked up at the towering Seraphim statue. Light flowed through his golden eyes as though he were calculating something.
His voice was unhurried, with a far-off tone.
"Spiritual power reaching the level of a Peerless Douluo… interesting."
"A figure like that would not be some obscure hermit who broke through by chance. His origins are likely anything but simple."
He paused, then turned slightly toward Ci Xue, his tone returning to its usual calm.
"How is Xiao Xue in Heaven Dou City?"
Ci Xue hurriedly bowed his head.
"Reporting to the Great Worship, the Young Miss is safe. However, this matter is extremely complex. She felt she had to report to you as soon as possible."
Qian Daoliu nodded with satisfaction.
"She did the right thing."
"As for this mysterious expert, I already know. We'll keep a close eye on him. Go back and tell Xiao Xue—her safety comes first. Observe quietly. Do not act rashly."
"Yes, this subordinate understands!"
Ci Xue bowed deeply again, then quietly withdrew from the Elder Hall.
After he left, Guang Ling Douluo couldn't help taking two quick steps forward, speaking in an intrigued tone.
"Big Brother, what do you plan to do? Are you going to Heaven Dou City to meet this 'mysterious expert' in person?"
Qian Daoliu shook his head slightly, still gazing up at the Seraphim statue, as if communing with the entities in the darkness above.
He was silent for a long moment, then slowly uttered.
"Wait and see."
Guang Ling Douluo blinked, momentarily stunned. Soon, the anticipation in his eyes faded, replaced by understanding. He nodded gently.
He knew what Qian Daoliu meant.
When facing someone suspected of having reached the realm of a Peerless Douluo—someone whose appearance might influence the entire continent's balance—
before that person's intentions were clear, the Spirit Hall, especially the Elder Hall, was not suited to taking the initiative. A misstep could lead to incalculable consequences.
"It seems the winds on this continent are about to grow stronger."
Guang Ling Douluo looked through the hall's open doors at the darkening sky outside and sighed softly.
Qian Daoliu did not respond. He once again knelt before the statue and closed his eyes, as if resuming his communion with the Angel God.
Only the faint rise and fall of his chest betrayed that his heart was not as calm as it appeared.