The world trembled.
Ten million soul masters dead. The Sun Moon Empire's elite line shattered in one merciless strike. The once proud empire now reeled like a beheaded beast, lurching toward chaos. Entire provinces fell into silence, their skies tainted by the thick stench of burned spirit essence.
And yet, amidst the ashes, the Tang Clan stood silent.
Tang San remained within the ancestral chamber, his back to the world, his face etched with cold distance. He neither rejoiced nor lamented. His clan had simply eliminated a threat, and the cost—no matter how high in eyes of others—was irrelevant.
"The world will learn," Tang San muttered, "that balance does not come through words, but through force."
His aura, suppressed for decades, flickered in his chamber like divine flames. At the peak of Level 98, with his artificially developed godhood slowly condensing, he needed only one final catalyst. But he refused to settle for a normal godhood. Only the Supreme Godhood would satisfy him.
The Spirit Weapon Elder who had unleashed the annihilation returned to the clan's Sacred Ground, his body pale, veins blackened. Though victorious, the cost was immense. The weapon, which condensed the spirit energy of thirty rare cores, would take a decade to recharge—if ever.
Still, the message had been delivered.
No one could touch Tang Clan. Not even empires.
---
Elsewhere, Fear Takes Root
Within Spirit Hall, Qian Renxue sat silently atop the Holy Altar. The divine light behind her was dim. She stared into the horizon where the Sun Moon Empire had once stood proud.
"He... has gone too far," she said softly.
Bibi Dong narrowed her eyes. "Or perhaps, he's only begun."
They both understood what Tang San was becoming—not merely a sect leader or a talented cultivator, but a force of nature. A cold, calculating entity that only moved when necessity dictated… and when he moved, the world shattered.
A secret meeting was called. All four continental empires, Spirit Hall, Sea God Island, and remaining upper sects gathered in shadows.
"He must be contained," the Blue Lightning Tyrant sect's new patriarch said.
"Do you intend to fight a man who kills peak 98-level experts with weapons like toys?" one of the representatives snapped.
Tensions flared. But unity was impossible. Tang San had struck fear into all of them—so deep that cooperation became paranoia.
---
Within Tang Clan – Rebirth
Tang Clan entered a time of silence. Tang San vanished again, leaving only instructions. Over the next months:
The Spirit Weapon Division secretly refined two more weapons, not as powerful, but enough to kill 97-level Douluo.
The Core Elders began training personally-selected disciples in the art of war and formation.
The Clan's Outer Plains, now armed and restricted, became an experimental war ground for testing the new battle formations.
Tang Wei, the twin-souled captain, refined his 5-in-1 strike under Tang San's indirect guidance. Though he did not know the technique's true source, he sensed its divine nature.
Tang San's daughter, now a 96-level dual-attribute cultivator with peerless control, took over major clan administration. She was cold, just like her father, and her refusal to marry the Sun Moon prince was absolute.
Meanwhile, in the shadows of the northern ice plains, strange energies began to stir.
A First-Level God Realm Gate cracked slightly.
But it remained sealed—for now.
---
Tang San's Cultivation
In his hidden chamber deep under the Tang Mountain, Tang San meditated beside the core of the Ice-Fire Yin Yang Lake. The ancient herb he had refined a decade ago was no longer effective. But now, through his Ancient Talent Augmentation Technique, his cultivation increased steadily—albeit slowly.
Every year, his talent increased by 1%. At this stage, even that was an astronomical leap.
His spirit energy circulated at god-level density, far beyond any 98-level Douluo.
He reviewed his own godhood again—solidified, brilliant, yet flawed.
"Normal. Unworthy," he whispered. Then, he took out the original blueprint of the Spirit Rebirth Technique, now etched onto a black jade tablet. It remained unique, untradeable, and bound only to him.
No one else could practice it. Anyone who tried—even his own daughter—would suffer soul collapse.
He smirked coldly.
Even among his clan, no one knew its true effects.
---
Final Movements of the Chapter
The world quieted... but only briefly.
Whispers of Tang San's weapons, his daughter's strength, the terrifying annihilation of Sun Moon forces—all became folklore and fear.
A new generation of genius soul masters began to rise. The tournament still ongoing would now reach its final stage, with the Tang Clan's team marching into the last arena. The seven members stood tall, each representing a new era of power, forged under a shadow they barely understood.
And behind it all, Tang San watched.
Not as a man.
But as a storm waiting to be unleashed again.
---