Xiao Wu darted like a phantom through the underbrush, her small body weaving between trunks and bush. She no longer cared about the risk of being seen by Spirit Hall's scouts.
The mark of Acacia Heartbroken Red upon her heart pulsed, concealing her essence when needed—but now she did the opposite, deliberately releasing the aura of a one-hundred-thousand-year beast. The pressure parted the forest like an invisible tide. Predators shrank back, serpents slithered into holes, even tigers bared fangs then fled. For her, the canopy opened into a safe, straight corridor.
I must reach Er Ming… I must!
But when she finally leapt into view of Star Lake—her heart nearly broke.
They were already here.
"Junior, hide."
Tang San's voice rasped from the brush, urgency trembling in it.
Below, Er Ming had already been surrounded. The colossal Titan Ape roared, smashing ranks of Spirit Hall soldiers aside like children, but elders in papal gold closed in from every angle. Bibi Dong's scepter gleamed.
"What…?" Tang San's eyes widened sharply.
The ape's skin had been torn during earlier battles, yet now not even a scar remained. Its power thundered without pain, as if healed completely.
"How? My spear… should have crippled it with venom."
Bibi Dong narrowed her eyes, unease flickering across her heart. Her own Bloodsucking Spider Spear was notorious—its poison corroded nerves, blackened blood, drained flesh to weakness. Not even hundred-thousand-year beasts had shrugged it off quickly. Yet Er Ming rampaged with full stamina.
Was it healed?
Her jaw tightened. There must be hidden hermits in Star Dou. This confirms it.
"Severely wound it. We need it alive."
Her voice cracked like authority incarnate.
The clash raged. The roar of soul skills, the shriek of beasts, the pounding of giant fists. But Spirit Hall's details were vast. Dozens of Contras, multiple Title Douluo—united to grind the ape down.
Soon, Er Ming staggered, his colossal frame shuddering, and with a howl he collapsed onto the ground, soil trembling under his mass.
From hiding, Xiao Wu's hands clenched into fists. Er Ming…!
Where is Da Ming? Hurry!
And then the lake bulged.
An unfathomable body curved from the waters—a serpent thicker than towers, scales aglow with pale cyan light, eyes like orbs of ancient jade.
"The Azure Bull Python!"
A shiver coursed across Spirit Hall ranks. Even among beasts, this snake was a true hundred-thousand-year spirit in both power and cultivation.
"Two… Two beasts at once…"
Shock rippled through the ranks. Even Ghost Douluo's face tightened.
A low moan rippled from the waters. The serpent exhaled, a single moo-like note of sound, heavy enough to quake souls. It was not merely muscle—it was deterrence. Star Dou has kings. And kings do not bow.
Even Bibi Dong assessed quickly, her eyes flashing. Level 96, perhaps 97—real cultivation, beyond Er Ming who thrives mostly on bloodline.
"Yueguan. Ghost. Begin."
At her command, the two Title Douluo nodded once, their bodies already gleaming.
"Martial Soul Fusion Technique—Bipolar Static Field!"
Gold and black merged, chrysanthemum petals scattering as ghostly shadows rippled, blending light and dark into one oppressive wave. The field expanded slowly but deliberately from them, wrapping the lake's edge in a suffocating shroud.
The Azure Bull Python lashed its massive tail, water exploding upward like mountains of spray.
The tail struck like a fortress collapsing—yet slowed mid-swing, dragged heavy by the static field.
Even Er Ming attempted to rise, but his fist struck half-strength, staggered like a drunk. The field was frightening—not destruction, but annulment.
"Tch."
Bibi Dong herself strode forward, black-purple aura igniting. Her dark silks snapped against her legs as power surged.
The Papal Majesty she wore fell away, replaced by something darker. The Death Spider King burst behind her, its massive legs pressing chitin into the earth. Her thighs coiled with power—curves tight enough to crush steel.
"Capture them alive. They will speak of the scale-armored woman."
"Hsss…"
The Python shuddered, coils bound under webs of oppressive pressure. Er Ming roared, struggling, but was hammered lower.
"For the Lord's sake—let them go!"
A voice cracked the still waters.
Figures shimmered in the ripples.
A shadow rose higher and higher, until its wings eclipsed the moon—so immense, the lake itself flattened beneath its unfurling.
Di Tian.
The Beast God. The Faith of Star Dou. The ultimate black dragon.
His emergence shook the forest's axis. Power rolled in waves. Even without hostility, dark-gold light spilled like crimson lightning into the heavens.
Spirit Hall's experts froze. Even Bibi Dong felt her skin prickle and her chest tighten.
Tch. Him.
Di Tian's steps pressed the water flat—each one a tremor of doom. His golden eyes pierced her, each word trembling the marrow of every soldier.
"Human, release them. See who you seize—not Titan, not Python—they are my brothers."
"They are ours."
His aura bled suddenly heavier, his words bending into roared command:
"And you hold where my little brother sleeps."
The Pope's scepter trembled in her grip—the realization dawning.
The "little brother" he named. The precious King.
She flared, power and obsession entwined.
"No. Until Xiaobei is returned, none of Spirit Hall will leave empty-handed."
Dragon and Pope, eyes locked, doom pressing the forest.
The line between war and annihilation stretched thin.
--
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