Di Tian's voice fell over the lake, three parts casual, three parts cold with hate, and four parts soaked in a weary sadness.
There was no thunder in his tone, but the weight—it fell on every ear like the heavens themselves speaking. A sense of detachment wrapped around him, a sovereign who ruled not only beasts but despair itself.
Strong. Too strong.
That was Bibi Dong's first thought.
Then: collapse.
The carefully woven Bipolar Static Field of Ghost and Yueguan shattered like glass. At its center, dragon's might blew outward.
Boom!
The ghostly Douluo pair were hurled as though bullets, bodies slicing through the forest canopy. Ghost crashed sideways into a hillock, Yueguan's flamboyant robes shredded as he punched into the heart of a writhing ancient tree. The tree, feeling doom, tried to uproot itself and escape—but too slow. Yueguan slammed into it, snapping roots.
The poor locust tree shuddered, whining like a child, then tumbled over. Yueguan groaned from the pit, his hips in awkward display, white skin exposed from torn silks.
All around, Spirit Hall's experts flushed crimson.
Meanwhile, freed of the field, Er Ming and Da Ming jerked forward. Their strength, compressed, now burst awkwardly. The great Azure Bull Python's 100-meter body surged—straight into Er Ming's rump.
"HOOOOWWWL!!!"
The Titan Ape howled in agony, eyes wide, pounding fists against the earth.
"Brother—pull out, quickly! I can't endure this!"
The Python's eyes rolled. "Don't move, Er Ming. If you move, it goes deeper!"
The pain was unspeakable. Watching soul masters blanched, torn between gagging and coughing blood. Even Tang San, hidden in branches above, clenched his buttocks instinctively.
Is… is this… the Teacher's path of 'love'? If it hurts like that… maybe… oh no. NO! Unless Teacher asked… then… I— he blushed violently, face crimson with confusion.
Xiao Wu, lurking in another tree, bit her lip, face burning. Da Ming… what are you two DOING?! So shameless, so indecent… and… and somehow thrilling?!
Yet no laughter prevailed. Tremors hushed as Di Tian advanced, stepping from the water.
Behind him unfurled the shadow of a dragon so vast, a golden-eyed black form roared silently. Its pressure alone crushed the knees of lesser serpentine soul masters. Snake-lineage Douluo collapsed, lips pale, bloodlines screaming in subservience to dragon supremacy.
Bibi Dong's grip on her scepter slickened with sweat. A droplet rolled from her flawless cheek, caught in the violet glow of her martial soul.
Still, she advanced onto the lake, her papal robes swirling, spider-lines creeping across her jade-smooth skin. She would not—could not—retreat.
"Who are you?" Her voice was iron over trembling heart.
The dragon tilted his head, golden slits narrowing.
"Me?" His voice was quiet, but the water rippled for miles.
"I am the Beast God. Di Tian."
Boom.
The dragon phantom solidified at his back, towering dark gold, its roar shaking constellations. To the humans present, it felt as though a mountain of 800 meters had been suspended just above their skulls, ready to crush them flat.
Shock rippled. Elders fell to whispers.
"Dragon… Dragon," gasped several weaker Douluo.
From the rear, trembling Ye Fan of Nine Heart Begonia choked. "Emperor Tian… long ago, the dragon who challenged the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragons at dawn of history. The same Di Tian who destroyed clans and even toppled cities when his beloved was slaughtered by evil soul masters…!"
The camp quaked. It was legend—but here, before their eyes, legend walked.
Di Tian's molten gaze slid over them, dripping disdain. The memory of centuries pressed like grave earth against their souls.
"Ah… all past," he murmured, voice detached. "The Beast God forgets much. What remains is only… bitterness."
To the humans, his words sounded like scripture of doom. To him, they were truth.
He should have been slumbering deeper still. But when Brigitte left to follow the King into Heilongyuan, when whispers of Zi Ji's embrace reached him—sleep became futile. Even now, every time his eyes closed, he saw that boy's smile shining between Brigitte's tenderness and Zi Ji's teasing.
"Why…" he muttered, his chest tight, "…must even they belong to him?"
Gu Yuena. Brigitte. Zi Ji. All drawn to that boy.
His frustration, his loneliness bled outward. When Di Tian suffered, the Continent trembled.
And when he suffered tonight, he wanted to vent. On humans.
He flexed his talons, knuckles popping.
"Ignorant humans. Have you prayed? Then let me begin. Tonight, you are meat for the Beast God."
His eyes, golden and searing, pinned Bibi Dong.
"You… a beautiful woman. Tender skin, crisp soul. You'll be delicious to chew." His jaw widened, rows of teeth gnashing.
The Pope's pupils shrank, but she did not step back. Behind her, eight spider legs extended, dripping green venom, soul power boiling madly.
If he strikes, I can fight. At worst, withdraw with survivors. But I will not yield.
"…You dare?" Her voice cut the lake. "Say again, dragon, and I will break your horns myself."
The tension screamed, a second from detonation.
And then—
Step.
From the heavens, a figure descended. A boy, hair dark and glossy, face ethereal like jade, stepped upon the shadow of hell itself. Beside him, a woman cloaked in emerald light sharpened with every heartbeat.
Gasps swept Spirit Hall. Beasts bowed instinctively.
It was the figure they sought ceaselessly: Subei.
And at his back, Brigitte, face serene but aura resolute.
"Emperor Tian," the boy's clear voice rang calmly across trembling earth. "If you want to vent… you may. But not on them."
Dragon eyes widened.
The Beast God… blinked.
And for the first time tonight, battle paused.
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