Yu Xiaogang was dead—dead with confusion and resentnt still etched on his face. He had calculated everything, summoned hidden clans, even invited an Abyssal Lord to possess him. By his reckoning, victory was assured.
What he failed to account for was Li Chang’an’s true strength.
Because of his betrayal, not a single tear was shed for him. Inwardly, Bibi Dong cursed him to the bitter end.
Disgraced. Ruined.
[Ding. Quest complete: Bring Ruin to Yu Xiaogang.
Reward: one million-year soul ring]
[The million-year soul ring has been placed in the host’s storage space. This is a universal ring compatible with any martial soul]
Li Chang’an did not retract his rings. He simply stood there, the seven blood-crimson halos blazing behind him, and looked straight at the nine hidden experts. His aning was unmistakable: either end it here, or fight.
An elderly Rank 96 Titled Douluo stepped forward. "Young friend, we had no intention of attacking. But union with a spirit beast... that is a grave taboo."
"If you want her," Li Chang’an said, the edge of the Pangu Axe still wet with blood, "you’ll have to beat first."
The elder hesitated. Could he kill Li Chang’an? Of course not. Leaving aside that Li Chang’an—a Spirit Saint—now fought at a level not inferior to a Titled Douluo thanks to his rings and arsenal, there was also the quiet weight of the Pope’s gaze behind him. One wrong move and she would strike without hesitation.
This Pope was no simple figure.
If Spirit Hall truly cast aside decorum, what could a handful of recluses do? The Hall had dominated the continent for millennia for a reason—and with the Elder Hall already taking the field, who would be foolish enough to gamble their life here?
"Why don’t we decide it with a single exchange?" Li Chang’an said evenly. "If I lose, we do as you intend. If I win, you drop this matter here and now."
The subtext was clear to all: they wished to seize Xiao Wu; he wished to protect her. One exchange would settle it.
"So be it," the elder replied after a glance toward the distant sky, where two Rank 98 titans still clashed. He would decide this himself. "If you can force back half a step with one strike, I concede."
He did not consider it impossible—yet neither did he believe the youth could make him look foolish. A spirit Saint was still a Spirit Saint; the gap to a Titled Douluo was a qualitative one.
"Please," Li Chang’an said. He nodded to Xiao Wu, then t the Pope’s eyes once, and rose into the air. The elder followed.
Nine rings rose around the elder—two yellow, two purple, five black—as scales rippled down his arms and legs, hard as iron. A dragon-type martial soul, sturdy and proud.
Li Chang’an’s expression grew solemn. One strike—he knew the gulf between them, but gaps could be bridged with the right ans. He had fought Titled Douluo before.
He gripped the axe with both hands and breathed in. Killing intent gathered along the blade; then blue ice, scarlet fla, violet lightning layered over it in turn.
Slaughter Qi. Ultimate Ice. Ultimate Fla. Ultimate Thunder.
Four forces, interwoven.
All across the square, breathing quickened. This single exchange would decide more than victory or defeat—it would determine whether the hidden families erged in triumph or retreated in humiliation.
Could a spirit Saint force back a Rank 96 Titled Douluo?
Bibi Dong and the other Titled Douluo joined forces to raise a vast soul power barrier, shielding lower-ranked spirit masters and civilians. This was not a blow ordinary people could bear.
On the ground, the girls clasped hands—Xiao Wu, Hu Liena, Zhu Zhuqing, ng Yiran, Mu Xi, Ning Rongrong, Ye Lingling, Miao Ling—eyes fixed on the lone figure in the sky. In that mont, they rejoiced that their man was Li Chang’an—reckless in the face of the world’s scorn, yet a fortress one could trust with closed eyes.
A clear tone rang along the axe’s spine.
Li Chang’an moved.
A vertical arc of axe-light, twenty ters long, ripped forward. Its colors braided together—blood red, fla red, violet, and azure—like a celestial script. Even through the barrier, the aura of thunder, ice, fire, and slaughter pressed upon the senses. Yu Tianheng, Shui Bing’er, Huo Wu—attribute specialists all—could only bow to such pure, overwhelming power.
"Cut."
The elder vanished within the cascade. Scales sizzled and sloughed off in sheets, dissolving before the naked eye.
When at last the light receded, he was no longer there.
"Look—above the Pope’s Hall! A hole—a human-shaped hole!"
A cough echoed from high above. "Ahem... the young surpass the old; I concede. Let us end it here. We shall return to seclusion."
Even as he spoke, the elder burned soul power to purge the lingering afflictions. Numb one mont, chilled the next, then feverish, then dizzy—the fourfold attributes gnawed at him in waves.
He had underestimated the youth. Who could have predicted a single strike would carry four simultaneous extres? Unheard of. And that martial soul... in the face of this Pangu Axe, the vaunted Haotian Hamr seed laughable. If this wasn’t a god-tier soul, what was?
To be fair, he had been arrogant. Had he activated his soul skills first, Li Chang’an could not have blasted him from the sky. But forcing him back a few steps? That would have been inevitable.
Li Chang’an flew up to him, expression composed. "Senior, you heard it as well. The so-called Abyssal Lord claid the Abyss is about to invade. Your hidden clans must also shoulder this duty."
With power like this available, he would be a fool not to enlist it. No one knew when the Abyss would descend or how strong it would be; the risks would be borne by all.
The elder recalled Yu Xiaogang’s twisted transformation and nodded. "If the Abyss truly invades, I will lead my clan to fight."
"Thank you for your righteousness, Senior." Li Chang’an bowed with a faint smile. The matter, for now, was settled.
At that mont, the duel between the two Rank 98 titans also ended. Both Golden Crocodile Douluo and his opponent were disheveled but otherwise unhard. At such a level, unless one fought to the death, a decisive victory rarely ca quickly.
After hearing the report and eting Golden Crocodile’s unblinking stare, the visiting Titled Douluo snorted, clasped his hands stiffly, and left with his followers—tails between their legs.
And with that, the Xiao Wu incident ca to a close.
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