Clash

Su Cheng was not deliberately provoking or angering Bibi Dong.

There had never been any room for compromise in this matter. The mission was bound to be abandoned, and Bibi Dong was certain not to agree, so conflict was inevitable.

Qian Renxue had already made her decision. As the one who started all this, he had even less reason to back down.

As for playing both sides and hedging his bets, he had never even considered it.

Those who treated others as fools were the real fools.

The people of Spirit Hall might have flaws in their personalities and poor judgment of character, but they were not stupid.

He had finally nearly maxed out Qian Renxue's favor, with Qian Daoliu thrown in as a bonus. He would have to be out of his mind to kiss Bibi Dong's ass.

That Level 99 High Priest might even be watching from somewhere at this very moment.

Besides, given that woman's personality, groveling might very well have the opposite effect.

However, while he remained calm and composed, Bibi Dong, standing opposite him, was clearly furious.

Her grip on the scepter in her right hand tightened further, her knuckles turning faintly white.

"Very well. Then let's give it a try."

Bibi Dong snorted coldly. A faint purple light flickered in her eyes as the pressure of a top-tier powerhouse crashed down upon him, relentless and unceasing.

At that moment, even the air in the hall seemed to become a weapon in Bibi Dong's hands, solidifying around Su Cheng.

Under the crushing force, his face first turned pale before flushing red.

Yet what was terrifying was that, aside from him, the vast and empty Council Hall remained completely undamaged. Even the tea in the cups was perfectly still.

It fully demonstrated what true top-tier control over power meant.

Before he could adapt to the oppressive sensation, the pressure receded like a tide in an instant.

In that sudden release, Su Cheng felt his brain briefly deprived of oxygen.

When he regained clarity, everything around him had changed.

There was no Pope's Palace, nor was Bibi Dong before him.

Only he remained, standing alone on a mountain path.

Su Cheng immediately understood that he had fallen into Bibi Dong's illusion, and he inwardly scoffed.

"Then come on!"

Within the Worship Hall, Qian Daoliu stood side by side with Golden Crocodile Douluo.

However, unlike last time, there was now a breathtaking blonde girl beside Qian Daoliu—Qian Renxue.

A screen of light had unfolded before the three of them, displaying the scene within the Council Hall of the Pope's Palace.

Su Cheng had still underestimated the Angel Douluo, invincible in the skies. Not only could he observe in secret, he could even broadcast the scene live.

Of course, that was only so long as Bibi Dong did not actively block him.

Clearly, the group shared some sort of tacit understanding.

"Grandfather, how is Teacher doing right now?"

"You'll see for yourself."

As Qian Daoliu's words fell, another screen of light appeared, showing Su Cheng's current predicament.

After the scenery before his eyes shifted, Su Cheng abruptly felt as though his body had become several times heavier. His Soul Power was also firmly suppressed, leaving him no different from an Ordinary Person.

No, under Bibi Dong's pressure, he was even worse off than an Ordinary Person.

The strength of this heir to the Rakshasa God was evident.

But Su Cheng did not take it seriously.

He had spent over twenty years as an Ordinary Person in his previous life, then nearly another twenty as worthless trash in this one. He was far too accustomed to this feeling.

Looking at the mountain path ahead, Su Cheng cautiously shifted his body slightly.

The moment he took a step forward, the illusion changed at once.

The originally ordinary mountain path instantly became an extremely narrow trail, with bottomless cliffs stretching ten thousand zhang down on either side.

One could imagine that if he accidentally fell, even if he did not truly die from the fall, he would probably be left sprawled on the ground and trembling after escaping this illusion.

Bibi Dong truly had no intention of killing him, but she clearly intended to humiliate and suppress him properly.

This illusion was a minor technique she had comprehended from the Rakshasa God Test. It naturally amounted to little against the strong, but for a soul master like Su Cheng, whose cultivation was insufficient and whose Spiritual Power was lacking, the scene was absolutely indistinguishable from reality.

If an Ordinary Person stood here, even knowing it was an illusion, they could not possibly feel no fear at all.

The slightest disturbance of the mind would make their footing unsteady, and one careless moment would send them stepping into empty air.

Yet Su Cheng merely looked around, examining the surroundings as though he did not care about his current situation in the slightest.

Bibi Dong's expression darkened slightly at the sight.

Within the illusion, a fierce wind suddenly rose, whipping against Su Cheng's clothes.

"Grandfather, aren't you going to intervene yet?"

Qian Renxue, watching from the Worship Hall, looked somewhat nervous.

Even she, merely a spectator, felt her legs weaken at the sight of this scene, let alone Su Cheng, who was actually in it.

But Qian Daoliu shook his head in refusal.

"If I intervened now, I would break the tacit understanding between your mother and me. The loss would outweigh the gain. Besides, don't underestimate your teacher. Just watch—"

Before he could finish, he suddenly stopped, his tone turning uncertain with surprise. "What is that brat doing?!"

Within the illusion, high above the ten-thousand-zhang abyss, mountain winds swept past, lifting Su Cheng's robes as his black hair streamed in the wind.

"It really is realistic," Su Cheng murmured in admiration.

His gaze was steady. Looking at the narrow path along the cliff where he stood, he suddenly stepped forward.

Bibi Dong's expression changed as she watched Su Cheng not only show no fear, but actually dare to advance. "Let's see how much longer you can hold on!"

Thus, the path before him gradually narrowed, while the mountain winds grew ever stronger. The howling wind nearly shattered his eardrums.

Sweat rolled down his cheeks in droplets. That was the pressure of a Titled Douluo.

Su Cheng chuckled, unconcerned, and continued onward.

Later on, it was as though he were walking atop a narrow wall ten thousand zhang high. Apart from the furious roar of the wind, he could hear nothing else. Meanwhile, the abyss beneath his feet grew ever clearer.

The pressure became greater and greater, the path narrower and narrower, and the gale fiercer and fiercer...

Yet he walked faster and faster!

Finally—

"Ha... hahaha... Scaring me is useless. Show me something real, Your Majesty the Pope."

Su Cheng grinned at Bibi Dong, who now stood right before him.

He looked exceptionally disheveled.

He panted heavily, his face deathly pale, sweat pouring down like rain.

He was not frightened. He was exhausted.

Although the illusion had shifted endlessly just now, it had failed to shake his will in the slightest.

The monotonous sword swings without fail, rain or shine, and the day-after-day, year-after-year study and research had long forged his will into something as solid as stone.

But the pressure was real, and the gap in cultivation was right there.

As he walked forward, it had felt as though he were moving through unset cement. Had he not spent these years tempering his body with medicinal baths and Silver Needles, he might truly have been unable to reach this point.

Bibi Dong no longer retained her earlier composure.

In this invisible clash, she had already lost.

She was forced to take the initiative and undo the illusion she had created.

Because if she did not, Su Cheng was about to walk straight into her face.