Make Way, and I'll Let Bygones Be Bygones; Block Me, and Pay the Price!

The man before them was Ye Xian, the Saint Son long believed to have vanished without a trace!

But this aura... this bone-chilling cold that made even his soul tremble...

How was that possible?

Twelve years ago, Ye Xian had merely been a Soul Ancestor who had just broken through level forty Soul Power.

Yet the man before him exerted even greater pressure than Elders Yue Guan and Gui Mei.

Those two were level ninety-five Super Douluo.

Just as the Red-Robed Bishop's mind reeled and his Soul Power faltered for an instant, Ye Xian moved.

"Say goodnight to this world, Bishop Luosel!"

He casually raised his right hand and lightly pointed his index finger toward the Red-Robed Bishop.

"Bzzzt—!"

A strand of Ultimate Ice condensed into an Ice-blue beam, nearly invisible to the naked eye. As though crossing space itself, it shot before the Red-Robed Bishop in an instant.

"Not good!"

The Red-Robed Bishop was, after all, a Spirit Saint. At the brink of life and death, he unleashed all his potential. The light of his seventh Spirit Ring—Martial Soul Avatar—flared brilliantly.

His martial soul was the Fire Lion. At that moment, raging flames enveloped his entire body as he attempted to use searing heat against the extreme cold.

At the same time, he crossed his arms before himself, and a massive shield in the shape of a flaming lion's head condensed from Soul Power in an instant.

Yet before Ultimate Ice, the flames and Soul Power defense he had always taken pride in were as fragile as paper.

"Sizzle—!"

The Ice-blue beam effortlessly pierced through the flaming lion-head shield, instantly covering it in spiderweb-like cracks.

Then, with a bang, it exploded into countless tiny fragments of Ice Crystal.

The beam did not slow in the slightest, precisely striking the Red-Robed Bishop's crossed arms.

"Argh—!"

The Red-Robed Bishop let out a brief, shrill scream.

The Spirit Saint's protective Soul Power he had been so proud of melted away like ice and snow the instant it touched the beam.

Piercing cold instantly invaded his arms and spread at a terrifying speed.

He watched helplessly as his flame-covered arms froze from the point of contact.

Skin, muscle, and bone all froze within a thousandth of a second, turning a bizarre translucent ice-blue.

And the deadly ice crystals continued to frantically devour their way toward his torso!

He wanted to flee, wanted to circulate his Soul Power to resist, but the cold had already frozen the flow of his Soul Power and numbed his nerves.

His eyes froze in utter terror and disbelief, and his body became completely rigid.

He became a lifelike ice sculpture.

Within the sculpture, the faint glow of his Soul Power flames could seemingly still be seen making one final struggle.

But in the blink of an eye, it was completely swallowed by a deeper ice-blue.

The entire process was so fast that the surrounding guards did not even have time to cry out.

Only when the Red-Robed Bishop became an ice sculpture did Ye Xian's icy voice fall like a judgment:

"Twelve years ago, you threw me into an ice cave. Today, I'll let you experience what it feels like to have your heart devoured by ten thousand layers of ice!"

Ye Xian withdrew his finger, as though he had merely brushed away a speck of dust.

His gaze passed over the newly added "artwork" before him and fell once more upon the brilliantly lit Papal Palace, the symbol of Spirit Hall's highest authority.

His gaze was as sharp as the Frost King Sword still sheathed at his side.

"Bibi Dong... I'm back."

As his words fell, Ye Xian stepped forward once more.

The path of extreme cold, formed from ice patterns, ice lotuses, and ice sculptures, continued to stretch ahead, its destination pointing directly toward the Papal Palace.

The crystalline path reflected a ghostly chill beneath the moonlight, like an icy staircase leading to the pinnacle of power.

And Ye Xian was its sole ascendant.

The temperature in Spirit City's central district plummeted to freezing with his arrival.

With every step he took, the cold grew stronger.

The towering outline of the Papal Palace was already close at hand. Its golden roof, caught between moonlight and icy cold, had lost its former splendor and instead exuded a grim chill.

"Bold madman! How dare you cause trouble in Spirit Hall!"

A shrill shout containing terrifying Soul Power fluctuations suddenly tore through the deathly silent night sky.

A figure shot out from the side of the Papal Palace like a ghost, landing directly in Ye Xian's path in an instant and blocking his way.

The newcomer was tall and slender, dressed in brilliant golden armor. His skin was so pale it seemed almost unnatural, and his features were delicate and handsome, though his eyes were sharp as an eagle's.

Nine Spirit Rings floated around him: yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black, black!

The powerful pressure of a Titled Douluo surged forth like a tangible tidal wave, trying to crush the crystalline path and disperse the bone-deep cold.

He was none other than a Spirit Hall elder, the level ninety-five Titled Douluo—Chrysanthemum Douluo Yue Guan!

Behind him, an even more illusory figure, seemingly merged into the shadows, silently appeared.

It was his partner, Ghost Douluo Gui Mei, likewise an elder of Spirit Hall.

Gui Mei's expression was incomparably grave as he fixed his gaze on Ye Xian. The unfathomable icy aura around the other man made even this Titled Douluo, who excelled at concealment and soul attacks, feel a chill in his heart.

Yue Guan looked at the shocking crystalline path behind Ye Xian and the ice sculptures in all manner of poses upon it. When he saw the Red-Robed Bishop Luosel's ice sculpture, frozen with terror, his pupils suddenly contracted.

He recognized Ye Xian. Though that face had weathered much hardship, it still faintly retained the contours of the Saint Son from years ago.

"Ye Xian? It's actually you?!"

Yue Guan's voice was shrill with disbelief.

"Didn't you die in the Extreme North twelve years ago?"

Ye Xian finally stopped, only thirty meters away from Yue Guan.

He slowly raised his head. The shadows beneath his hood completely receded, revealing his resolute, cold face.

His ice-blue eyes, like Ten Thousand Year Profound Ice, stared emotionlessly at Yue Guan.

"Elder Yue Guan, it has been a long time."

Ye Xian's voice was terrifyingly calm, as though he were stating an irrelevant fact. The corners of his mouth curved into a faint smile.

"You were not the mastermind behind what happened back then, so I will not make things difficult for you."

"If you step aside, I'll let bygones be bygones."

"But if you block me today, prepare to pay the price."

"Arrogant!"

Yue Guan was thoroughly enraged by Ye Xian's dismissive attitude.

He had been nothing more than a minor Soul Ancestor twelve years ago. Even if he had encountered some lucky opportunity, how strong could he possibly have become?

Yue Guan was a level ninety-five Super Douluo!

"I'd like to see what fortune you stumbled upon that makes you dare spout such nonsense here!"

"You barged into Spirit City and slaughtered bishops and guards of Spirit Hall! Do you truly think Spirit Hall has no one left?"

Before his words had even faded, Yue Guan's Ninth Spirit Ring abruptly lit up—its deep black radiance instantly swallowed the surrounding light as terrifying pressure erupted!

"Ninth Spirit Ability—Chrysanthemum Withers, the Ground Is Covered in Wounds; When Flowers Fall, Hearts Break!"

In an instant, countless golden chrysanthemum petals flashing with metallic cold light appeared out of thin air.

Every petal contained sharp Soul Power capable of tearing through space, forming a golden torrent of storm-like fury.

Accompanied by piercing shrieks through the air, they swept toward Ye Xian from every direction, seeking to shred him apart!

Wherever the petals passed, even space groaned beneath the unbearable strain. The cold trying to freeze them was forcibly torn apart by their violent Soul Power.