Qian Xunji's final ultimatum, cold as iron and brimming with murderous intent, swept across the silent Clear Sky Sect plaza like the most bone-chilling gale of midwinter, cutting deep into the hearts of every surviving sect member.
"On this day next year, the entire Clear Sky Sect will be commemorated as the dead!"
Those words fell like a heavy iron hammer, smashing the last shred of hope in their hearts.
Despair, fear, resentment, grief...
All sorts of emotions mingled in the eyes of the surviving Clear Sky Sect disciples.
They looked at the bodies of their fellow sect members around them, their heavily wounded sect master kneeling on the ground, and the pope, Qian Xunji, hovering across from them like a god, radiating an irresistible pressure. Behind him stood the powerful members of Spirit Hall, watching them like tigers eyeing their prey, their killing intent surging.
A bone-deep chill shot from the soles of their feet to the crowns of their heads.
They had no doubt that Qian Xunji would do exactly as he said.
The Clear Sky Sect had lost Tang Chen, its Sea-Stabilizing Divine Needle. It was like a tiger stripped of its claws and fangs.
It still had a massive frame and the prestige of its former glory, but it no longer possessed the ultimate power to truly deter its foes.
Under pressure from the colossal Spirit Hall, they had no means to resist.
Spirit Hall truly had both the power and the nerve to erase the Clear Sky Sect from the map of the Douluo Continent!
"Sect Master! Think this through!"
"Sect Master, as long as the green hills remain, there'll be no shortage of firewood! Preserve the sect first!"
"This trouble was caused by those two. Their opponent... their opponent only wants one arm each. That's... that's already showing mercy!"
"That's right, Sect Master. With the sect's resources, a severed arm might be reattached, or some other solution might be found. But if the sect is gone... then everything is gone!"
Under the immense pressure of death and their desperate fear for the sect's survival, the few surviving elders finally couldn't hold back any longer.
One after another, they spoke up, their voices trembling with urgency as they tried to persuade Tang Zhen, whose face was pale and whose eyes were full of conflict.
On the surface, they seemed to be thinking of the sect, but in truth, they were pushing all the blame and pressure onto Tang Hao and Tang Xiao.
Their unspoken meaning couldn't have been clearer: since they couldn't beat outsiders, they could only sacrifice their own people to put an end to the trouble.
After all, the two of them had caused this mess, so naturally they should bear the harshest consequences.
And from the most practical, self-serving perspective, the elders' words...
weren't actually wrong.
If Tang Hao and Tang Xiao had stolen treasures from some second-rate or even lower-tier first-rate faction, the Clear Sky Sect wouldn't have blamed them. It would probably have praised their courage for bringing honor to the sect—and even mocked the other side for being too weak to deserve the treasure.
The law of the jungle was simply the accepted rule of the continent.
But they had gone and offended Sea God Island!
A mysterious, ancient power with a true god standing behind it, a transcendent force capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with Spirit Hall!
This wasn't the law of the jungle. They'd kicked an iron plate.
The elders' change of attitude was a textbook case of judging people by their strength.
If you were weaker, they mocked and bullied you.
If you were stronger, they blamed the ones who'd caused trouble.
In that moment, the hypocrisy and cold realism of these elders—who fancied themselves pillars of the sect—were on full display.
Sure enough, when Tang Hao and Tang Xiao heard the elders, who had once shown them respect and placed high hopes in them, urging their father to sacrifice the brothers to save the sect—and even hinting at blame in their words—their expressions turned ugly in an instant.
A furious blaze flared in Tang Hao's eyes.
His temperament had always been fierce. How could he endure accusations and demands for sacrifice that were tantamount to betrayal?
Give up an arm?
How could that be acceptable?
He was a once-in-a-century genius of the Clear Sky Sect, the successor recognized by his grandfather, Tang Chen, and entrusted with the essence of Ring Detonation. He was the sect's hope for the future!
Losing an arm would not only cripple his fighting strength and leave him physically maimed; it would also have immeasurable consequences for his future cultivation, perhaps even cutting off any chance of reaching a higher realm!
That would be worse than death!
Though Tang Xiao was more composed by nature, his eyes, too, were filled with resentment and humiliation.
He understood just as well what losing an arm meant to a Soul Master—especially to Clear Sky Hammer Soul Masters like them, renowned for their strength.
The brothers exchanged a look, then turned to their father, Tang Zhen, the current sect master of the Clear Sky Sect.
Their eyes held a tangle of emotions: a plea for help, a sense of grievance, and one final glimmer of hope.
Tang Zhen felt as if his heart were being twisted apart. His face was ashen.
Kneeling on the ground, he felt as though the Clear Sky Hammer in his hand weighed a thousand jun.
On one side stood the sect's legacy, passed down for ten thousand years, and the lives of more than a hundred disciples.
On the other were his two gifted sons, the children in whom he'd placed all his hopes.
Agree?
How could he personally cast his sons' futures into the abyss?
How could he bring himself to order them to maim themselves?
Refuse?
Was he really supposed to stand by and watch the Clear Sky Sect run red with blood today, its people and its legacy destroyed, reduced to a thing of the past?
It was an unbearably difficult, cruel choice.
"Sect Master Tang!"
At that moment, Qian Xunji spoke.
He looked down at Tang Zhen, whose expression kept shifting as he wavered, and at the Clear Sky Sect elders, who were already turning against one another. A trace of impatience and scorn flickered in his eyes.
"My patience is limited. I'll give you ten breaths to decide."
He paused. His tone seemed to soften slightly, but the threat in his words grew heavier:
"If it weren't for your sect's venerable elder Tang Chen, a great hero of his age who brought glory to the Soul Master World, do you think I would have given you a choice?"
Qian Xunji's words were half true and half false.
He did have his reservations.
It wasn't entirely because of Tang Chen's reputation; practical considerations weighed more heavily.
Although Sea God Island and Spirit Hall had temporarily joined forces over Ye Qing, their relationship was far from firmly established.
Their cooperation was based more on shared interests and a certain unspoken understanding.
If they really wiped out the Clear Sky Sect today, there would be no turning back.
What if...
Tang Chen was still alive and returned one day?
What kind of terror would be unleashed by a furious, unburdened, level-ninety-nine Peerless Douluo at the peak of the human realm, once he began seeking revenge?
Spirit Hall had vast resources and branches throughout the continent. It wasn't like Sea God Island, secluded in a corner and easy to defend.
When that happened, Spirit Hall would face Tang Chen's most savage retaliation, and the losses would be impossible to estimate.
More importantly, the Sea God and the Angel God were currently "competing for people," leaving relations between them in a delicate state.
If wiping out the Clear Sky Sect made Tang Chen a mortal enemy, and the Sea God then decided to spite the Angel God by leaving Bo Saixi and Ye Qing out of it instead of helping hold Tang Chen back, wouldn't Spirit Hall be the one left paying dearly?
They'd become a weapon in Sea God Island's hands, only to face the most terrifying retaliation on their own?