Refusing the Lure, Heading Straight for the Ice and Fire Yin-Yang Well

Three days later, Martial Soul City, Pope Palace.

Today, the Pope Palace was solemn and grave, its atmosphere a stark contrast to the fervent heat of the Soul Fighting Arena three days ago.

Inside the great hall, all bishops, high-ranking officials above the rank of Platinum Bishop, and the Titled Douluo of the Elder Hall were all present, lined up on both sides.

Qin Yao wore a brand-new Holy Son ceremonial robe, based in black with intricate and majestic patterns embroidered in dark gold thread, while the collar and cuffs were accented with dark purple crystals representing his martial soul.

He stood in the center of the hall, receiving the gaze of everyone present.

High upon the papal throne, Bibi Dong wore a magnificent papal robe, the Nine-Curve Purple Gold Crown upon her head, and held a scepter in her hand. She looked down at the tall, upright youth below, her expression calm, revealing neither joy nor anger.

The procedure for the canonization ceremony was not complex; it consisted of Bibi Dong personally reading the canonization document and bestowing the token and tokens of office that represented the status of Holy Son.

"Outstanding in talent, possessing both virtue and ability, you are a model for our Martial Soul Hall. Now, in the name of the Pope, I canonize Qin Yao as the Holy Son of Martial Soul Hall, with a rank equal to that of an Elder, enjoying the rites of the Worship Hall..."

Bibi Dong's cold, clear voice echoed through the hall.

Qin Yao knelt on one knee, hands raised high, and received the Lion King Token, carved from pure amethyst, from Bibi Dong's hands.

The token felt warm and smooth to the touch, yet heavy.

From this day forward, he was the legitimate Holy Son of Martial Soul Hall.

"Your Highness the Holy Son, please rise." Bibi Dong's voice pulled his thoughts back.

"Thank you, Your Holiness the Pope." Qin Yao stood up.

He could feel several complex gazes falling upon him from the crowd.

It was Hu Liena, Xie Yue, and Yan.

Their injuries had long since healed, and they were currently standing in the crowd, watching the youth who had thoroughly defeated them three days ago ascend to the position they had once craved.

The ceremony ended, and the crowd receded like a tide.

Qin Yao followed behind Qian Daoliu, preparing to return to the Worship Hall with his grandfathers.

"Your Highness the Holy Son, please stay."

A cold voice, carrying an air that brooked no refusal, came from the direction of the papal throne.

The air in the entire hall seemed to freeze in that instant.

The group, having just reached the entrance, stopped in unison, and everyone's gaze focused on the youth who had just turned around.

Qin Yao turned around and looked at the high-and-mighty Bibi Dong, his demeanor calm.

"Does Your Holiness the Pope have any instructions?"

Bibi Dong slowly rose from her throne, her magnificent robe trailing on the floor as she walked down the steps, one step at a time.

She did not look at Qian Daoliu, nor did she look at Qin Xiong; in those eyes, there was only the figure of Qin Yao.

"This Seat has some words I wish to speak with the Holy Son in private."

As soon as these words were spoken, Qin Xiong's brow immediately furrowed.

He was just about to speak, but was stopped by a gesture from Qian Daoliu.

Qian Daoliu stepped forward, nodded slightly toward Bibi Dong, his tone as indifferent as ever:

"Since the Pope has words for Xiao Yao, we shall wait outside the hall."

Having said this, he led the other members of the Worship Hall, turned, and walked out of the Pope Palace without the slightest hesitation.

Watching this scene, Qin Yao knew in his heart that this was his eldest grandfather backing him up.

He was telling Bibi Dong, and telling everyone else, that Qin Yao was a man of the Worship Hall; they were waiting just outside the door, and no one should think of playing any tricks.

In the vast, empty hall, only Qin Yao and Bibi Dong remained.

Bibi Dong walked up to Qin Yao, observing the youth at close range.

At twelve years of age, he was already a head taller than her, and that sharp-featured face lacked the callowness and nervousness a youth should have, showing only a profound stillness.

"You, are you not afraid of me?" Bibi Dong asked with interest.

"Your Holiness the Pope is the leader of Martial Soul Hall, and Qin Yao is the Holy Son of Martial Soul Hall; why should I be afraid?" Qin Yao replied.

Bibi Dong smiled.

"What a sharp-tongued boy."

"Qin Yao, do you know that the position of Holy Son is not the destination, but the starting point?"

"Qin Yao understands."

"No, you do not understand."

Bibi Dong stopped walking and stood slightly behind him.

"The Worship Hall is the cornerstone of Martial Soul Hall, revered by all, but they are too old and have long since drifted away from the center of power."

"And the Pope Palace is the sword with which our Martial Soul Hall cleaves through all obstacles."

Bibi Dong's voice lowered, carrying a seductive, bewitching magic.

"You are a smart man; you should know that the hilt of a sword is only truly secure when held in one's own hand."

Qin Yao did not speak, merely watching Bibi Dong in silence.

Bibi Dong continued, "I have seen your talent with my own eyes. I can offer you more than the Worship Hall ever could—power, status, resources. Whatever you desire, as long as you pledge your loyalty to me, I can grant it."

"I can even allow you and Nana to govern the future of Martial Soul Hall together."

Had these words been spoken to any other ambitious young man, he likely would have been unable to contain his excitement.

However, Qin Yao simply gave Bibi Dong a slight nod.

"Many thanks for your guidance, Your Holiness."

"Qin Yao is a person of Martial Soul Hall in life and a ghost of Martial Soul Hall in death. No matter where I am, I shall only fight for the glory of Martial Soul Hall."

If Qin Yao hadn't read the original work, he might have almost believed Bibi Dong's eloquent speech.

Then again, there was a possibility that at this stage, Bibi Dong had not yet completely descended into madness.

Bibi Dong took a long, deep look at Qin Yao.

What an impenetrable brat.

She waved her hand, her tone returning to its previous coldness. "Very well, you may go. Remember what you said today."

"Qin Yao takes his leave."

Qin Yao bowed once more, then turned and walked out of the Pope Palace with steady, composed steps.

Watching his back disappear through the doorway, Bibi Dong's brows furrowed slightly.

Winning over Qin Yao was merely a side move; failing to do so was perfectly normal, after all, Qin Yao was the grandson of the Fourth Worship.

As for eliminating him?

The thought had barely surfaced in Bibi Dong's mind before she extinguished it herself.

What a joke.

The Worship Hall was immensely powerful, and that old thing Qian Daoliu was no pushover.

Bibi Dong slowly sat back on her throne, feeling a sudden sense of irritation.

Outside the Pope Palace.

The moment Qin Yao stepped out of the gates, Qin Xiong rushed up to him impatiently.

"Xiao Yao, what did that woman say to you? Did she give you any trouble?"

"Grandfather, it was nothing," Qin Yao smiled. "Her Holiness simply encouraged me to cultivate diligently and bring glory to Martial Soul Hall."

"Just that?" Qin Xiong looked unconvinced.

"What else could it be?"

Beside them, Golden Crocodile Douluo snorted. "Old Four, do you think everyone is like you, with nothing but muscles and fighting in their head? Xiao Yao is sharp."

Qian Daoliu did not join their discussion, simply asking Qin Yao, "Is everything settled?"

"Yes." Qin Yao nodded. "Grand Elder, Grandfathers, I would like to set off today."

Hearing this, the group fell silent.

Finally, Qin Xiong sighed heavily, pulled a storage Soul Tool from his robes, and shoved it into Qin Yao's hand.

"You brat, this contains dry rations, Gold Soul Coins, and some healing medicine I prepared for you. When you're out there, don't try to be a hero. If you can't win, run. If you can't run, use your grandfather's name!"

"I understand, Grandfather." A warmth spread through Qin Yao's heart.

After bidding farewell to everyone, Qin Yao did not linger, heading toward the east gate of Martial Soul City alone.

A hundred miles outside of Martial Soul City, the surroundings were desolate and uninhabited.

Qin Yao stopped and confirmed his direction.

The next moment, he activated Martial Soul Possession, and a pair of massive, dark purple bone wings unfurled behind him.

With a single beat of his wings, Qin Yao shot into the sky, transforming into a streak of purple light as he flew rapidly toward Heaven Dou City.

He had chosen not to take a carriage; it was far too slow.

According to his memory, Tang San would not arrive in Heaven Dou City until next year, when he turned thirteen. He had plenty of time.

He would turn the Ice and Fire Yin-Yang Well in the Sunset Forest into his own private garden!

As for Dugu Bo?

Don't make me laugh. Aside from the cheat codes for the immortal herbs, he still had his grandfather, Qin Xiong, backing him.

Qin Yao had long since noticed Qin Xiong following him, but he didn't alert his grandfather; after all, this was all out of the old man's good intentions.

Shortly after Qin Yao flew into the sky, Qin Xiong's figure appeared quietly where he had just been standing.

He looked up at the direction his grandson had disappeared into and curled his lip.

"That brat, he flies pretty fast."

With that said, Qin Xiong transformed into a streak of fiery red light, trailing behind Qin Yao at a leisurely pace.

Several days later, Heaven Dou City, Sunset Forest.

Qin Yao's figure appeared on the outskirts of the forest.

He had not lingered in Heaven Dou City, coming directly here instead.

The moment he stepped into the forest, a damp scent mixed with the fragrance of vegetation rushed toward him.

If Dugu Bo were not present, then relying on his ability to fly and the poison-resistant effects of Purple Fire Possession, passing through the poison formation would be effortless!

With a clear objective, Qin Yao headed straight toward the depths of the forest.