Fallen Dragon Remnant, Soul Saint's Counterattack

The soul suddenly twisted, transforming into a pitch-black shadow that moved with astonishing speed.

Qian Anci had just finished guiding the souls, his internal soul power depleted.

He was momentarily unable to react.

"Seeking death."

Castorice's icy voice rang out.

Before her words even fell.

Behind Qian Anci, gray-white Death Qi erupted, and a massive bone dragon phantom materialized out of thin air.

Shadow of Pollux!

The bone dragon opened its maw, and a terrifying suction force suddenly erupted.

The evil spirit was swallowed whole into the dragon's mouth before it could even let out a scream.

Crunch. Crunch.

A grating chewing sound echoed within the cave.

The bone dragon lowered its head, its ghostly blue soul fire sweeping over Qian Anci before transforming into a mist of gray fog and re-entering his body.

Silence descended upon the cave.

Qian Anci knelt on one knee, gasping for breath.

He could feel that after the death dragon swallowed the evil spirit, the lifespan of his first soul ring, [Dragonfall Ring], seemed to have increased by a sliver.

"Your Highness..."

Ya Yi's voice came from behind him.

Qian Anci slowly rose, not looking back.

He knew Ya Yi had seen everything: the bone dragon that blotted out the sky, the unbelievable scene.

Qian Anci was still contemplating how to handle the situation.

But as he turned around.

He saw Ya Yi kneeling on one knee, his forehead pressed to the ground.

"This subordinate saw nothing.

The cave has been cleared. Please instruct on the next course of action, Your Highness."

What shouldn't be asked, isn't asked.

What shouldn't be seen, isn't seen.

Even if the Saint Son suddenly told him he was from another world, he would have to pretend not to hear.

Qian Anci watched him for a moment, then slowly nodded.

"Get up."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

Ya Yi rose and stood with his hands clasped, as if the terrifying scene had never happened.

"Let's go. We'll keep searching and find all these maggots."

Ya Yi immediately understood but spoke with a hint of worry.

"Your Highness, your soul power is exhausted. Perhaps this subordinate should first..."

"Lead the way," Qian Anci interrupted him. "Let's finish this quickly."

Ya Yi said no more, turning and darting out of the cave.

Black Stone Mountain, main peak, blood sacrifice cave.

As the two stepped inside, the heavy scent of blood was almost tangible.

The entire interior of the mountain peak had been hollowed out, forming a massive cave.

In the center of the cave, a giant tree, entirely blood-red, was rooted in a pile of corpses. Its trunk was covered in tumor-like growths resembling human faces, each one silently wailing.

Beneath the giant tree, a figure sat cross-legged. It was an old man clad in a dark red robe, his exposed skin covered in blood vessels connected to the giant tree.

The moment he opened his eyes, the blood energy in the entire cave seemed to pause.

"Martial Soul Hall?" the old man grinned, revealing a mouth full of yellowed teeth. "You killed two of my brothers and still dare to come knocking.

Boy, you have guts."

"Soul Sage."

Ya Yi whispered an explanation to Qian Anci beside him.

"Level seventy-four. Martial Soul: Blood Soul Demonic Tree, the ultimate mutated form of the Soul-Devouring Vine.

Your Highness..."

"Attack together."

Before Ya Yi could finish speaking, Qian Anci raised his right hand, the Scythe of Death condensing in his palm, interrupting him directly.

"He has devoured too much life force from innocent people. The longer we delay, the more variables there will be."

The old man let out a wild laugh and stood up abruptly.

The Blood Soul Demonic Tree behind him trembled violently, and countless blood-red vines erupted from the ground like mad snakes, each ending in a mouth filled with sharp teeth.

"Third Soul Skill, Sky-Soaring Blood Sea!"

The blood energy in the entire cave instantly boiled, transforming into a sky-raining blood mist that poured down.

Where the blood rain landed on the ground, it corroded and formed pits emitting green smoke.

Ya Yi's figure suddenly vanished from his spot, his Dark Crow Martial Soul Possession activating, turning him into a black stream of light that shot straight for the old man's throat.

He was an eighty-seventh level Spirit Douluo, his direct combat power far exceeding this Spirit Sage.

However, the old man merely sneered, and his first soul ring lit up.

On the trunk of the Blood Soul Demonic Tree, the human-faced tumors simultaneously opened their eyes, shooting out dense beams of blood-colored light.

Ya Yi was forced to dodge, his body twisting in mid-air, yet he was still grazed on the shoulder by a beam of light.

The Dark Crow Martial Soul let out a mournful cry, his left shoulder instantly corroded into a charred black mess, and his figure stumbled to the ground.

"Ya Yi!"

Qian Anci's eyes flared with gray light, and his first soul ring suddenly lit up.

"First Soul Skill, Guidance of the Underworld Path!"

Fine lines, mixed with dark red within gray and white, tore through the blood rain, slashing directly at the old man.

The old man neither dodged nor blocked, allowing the fine lines to slash into his chest. Blood gushed out, sticking to the lines and preventing them from penetrating further.

"Boy, your martial soul is indeed strange."

The old man looked down at the wound on his chest, his smile ferocious.

"But I have devoured the life force of over three hundred people, my physical body is already immortal and indestructible. Do you, a mere Soul Elder, think you can kill me?"

He clapped his hands together forcefully, and the Blood Soul Demonic Tree grew wildly. Countless vines intertwined to form a blood-colored giant palm that blotted out the sky, slamming down fiercely towards Qian Anci!

The might of a Spirit Sage, terrifying indeed.

Before the giant palm even arrived, the soul power pressure caused Qian Anci's bones to groan under the unbearable strain.

The gap was too vast. Between a Spirit Sage and a Soul Elder, there was an insurmountable chasm.

"Your Highness!"

Ya Yi roared, forcefully breaking through the blockade of blood-colored light beams and blocking in front of Qian Anci.

The Dark Crow Martial Soul transformed into a massive black wing, taking the full force of the palm strike.

Bang!

Ya Yi was sent flying back like a kite with a broken string, crashing against the rock wall at the edge of the cave, spitting blood from his mouth.

His martial soul's phantom flickered violently, clearly indicating a severe injury.

"Annoying pest."

The old man snorted coldly, his gaze returning to Qian Anci.

"Now, it's your turn. Your life force... is much more delicious than those mortals."

Blood-red vines surged from all directions, completely sealing off Qian Anci's retreat.

Qian Anci stood in place, gripping the Scythe of Death.

"Castorice."

He called out softly in his heart.

"I'm here."

That gentle voice immediately responded, with a hint of solemnity.

"Anci, do you really intend to use the power of the Death Dragon again?"

"Don't you remember.

You just used it not long ago! Repeated use within this short period will be too much for your body to bear."

"I know."

Qian Anci looked up, gazing at the blood-colored giant palm that was condensing once more.

"But today, he must die."

"...Alright."

In an instant, a faint purple hue appeared in Qian Anci's pupils.

He slowly raised the Scythe of Death, three rings of soul rings swirling wildly beneath his feet.

Behind him, gray-white Death Qi surged, and the phantom of the Underworld Wasteland flickered in and out of existence, as if the leaden sky and cracked earth of that realm were manifesting in this world.

The smile on the old man's face froze for the first time.

He felt the threat of death emanating from Qian Anci.

"This is..."

Qian Anci spoke softly.

"Second Martial Soul, Pollux."

"First Soul Skill, Dragon Fall Breath."

ROAR—!

A deafening dragon's roar resounded across the heavens and earth. The phantom of the Bone Dragon descended completely, opening its massive maw to spew forth a torrent of gray-white breath.

It was not fire, nor was it frost, but the lingering resentment from the fall of the Dragon God—the very essence of death that brings an end to all things.