Undercurrents in the Worship Hall

The deepest secret chamber of the Worship Hall.

Click.

Withered fingers exerted sudden force, instantly pressing deep indentations into the fragile pages of an ancient tome.

Qian Daoliu's murky, aged eyes were now webbed with bloodshot veins, locked firmly onto those eight characters.

"Tree of Creation, source of all things."

The images reported by Pei Yuan half an hour ago were still replaying in his mind.

The green leaf pattern that flashed across the back of the servant's hand when his sleeve slipped, and that terrifying vitality that crushed all plant-type martial souls...

Qian Daoliu's breathing grew increasingly heavy.

Suspicion?

No, now there remained only pure greed and fanaticism!

He had lived too long and stood at the pinnacle of the world for too long; no one knew better than he what this power signified!

That trash, whom Bibi Dong guarded like a mother hen in the Library Pavilion, harbored an ultimate secret within his body capable of overturning the divine power structure of the entire continent!

He must obtain it! At any cost!

Suddenly, a Soul Tool in the corner, used exclusively for communication with the Heaven Dou Empire, emitted a faint light.

Qian Daoliu strode over, retrieved the secret scroll, and swept his gaze across it.

His shriveled facial muscles twitched violently.

Qian Renxue, citing a sacrificial ceremony for the Heaven Dou Empire, was returning to the city early and would arrive in a few days.

"Xue'er, you have returned at the perfect time."

The corners of Qian Daoliu's mouth slowly curled into a sinister arc.

His five fingers snapped shut, the sacred soul power of his Six-Winged Angel bursting forth in his palm, and the secret letter instantly turned into golden ash.

A perfect killing trap had already taken shape in his mind.

"Summon the Second Worship and the Third Worship to the chamber at once!" His soul-powered voice pierced through the void instantly.

Half a quarter of an hour later.

Inside the dim secret chamber, Golden Crocodile Douluo and the others sat around a long table, their expressions grave.

Qian Daoliu stood at the head of the table, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the surface, his tone cold enough to freeze.

"Xue'er is returning. We shall use the excuse of the Young Master's return to purge internal threats, forcing the Pope Palace to open the Library Pavilion for a joint investigation."

His gaze was like a blade as he swept it across the group: "The moment our people step inside, immediately seize that servant named Su Chen and bring him back!"

A deathly silence filled the secret chamber.

Golden Crocodile Douluo's brows knitted into a knot: "Big Brother, Bibi Dong is a madwoman right now! She even dared to crush the Elder Token in public for the sake of a servant. If we force our way in, she will absolutely dare to fight us to the death!"

Qian Daoliu sneered, his withered right hand flipping over with a sudden motion.

"Bang!"

A heavy, dark-gold token was slammed hard onto the table.

The moment the token appeared, the very air in the secret chamber seemed to be sucked dry!

An ancient, heavy, and sacred pressure carrying the weight of absolute judgment erupted and spread!

Engraved on the surface of the token were nine Angel God Patterns, complex to the extreme.

"The Holy Judgment Token?!"

The Second Worship sprang from his chair, gasping for air!

The others turned deathly pale, their pupils shrinking violently.

The Holy Judgment Token! The final trump card of Martial Soul Hall to check the Pope, possessing the power to depose and appoint!

"Investigating the Library Pavilion is just a pretext." A fierce light flared in the depths of Qian Daoliu's eyes. "The real killing blow is using that servant to force Bibi Dong to act!"

"If she retreats, Su Chen belongs to us; if she dares to stop us, it is shielding heresy and abuse of power!"

Qian Daoliu's finger jabbed heavily onto the Holy Judgment Token. "At that point, This Seat will rightfully activate this token and completely strip her of her position as Pope!"

The several Worships looked at one another, feeling a chill run down their spines.

This wasn't just a power struggle; the Great Worship was flipping the table, intending to uproot that female Pope, who was only just beginning to spread her wings, once and for all!

At the same time, the main hall of the Pope Palace.

The hall was vast and silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Bibi Dong sat high upon her throne, her fingertips tapping rhythmically against the armrest.

Below the dais, a black-robed scout knelt on one knee, his head bowed low.

"Reporting to Your Holiness, we have intercepted and decrypted the secret letter from the Worship Hall. Young Master Qian Renxue is returning."

"Furthermore, all core elders of the Worship Hall have gathered in the Grand Elder's secret chamber."

Bibi Dong's rhythmic tapping ceased.

"Withdraw." Her voice was as cold as ice.

The scout vanished like a shadow.

In the vast, empty hall, Bibi Dong narrowed her eyes slightly. Her gaze, cold as if looking at the dead, instantly saw through the schemes of those old fossils.

Using Qian Renxue's name to breach her defenses? A forced abdication?

If she retreated, Su Chen would be taken; if she resisted, even more venomous traps awaited.

Did she look afraid?

Bibi Dong stood up abruptly.

BOOM—!

The purple-black divine might of the Rakshasa God surged like a prison, instantly crushing the air within the hall and causing the pillars to hum and vibrate!

She felt not a shred of apprehension, nor did she harbor the slightest intention of yielding.

"Angela." Her voice, laced with soul power, pierced through the hall doors.

Angela pushed the doors open and rushed in, dropping heavily to her knees.

"Take this Seat's decree!" Bibi Dong looked down from above, every word she uttered reeking of blood. "Mobilize the first and second squads of the Judgment Knights, fully armed, and take control of the Library Pavilion!"

Angela's pupils constricted violently.

The Judgment Knights! The Pope's own killing machines—to mobilize them was equivalent to a declaration of total war!

"Pass the order." Bibi Dong's voice was devoid of emotion. "Regardless of who it is, or what pretext they use, anyone who dares to approach within three hundred paces of the Library Pavilion..."

"No warnings required—execute them on the spot!"

Angela's hands trembled like leaves in a gale, her forehead pressed firmly against the cold floor tiles.

She had gone mad.

To protect that servant who didn't even possess a single soul ring, the Pope was truly prepared to wage full-scale war against the Worship Hall and bathe Martial Soul City in blood!

"This subordinate... obeys!" Angela scrambled out, her red robes already soaked through with cold sweat.

Third floor of the Library Pavilion.

Su Chen lay leisurely on the repaired bamboo chair, a thin blanket draped over him.

Within his mind, the light screen of the Eye of Omniscience glowed faintly.

The entire Martial Soul City was laid bare before him, like a high-precision data sandbox.

The deep red light dots representing the Judgment Knights were surrounding the Library Pavilion like a tidal wave, leaving no gaps.

From the direction of the Worship Hall, the golden light dots representing the high-ranking elders were coalescing like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

A playful arc tugged at the corner of Su Chen's mouth.

Qian Daoliu's "Holy Judgment Token," along with his grand declarations of flipping the table, were all clearly monitored under the Eye of Omniscience.

He had not only seen through the old man's trump cards, but at the edge of the screen, a cursor labeled [Subject 002: Qian Renxue] was also approaching the coordinates of Martial Soul City at high speed.

"Yo, everyone is quite the player, aren't they?" Su Chen whistled inwardly.

Two behemoths standing at the pinnacle of the continent were frantically testing the edge of the cliff, all for the sake of him—the bait wearing a sheep's skin.

He didn't need to do anything.

He only needed to continue playing the part of the frail, helpless waste who had just recovered from a grave illness.

He would watch as Bibi Dong's protective instincts were pushed to the breaking point, and watch as Qian Renxue, driven by that damned system mission, was forced to bite the bullet and charge through the death trap her mother had laid.

Deep within his Sea of Divine Consciousness, the World Tree martial soul swayed gently, masking his aura so thoroughly that not a breath could escape.

Late night in Martial Soul City.

Dark clouds obscured the moon, and the air pressure across the city was terrifyingly low.

The unmasked killing intent from the Pope Palace collided violently with the hidden undercurrents of the Worship Hall above the inner city.

Every high-level soul master in the city felt their hearts tremble, their breathing reduced to the shallowest of gasps.

The storm was coming.

Pope Palace, underground secret chamber.

Bibi Dong sat cross-legged.

A trace of Rakshasa evil intent, born from her murderous thoughts, was suppressed firmly by the lingering woody fragrance within her Sea of Divine Consciousness.

It was the scent Su Chen had left behind.

Her mind was clearer than it had ever been, and the killing intent belonging to a peak ninety-ninth-rank Douluo was honed to an edge sharper than any blade.

Bibi Dong slowly raised her head.

Her gaze seemed to pierce through the thick layers of the earth, striking directly at the Worship Hall.

A cruel arc curled at the corners of her bloodless lips, and every word she spat out felt as if it had been dredged from the depths of the nine nether hells, icy and bone-chilling:

"If you truly dare to touch Su Chen..."

"This Seat would not mind letting the Worship Hall vanish from the map of the Martial Soul Hall entirely."