The Pope's Soul Pressure Crushes

Early morning.

"BOOM!"

The heavy brass doors of the main hall of the Pope Palace were blasted open by an overbearing and peerless light-attribute soul power.

Blinding morning light, mixed with the oppressive tension of an impending storm, poured madly into the hall.

Qian Daoliu, clad in a brilliant golden robe, strode across the threshold with the gait of a dragon and the steps of a tiger.

Behind him, the Second Worship, Golden Crocodile Douluo, and three other Worships stood in a line, radiating murderous intent.

Pei Yuan followed closely behind, his footsteps carrying the arrogance of a petty man who had finally gained power.

The Worship Hall had actually mobilized in full force!

The air pressure inside the hall plummeted.

Pei Yuan stepped forward and stood firm, his hands suddenly flicking open a dark golden scroll—it was the highest-level impeachment document, stamped with the seal of the Worship Hall!

"Library Pavilion servant Su Chen has concealed the true nature of his martial soul!"

Pei Yuan's voice, infused with soul power, made the hall hum with vibration. "This person has strange leaf patterns on the back of his hands and carries a rare treasure capable of subverting our Martial Soul Hall! This subordinate implores Your Holiness the Pope to immediately hand this heretic over to the Worship Hall for rigorous interrogation!"

Every word was a killing blow; he had firmly pinned the massive label of "subverting Martial Soul Hall" onto Su Chen.

Qian Daoliu stood with his hands behind his back, not even lifting his eyelids.

Yet, the invisible pressure belonging to a level ninety-nine Limit Douluo had already spread like spilled mercury, covering every inch of the hall.

Angela and the other Red-robed Bishops on either side of the steps felt their legs go weak, barely able to stand.

Cold sweat slid down their temples and hit the floor tiles; they felt a knife-like stinging pain with every breath they took.

Meanwhile, on the third floor of the Library Pavilion.

Su Chen was lying comfortably on the repaired bamboo chair, covered by a thin blanket.

He squinted his eyes, the light screen of the Eye of Omniscience glowing faintly in his mind.

The standoff inside the Pope Palace was being "live-streamed" in his mind in 4K high-definition, with no blind spots.

Even the cold, calculating glint in the depths of Qian Daoliu's eyes was perfectly clear.

Good grief, this old man's ability to frame others is truly masterful. Su Chen clicked his tongue in his heart, shifted into an even more comfortable position, and continued to watch the show.

Inside the Pope Palace.

Qian Daoliu finally deigned to lift his eyelids, looking down from his position at Bibi Dong on the throne.

"Bibi Dong, a mere servant has now become a matter concerning the century-old foundation of our Martial Soul Hall."

His voice was low, carrying an imperative tone that brooked no refusal. "As the Pope, if you insist on shielding him, you are placing personal feelings above the overall interests of Martial Soul Hall. The Worship Hall has the right to intervene directly."

The greater good, the foundation, the overall interest.

Three massive mountains pressed down, step by step, intended to nail Bibi Dong to the pillar of shame as a "tyrant."

However, Bibi Dong sat upright on her throne, her spine straight as a rod.

She watched the duet performed by Qian Daoliu and Pei Yuan below, a cold, bone-chilling mockery slowly curling the corners of her lips.

She couldn't even be bothered to waste a single word.

She lifted her right index finger slightly, and a wisp of purple-black light flashed from her fingertip.

"Sshhh~"

The space emitted a faint, explosive sound.

The golden impeachment document in Pei Yuan's hand, stamped with the seal of the Worship Hall, along with a portion of his sleeve, was instantly shredded into fine powder by the violent and peerless Rakshasa death energy!

Golden fragments fluttered and fell, covering the jade steps.

Pei Yuan retreated three steps, clutching his wrist where a bloody gash had been carved, his face turning deathly pale.

"Hiss!"

A collective gasp of cold air echoed through the hall.

Golden Crocodile Douluo and the other three Worships looked stunned, their hearts shaken to the core.

Angela and the others were so terrified they forgot to breathe.

She was insane!

Was Her Holiness the Pope... going on a killing spree?!

That was an impeachment document tacitly approved by the Great Worship!

She had actually shredded it right in front of everyone!

This was no longer just a slap in the face; this was a declaration of war against the entire Worship Hall, a fight to the death!

"Presumptuous!" Qian Daoliu's expression turned as dark as water in an instant.

He let out a cold snort, and his eyes suddenly erupted with blinding golden light!

A colossal phantom of the Six-Winged Angel soared into the sky behind him, its radiant, divine, and overwhelmingly tyrannical pressure manifesting as an invisible mountain that crushed down toward the throne!

The air was compressed into a piercing shriek, and the towering stone pillars within the hall began to emit groaning "crack-crack" sounds under the unbearable strain.

Bibi Dong watched the incoming divine golden light with cold eyes.

She braced her hands against the armrests of the throne and slowly stood up.

In an instant, a purple-black Rakshasa death aura—more tyrannical, profound, and maddening than the light—exploded from her center!

Accompanied by a scalp-tingling sound of tearing!

Eight massive, dark purple, hundred-thousand-year External Soul Bone Demon Spider Legs violently burst through her papal robes and shot into the air!

The sharp spider spears shimmered with a ghostly blue, venomous light, pointing straight at the ceiling like a scythe formation unfurled by the God of Death!

"BOOM!"

Two extreme forces collided violently in mid-air.

The terrifying pressure of the soul bones intertwined with the evil intent of the Rakshasa, forming a massive black wall that swallowed the light and forcibly held back the divine soul pressure of Qian Daoliu!

No! It did more than just hold it back!

Under the erosion of the purple-black toxic miasma, that sky-filling golden light was actually forced back by three feet!

The expression of Golden Crocodile Douluo changed completely.

The two Worships behind him even took half a step back involuntarily, their eyes filled with disbelief.

The Great Worship was a ninety-nine-level Limit Douluo!

Who could have imagined that the true combat power of Pope Bibi Dong had reached such a terrifying level that she could go head-to-head with the Great Worship?!

Even that pure sense of deathly silence and madness made these veteran Title Douluos feel a chill that reached their very souls!

The eight Demon Spider Legs behind Bibi Dong slowly unfurled.

The purple-black toxic miasma spread across the floor like a tide, sealing off every exit of the great hall.

The hard stone tiles cracked inch by inch beneath her feet.

She looked down at the livid Qian Daoliu, her eyes devoid of any room for negotiation, leaving only pure, unmasked slaughter.

"This Seat will say this one last time."

Her voice pierced through the hall, every word dripping with blood.

"Whoever dares to touch anyone from the Library Pavilion, today, this Pope Palace shall be decorated with the corpses of a few Worships to toast the banners."

No pretense, no concern for the bigger picture.

Either get out, or die.

This was the choice she offered.

Qian Daoliu's fists clenched tightly, the veins on his forehead bulging.

He stared fixedly at the woman before the throne who had made up her mind to kill, the wariness in his eyes reaching its peak.

This madwoman!

She really dared to do it!

If a war broke out, both sides would inevitably suffer; tearing off the mask now would do more harm than good!

After weighing the options, Qian Daoliu ground his teeth and forcibly retracted the Angel phantom.

The golden light dissipated.

He looked coldly at Bibi Dong and squeezed five words through his teeth: "You, suit yourself."

With that, he flicked his sleeves violently and turned to leave.

Qian Daoliu led Golden Crocodile Douluo and the others out of the hall in humiliation, stepping through a layer of golden dust.

The people from the Worship Hall retreated completely.

The suffocating pressure within the hall finally dissipated.

"Thud."

The Cardinals of the Pope's faction felt their knees go weak and knelt in unison.

"Your Majesty's divine might!"

Angela's forehead pressed against the cold floor, her voice trembling, while her heart surged with near-fanatical shock.

Since the founding of Martial Soul Hall, this was the first time a Pope had used absolute dominance to force back the Worship Hall in public!

Inside the Library Pavilion.

The system interface in Su Chen's mind was instantly flooded with a brilliant golden light.

Piercing mechanical sounds rang out in a continuous barrage.

[Ding! Detected Binder No. 001 Bibi Dong. Forcibly repelling a Limit Douluo for the Lord of Creation, the objective of powerful protection has been achieved!]

[Hundredfold critical return triggered!]

[Rewards obtained: Origin spiritual power has completed a qualitative leap! The detection precision and range of the Eye of Omniscience have surged geometrically!]

A surging torrent of heat rushed down from the crown of his head, pouring into his Sea of Divine Consciousness.

Su Chen even held his breath for a fleeting moment.

The World Tree within his Sea of Divine Consciousness swayed joyfully, divine light circulating between its branches and leaves.

He snapped his eyes open, a dark gold hue capable of perceiving all things flickering deep within his pupils.

The detection network of the Eye of Omniscience expanded silently in that instant, extending from the surroundings of the Library Pavilion all the way out to encompass the entire Martial Soul City, the depths of the Pope Palace, and even the secret chambers beneath the Worship Hall, bringing them all under surveillance!

Every undercurrent in every corner, every hidden fluctuation of soul power, had nowhere to hide.

The news of the Pope forcing back the Great Worship in public spread like a storm among the core upper echelons of Martial Soul Hall.

Everyone with a keen sense of smell caught the scent of an impending change in the heavens of Martial Soul Hall.

Yet the center of this storm, the Library Pavilion, remained so quiet that not even a breeze could slip inside.

Night fell.

The moonlight was tightly obscured by thick layers of clouds.

"Creak~"

The newly repaired wooden door of the Library Pavilion was pushed open gently.

Bibi Dong carried a carved food box as she stepped over the threshold.

There was no longer a trace of purple-black baleful aura about her, and her formal Pope attire had been replaced by a minimalist moon-white casual outfit, tucking away the violence and killing intent of the day entirely.

She walked to the tea table and set down the food box.

Su Chen, being very sensible, rose from his bamboo chair and feigned a look of being flattered, stepping forward to take the bowls and chopsticks.

The moment his hand touched the edge of the food box, his gaze paused imperceptibly.

His sight landed precisely on Bibi Dong's left hand.

The index finger wrapped in gauze had been treated with new medicine today.

But that was not the main point.

On her index finger, middle finger, and the knuckles of her hand, there were several tiny, fresh knife cuts that had not yet fully scabbed over.

Most noticeably, on the fingertips she used to hold the handle, a thin layer of calluses—the kind only formed by practicing with a blade—had been worn into her skin, which was originally as smooth as jade.

Su Chen saw through it but did not speak.

Good grief!

Hard-carrying against a Limit Douluo in the day with such domineering flair, only to secretly practice cooking at night until her hands were calloused?

Just so that... this meal wouldn't be burnt again.

Who could withstand this contrast?

Su Chen reached out to take the bowls and chopsticks, his voice lowered, carrying a hint of just the right, barely audible tremor: "Your Excellency... you have worked hard."

Bibi Dong's fingers jerked back, quickly hiding into her wide sleeves.

She turned her head away somewhat awkwardly, leaving Su Chen with only the view of her elegantly lined profile.

"Eat your food."

Her voice was cold and stiff, her speech rapid, as if she were masking some indescribable emotion.

But Su Chen, with his sharp eyes, saw that her fair earlobes had already been dyed a faint crimson in the dim light.

In the corner of the light screen.

[Bibi Dong's current favorability: 32→36]