The Eve of the Storm

Qian Renxue's figure merged completely into the night of Martial Soul City, the sound of her slightly hurried breathing fading away along with her.

Inside the Library Pavilion, Su Chen's straightened spine slowly relaxed.

He rested his hands casually on the armrests of the bamboo chair, and that aura of a supreme being looking down upon the ages instantly dissipated into nothingness.

His shoulders hunched slightly, his breathing leveled out.

The skin of a sickly, cowardly low-level servant was "put back on" once more.

Just as he leaned back against the chair, preparing to close his eyes.

Deep within his Sea of Divine Consciousness, the light screen of the Eye of Omniscience suddenly emitted an extremely sharp hum.

The originally pale blue radar interface had its edges replaced by a glaring ring of dark gold.

The cursor streaked across the inner city of Martial Soul City at high speed, locking firmly onto the underground secret chamber in the deepest part of the Worship Hall.

An extremely cold and oppressive storm of data was gathering frantically on the screen.

Su Chen half-opened his eyes, a mocking curve tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Old things, have you finally lost your patience?"

Worship Hall, underground secret chamber.

The dim candlelight flickered violently, buffeted by a cold draft leaking in from somewhere unknown.

At the head of the long table, Qian Daoliu sat with his eyes closed, his bright golden robe still dazzling in the gloom.

The Second Worship, Golden Crocodile Douluo, walked in quickly, his face so dark it looked like it could drip water.

He stepped to Qian Daoliu's side and pushed a thick beast-skin dossier, sealed with top-secret wax, onto the table with both hands.

"Big Brother, it has been checked." Golden Crocodile Douluo's voice was very low, laced with an irrepressible irritation.

Qian Daoliu did not even lift his eyelids.

"The Intelligence Department mobilized the entire Dark Web, even digging up dusty files from sixteen years ago."

Golden Crocodile Douluo tapped his knuckles against the edge of the dossier. "This Su Chen was brought into Martial Soul Hall sixteen years ago by an old, dim-sighted low-level elder in the outer city named Zhao Lin, under the guise of 'adopting an orphan.' Zhao Lin has been dead for ten years."

He paused, a hint of chill in his tone: "Other than that, it is a complete blank. Who his parents were, where he was born, there isn't even a record of his martial soul awakening. He is as if he just popped out of a rock."

A resume that had exhausted the full power of the Worship Hall to investigate was actually as clean as a blank sheet of paper.

This, in itself, was the most suspicious thing of all.

At the end of the long table, a vicious glint flashed in Pei Yuan's eyes.

He stepped forward abruptly and bowed with cupped hands.

"Great Worship, the fact that no such person can be found is the ironclad proof!"

Pei Yuan raised his volume, his tone filled with irrepressible excitement. "With the Year-End Sacrificial Ceremony approaching, according to the rules, all personnel in the inner court must undergo identity verification."

"We can use the excuse of 'purging inner-court ghosts of unknown origin' to force this Su Chen to undergo a public martial soul display assessment at the ceremony!"

As soon as these words were spoken, the gazes of the several Worships in the secret chamber fell upon him in unison.

Pei Yuan puffed out his chest, a grim arc pulling at the corner of his mouth: "Isn't Bibi Dong protecting him? If he cannot display a high-level martial soul, then it is a capital crime of deceiving the Pope and lurking in the inner court!"

"Our Worship Hall Law Enforcement Team can execute him on the spot! It would be open and aboveboard; no one could find fault with it!"

Killing with rules.

An overt plot.

Forcing a waste with no soul power onto a public stage for display was a death sentence.

The several Worships exchanged glances, their hearts chilling slightly, inwardly sighing at the ruthlessness of such a cutthroat tactic.

Qian Daoliu finally opened his eyes.

In those cloudy yet sharp, hawk-like eyes, there was no appreciation for Pei Yuan's scheme, only bottomless greed and fanaticism.

His withered fingers tapped the table rhythmically, one after another.

His fingertips were pressing directly upon the Holy Judgment Token engraved with nine Angel God Patterns.

"Kill a servant?" Qian Daoliu sneered, his voice sounding like two rusted iron plates rubbing together. "Pei Yuan, your vision is too narrow."

Pei Yuan was stunned, the smugness on his face instantly freezing.

Qian Daoliu flipped his palm abruptly, slamming the Holy Judgment Token onto the table with a dull thud.

"In this game, Su Chen is merely bait."

Qian Daoliu's gaze was like a blade, sweeping over everyone present. "My true goal is to force Bibi Dong to forcibly shield a waste of unknown origin in front of the entire hall's high-level officials, in front of all the bishops and elders!"

He stood up abruptly, the sacred pressure of a Limit Douluo surging violently through the great chamber.

"As long as she dares to stop it, as long as she dares to trample on the iron laws of Martial Soul Hall for the sake of this man, this old man can rightfully bring out this Holy Judgment Token!"

"At that time, the charges of abuse of power and causing chaos in the inner court will be enough to completely hollow out her authority! Perhaps even depose her from the position of Pope!"

Qian Daoliu laughed out loud, his laughter filled with an extreme craving for power.

Inside the Library Pavilion.

Su Chen leaned back in his bamboo chair, the screen of the Eye of Omniscience broadcasting every word and micro-expression from the secret chamber in crystal-clear resolution.

The fanatical, smug look on Qian Daoliu's face was particularly grating on the screen.

"Depose the Pope? Such a massive appetite." Su Chen tapped his fingers against the armrest.

Those old dogs in the Worship Hall were calculating with extreme precision.

By using an overt scheme to force the palace, they stood to gain regardless: either kill him to establish their authority or drag Bibi Dong down from her position.

Yet, he did not feel a shred of panic.

Su Chen slowly raised his left hand.

Under the cover of night, a faint, emerald light flickered beneath the skin of his hand and vanished.

It was the subtle reflection of the World Tree Origin Pattern.

Forcing him to reveal his martial soul? Forcing him to prove he wasn't a waste?

Su Chen chuckled softly.

The World Tree was a creation-level martial soul that stood above all the rules of the Douluo Continent.

If those old things insisted on witnessing it at the Year-End Sacrificial Ceremony, he wouldn't mind giving them a little shock.

"Since you're sticking your faces out for me to slap, how could I justify not hitting hard enough to earn a system critical strike?"

He closed his eyes, beginning to calculate in his mind how to maximize his gains at the ceremony in a few days' time.

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

The air was stiflingly heavy.

In the center of the hall, a top-tier shadow guard dressed in black night-garb knelt on the floor like a withered stump.

"Reporting to Your Holiness, there have been abnormal troop movements on the periphery of the Worship Hall. The Third and Seventh Judgment Squads have been secretly reassigned to the perimeter of the Elder Hall."

The shadow guard spoke with rapid, strained intensity, "Additionally, my subordinates have verified that Pei Yuan, the law-enforcement elder of the Worship Hall, secretly contacted the inner court protocol officer half an hour ago."

The shadow guard swallowed hard, cold sweat dripping down his chin.

Although he hadn't been able to eavesdrop on the core conversation in the secret chamber, these peripheral clues revealed an extremely dangerous signal.

On the throne, Bibi Dong sat motionless in the shadows.

She did not speak.

But the political instincts she had honed over forty years of crawling through a sea of blood and power allowed her to piece together the Worship Hall's entire intent the moment she heard the words "protocol officer."

The Year-End Sacrificial Ceremony, identity verification, public assessment.

The target: Su Chen.

That old immortal Qian Daoliu wanted to use the rules of the Martial Soul Hall to drag Su Chen to the execution block under the eyes of the masses.

And, incidentally, to test her bottom line.

"BOOM!"

A tangible, purple-black Rakshasa killing intent erupted from Bibi Dong as the center!

The hard jade armrests of the throne were crushed under her grip, leaving deep finger indentations, and the air filled with a nauseating scent of blood and death.

The shadow guard below the steps was struck by this terrifying pressure as if hit by a heavy hammer. He spat out a mouthful of blood, his body pinned to the floor as his bones groaned under the unbearable weight, his heart filled with absolute terror.

"Get out."

Bibi Dong's voice was bone-chillingly cold.

The shadow guard felt as if he had been granted a reprieve; without even wiping the blood from his mouth, he scrambled out of the hall and slammed the doors shut.

In the empty, vast hall, only Bibi Dong remained.

Purple-black death energy churned wildly around her as she stood up and strode down the steps.

Reason told her that Qian Daoliu had set a perfect, interlocking death trap.

A servant without even a single soul ring being pushed onto the stage of the Sacrificial Ceremony, facing the scrutiny of dozens of high-ranking bishops and Title Douluos, was equivalent to being thrown directly into a meat grinder.

If she forcibly intervened to protect him, she would surely face impeachment from the entire Worship Hall, along with that Holy Judgment Token hanging over her head.

Her power, her years of planning, and even her life would be destroyed in an instant.

If she took a step back and handed over Su Chen, she would remain the high and mighty Pope.

But she stopped in her tracks.

In her mind, the scene from last night surfaced uncontrollably.

In the dim Library Pavilion, Su Chen had held that bowl of charred, murky, foul-smelling leftovers with both hands.

He had tilted his head back and drained it without a moment's hesitation.

As he set down the bowl, those clear eyes looked straight at her.

"This is the freshest soup this subordinate has ever tasted in this life."

For forty years, he was the only person to accept all her wretchedness and clumsiness, offering the most pure and sincere feedback in return.

He was the only ray of light to shine into her withered soul within this cold Martial Soul Hall.

Bibi Dong slowly closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, all the struggle and calculation in her gaze had been crushed to dust by the madness and resolve unique to the Rakshasa God.

What was the dignity of the Pope? What were the iron laws of Martial Soul Hall?

If Qian Daoliu wanted to tear this light apart, then he had better be prepared to pay with his life!

She raised her right hand, forcing a drop of crimson heart blood from her fingertip.

Driven by soul power, the blood transformed into an incredibly complex dark red rune in mid-air.

This was a secret soul power transmission exclusive to the Pope's core inner circle, never to be used unless the situation was a matter of life and death.

"Angela, enter the palace at once."

Less than half a quarter of an hour later.

The palace doors were pushed open just a crack, and Angela rushed into the hall, drenched in sweat, dropping heavily to one knee.

The air pressure inside the hall was so low that even breathing made one's lungs ache. Angela did not even dare to look up at Bibi Dong's face.

Bibi Dong looked down at her from on high, her tone steady yet permeated with a bone-chilling, deathly silence.

"Angela, listen well to every word from This Seat."

Angela shuddered. "This subordinate obeys!"

"Immediately mobilize your most absolutely loyal confidants and secretly reopen the ancient secret passage beneath the Pope Palace, the one that leads directly to the Sunset Forest outside the city."

Angela's pupils constricted violently.

The ancient secret passage? That was the final escape route should Martial Soul Hall ever fall; the Pope actually intended to reopen it!

"On the day of the Year-End Sacrificial Ceremony," Bibi Dong's gaze pierced through the palace doors, staring into the void, "once the situation spirals out of control and the Worship Hall makes their move, you are not to concern yourself with the fate of the palace."

"Your only mission is to lead the Judgment Death Squad and forcibly take Su Chen from the Library Pavilion, evacuating him from Martial Soul City via the secret passage!"

"Spare no cost! Even if every one of your people dies, you must get him out!"

Boom!

These words were like a thunderbolt from the heavens, shattering Angela's psychological defenses.

Ignore the fate of the palace if things spiral out of control?

Evacuate a man?

This order was tantamount to saying: if Qian Daoliu dared to touch Su Chen, Her Excellency the Pope was already prepared to abandon the entire Martial Soul City, relinquish the position of Pope, and even personally hold the line with a death-defying resolve!

For a mere servant?!

"Your Excellency! This..." Angela suddenly looked up, her lips pale.

"This is a military order." Bibi Dong's eyes were like an abyss, cutting off all of Angela's attempts at persuasion. "Go."

"...This subordinate, obeys!"