The Calm Before the Storm

Qian Renxue's figure vanished completely into the night of Spirit City, and the sound of her slightly hurried breathing faded with her.

Inside the Library Pavilion, Su Chen's straight back slowly relaxed.

He rested his hands casually on the armrests of the bamboo chair. The lonely aura of a superior, looking down across the ages, vanished in an instant.

His shoulders hunched slightly, and his breathing evened out.

The sickly, timid shell of a lowly servant had been "put back on" him.

He had just leaned back in the chair, ready to close his eyes.

Deep in his Sea of Divine Consciousness, the Light Screen of the Eye of Omniscience suddenly let out an extremely sharp buzz.

The edges of the radar interface, originally pale blue, were replaced by a glaring ring of dark gold.

The cursor raced across the inner city of Spirit City, locking firmly onto the underground chamber deep within the Worship Hall.

An intensely cold, oppressive storm of data was gathering furiously on the Light Screen.

Su Chen opened his eyes halfway, the corner of his mouth curling in mockery.

"You old fossils finally can't hold back?"

Underground chamber, Worship Hall.

The dim candlelight swayed violently as a draft of cold air blew in from who knew where.

At the head of the long table, Qian Daoliu sat with his eyes closed, meditating. His golden robes still gleamed even in the dimness.

The Second Worship, Golden Crocodile Douluo, strode in, his expression dark enough to drip water.

He went to Qian Daoliu's side and pushed a thick animal-hide dossier across the table with both hands. Its seal bore classified wax.

"Big brother, we've looked into it." Golden Crocodile Douluo kept his voice low, but could not conceal his irritation.

Qian Daoliu didn't even lift an eyelid.

"The intelligence department mobilized every resource on the Dark Web. We even dug up old records from sixteen years ago."

Golden Crocodile Douluo tapped the edge of the dossier with his knuckle. "Sixteen years ago, this Su Chen was brought into Spirit Hall by a low-ranking elder from the outer city named Zhao Lin, a man whose eyesight was failing. The excuse was that he was 'adopting an orphan.' Zhao Lin's been dead for ten years."

He paused, a trace of chill entering his voice. "Other than that, there's nothing. Who his parents were, where he was born, even records of his Martial Soul Awakening—none of it exists. It's as if he sprang from a rock."

A life history compiled by the full force of the Worship Hall was as clean as a blank sheet of paper.

That alone was the strangest thing of all.

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

He abruptly stepped forward and saluted with cupped fists.

"Great Worship, no record of such a person is proof enough!"

Pei Yuan raised his voice, barely able to contain his excitement. "The Year-End Sacrificial Ceremony is fast approaching. By the rules, everyone in the inner court must have their identity verified."

"We can use the pretext of 'purging an unidentified spy' to force Su Chen to undergo a public Martial Soul examination at the ceremony!"

At those words, several Worships in the chamber turned to look at him in unison.

Pei Yuan puffed out his chest, his lips stretching into a vicious smile. "Isn't Bibi Dong protecting him? If he can't show that he has a high-level Martial Soul, then he's guilty of deceiving the Pope and infiltrating the inner court!"

"Our Enforcement Squad in the Worship Hall can execute him on the spot! It'll be perfectly aboveboard. No one will be able to find fault with it!"

Killing with the rules.

An open scheme.

Forcing a trash with no Soul Power onto a public stage to display his Martial Soul was nothing less than sentencing him to death.

The several Worships exchanged glances, their hearts tightening as they marveled at the ruthless, utterly merciless nature of the scheme.

Qian Daoliu finally opened his eyes.

His cloudy yet keen, hawklike gaze held no praise for Pei Yuan's plan—only bottomless greed and fervor.

His withered fingers tapped the table in a steady rhythm.

His fingertips rested on the Holy Judgment Token, engraved with nine Angel God Patterns.

"Kill a servant?" Qian Daoliu gave a cold laugh, his voice like two rusted iron plates scraping together. "Pei Yuan, your vision is too narrow."

Pei Yuan froze, the smug look on his face vanishing at once.

Qian Daoliu flipped his hand and slammed the Holy Judgment Token onto the table. It landed with a deafening thud.

"In this scheme, Su Chen is only bait."

Qian Daoliu's gaze swept over everyone present, sharp as a blade. "My real aim is to force Bibi Dong to openly protect a nobody with no background in front of the entire upper ranks of Spirit Hall, before every bishop and elder!"

He sprang to his feet, the sacred pressure of a Limit Douluo surging through the chamber.

"If she dares to interfere, if she dares to trample Spirit Hall's ironclad laws for this man, then I'll have every right to bring out this Holy Judgment Token!"

"By then, the charges of abusing her authority and throwing the inner court into chaos will be enough to strip her of her power! I might even be able to depose her as Pope!"

Qian Daoliu laughed aloud, his laughter brimming with an insatiable hunger for power.

Inside the Library Pavilion.

Su Chen leaned back in the bamboo chair as the Eye of Omniscience's Light Screen relayed every word and every fleeting expression from the underground chamber in the sharpest detail.

Qian Daoliu's feverish, triumphant face was especially grating on the screen.

"Depose the Pope? What an appetite." Su Chen lightly tapped the armrest.

Those old dogs in the Worship Hall were cunning schemers.

They were using an open scheme to force the Pope into a corner. Either they killed him to make an example of him or dragged Bibi Dong down from her position. Either way, they profited.

But he didn't feel the slightest panic.

Su Chen slowly raised his left hand.

Beneath the skin on the back of his hand, a faint emerald glow flickered and vanished in the night.

It was the faint reflected light of the World Tree Origin Pattern.

They wanted him to show his Martial Soul? To prove he wasn't trash?

Su Chen chuckled.

The World Tree was a creation-level Martial Soul, transcending every rule of Douluo Continent.

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

"They're practically sticking their faces out for me to slap. If I don't hit them hard, how could I do justice to this system bonus they've delivered right to my door?"

He closed his eyes and began considering how to maximize his gains at the ceremony a few days from now.

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

The air was so stifling it was hard to breathe.

In the middle of the hall, a top-ranking shadow guard dressed in black night clothes knelt rigidly on the tiles, like a piece of deadwood.

"Your Holiness, the Worship Hall has made unusual movements among its outer forces. The Third and Seventh Judgment Squads have been secretly reassigned to the perimeter of the Elder Hall."

The shadow guard spoke rapidly, his voice taut. "Also, this subordinate has confirmed that Pei Yuan, an enforcement elder of the Worship Hall, secretly met with an inner-court ceremony official half an hour ago."

The shadow guard swallowed, cold sweat dripping from his chin.

Though he had not uncovered the core conversation in the underground chamber, these scattered traces were already enough to signal extreme danger.

On the throne, Bibi Dong sat in the shadows.

She said nothing.

But forty years of political instinct, honed in a sea of blood and power, meant that the moment she heard the words "ceremony official," she pieced together the Worship Hall's entire plan.

The Year-End Sacrificial Ceremony. Identity checks. A public examination.

The target was Su Chen.

That old bastard Qian Daoliu wanted to use Spirit Hall's rules to shove Su Chen onto the execution block before a watching crowd.

And, while he was at it, test her limits.

"Boom!"

A tangible, purple-black murderous aura of the Rakshasa God erupted around Bibi Dong!

She crushed deep finger marks into the hard jade armrest of the throne, and the air filled with a nauseating stench of blood and deathly stillness.

The terrifying pressure crashed down on the shadow guard below. As if struck by a sledgehammer, he spat out a huge mouthful of blood with a "wah," his body pressed flat against the floor. His bones creaked under the strain, and terror seized his heart.

"Get out."

Bibi Dong's voice was ice-cold.

The shadow guard felt as if he had been pardoned. Without even wiping the blood from his lips, he scrambled out of the hall and slammed the doors shut.

The vast hall was left with Bibi Dong alone.

Purple-black death energy roiled wildly around her as she rose and strode down the steps.

Reason told her that Qian Daoliu had set a perfect chain of traps.

A servant without even a Soul Ring would be pushed onto the stage at the Sacrificial Ceremony, where dozens of high-ranking bishops and Titled Douluos would scrutinize him. It would be like throwing him straight into a meat grinder.

If she stepped in to protect him, she would face an impeachment by the entire Worship Hall, as well as the Holy Judgment Token hanging over her head.

Her position, years of careful planning, even her life—all would be ruined.

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

But she stopped.

The scene from the night before surfaced uncontrollably in her mind.

In the dim Library Pavilion, Su Chen had held out both hands, cradling that bowl of charred, murky leftovers that reeked of fish.

He had tipped his head back and drained it without hesitation.

When he lowered the bowl, his clear eyes met hers.

"This is the freshest soup I've ever had in my life."

In forty years, he was the only person who had accepted every one of her flaws and clumsiness, and responded with the purest sincerity.

In this cold Spirit Hall, he was the only ray of light to reach her withered soul.

Bibi Dong slowly closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, every trace of hesitation and calculation in her gaze had been crushed beneath the Rakshasa God's distinctive madness and resolve.

What did the Pope's dignity matter? What did Spirit Hall's ironclad laws matter?

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

She raised her right hand and forced a drop of crimson blood from her fingertip.

Fueled by her Soul Power, the blood transformed in midair into an extremely intricate dark-red sigil.

It was a secret Soul Power transmission mark exclusive to the Pope's inner circle, one that could only be used in a matter of life and death.

"Angela, come to the hall at once."

Less than fifteen minutes later.

The hall door opened a crack, and Angela rushed in, drenched in sweat, dropping heavily to one knee.

The pressure in the hall was so low that even breathing felt like a knife in her lungs. Angela didn't even dare look up at Bibi Dong.

Bibi Dong looked down at her from above. Her voice was calm, yet carried a deathly stillness that made one's scalp crawl.

"Angela, listen carefully to every word I say."

Angela shuddered. "This subordinate awaits your orders!"

"Immediately gather your most absolutely loyal subordinates and secretly reopen the ancient tunnel beneath Pope Palace—the one that leads directly to Sunset Forest outside the city."

Angela's pupils contracted sharply.

The ancient tunnel? That was Spirit Hall's last escape route if the city ever fell. The Pope actually wanted it reopened!

"On the day of the Year-End Sacrificial Ceremony." Bibi Dong's gaze pierced through the hall doors, fixed on the empty air. "If the situation gets out of control and the Worship Hall makes its move, don't concern yourself with what happens inside the hall."

"Your only task is to lead the Judgment Death Squad, seize Su Chen from the Library Pavilion, and force him out of Spirit City through the tunnel!"

"At any cost. Even if every one of your people dies, you must get him out!"

Boom!

Those few words were like heavenly thunder, shattering Angela's composure.

Don't concern herself with what happened inside if the situation got out of control?

Evacuate a man?

That order was tantamount to saying that if Qian Daoliu dared to touch Su Chen, Her Holiness the Pope was prepared to abandon all of Spirit City, give up her position as Pope, and even stay behind herself to cover their escape—knowing it would mean certain death!

For a mere servant?!

"Your Holiness! This..." Angela lifted her head abruptly, her lips gone pale.

"This is a military order." Bibi Dong's eyes were like an abyss, cutting off all of Angela's objections. "Carry it out."

"...This subordinate obeys!"