Holy Son

High above the platform, Rakshasa Death Qi and Angel Golden Light engaged in a frantic, lethal struggle.

The spatial rifts torn open by the extreme soul power emitted a piercing, grating sound, becoming the only background noise for the entire scene.

Below the stage, dozens of Cardinals squeezed their eyes shut, gritting their teeth as they waited for the critical moment when the Pope would fully commit apostasy and a bloody war would erupt within Martial Soul Hall.

It happened in that very heartbeat.

In the deathly silence, Bibi Dong released her grip on the throne's armrests, leaving ten deep indentations; her fingertips were so pale they lacked a trace of blood.

There was no desperate command to open the secret passage.

In the next second, the monstrous purple-black tide was forcibly reversed by her, dragged back into her body by sheer force of will!

The soul power storm across the entire plaza vanished.

The crushing pressure of death that had weighed upon thousands of heads suddenly dissipated.

"Haa... haa..."

On the plaza, ragged, heavy breathing rose and fell in waves.

Knights in the front row felt their legs give way, collapsing directly onto the ground, sweat dripping in heavy beads that instantly soaked their uniforms.

The Cardinals also raised their sleeves, frantically wiping the cold sweat from their foreheads.

Opposite the main seat, the corners of Qian Daoliu's eyes twitched; he didn't even bother to hide the disappointment in his gaze.

He had failed to push her to the point of total loss of control.

Qian Daoliu raised his right arm, his withered palm holding up the Holy Judgment Token, and brilliant golden light once again enveloped the platform, bearing down on the throne.

"You've stopped?" He pressed forward step by step, his voice cold with the weight of supreme law. "Then obey the iron rule. Pope, explain yourself immediately! Why did you set up a forbidden zone in private and hide a servant with zero soul power? What exactly are you trying to do!"

All eyes were upon her.

Bibi Dong slowly stood up from the throne, tidying her slightly disheveled crown robes with unhurried grace.

Her phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze sweeping over the sea of people below before finally resting on Qian Daoliu's aged face.

"A servant?"

Bibi Dong let out a cold snort, offering neither explanation nor defense.

Her cold, clear voice, wrapped in soul power, exploded into every corner of the plaza.

"Qian Daoliu, you can withdraw your intelligence network."

She paused for half a second, then spat out eight words.

"Su Chen is this Seat's personally appointed candidate for Holy Son."

Boom!

These eight words were like a thunderclap, exploding over everyone's heads.

The thousands of people below the steps froze on the spot, their breathing coming to a complete halt.

After a second of deathly silence, an uncontrollable uproar and the sound of sharp gasps erupted, the wave of noise so loud it threatened to topple the banners of the plaza.

Holy Son!

That was a terrifying position second only to the Pope and the Young Master, holding command over the two great Knight Orders!

Once established, the entire power map of Martial Soul Hall would be shaken to its foundations!

"Bullshit!"

A thunderous roar came from the left of the main seat as the Second Worship, Golden Crocodile Douluo, shattered the floor tiles with a single stomp and surged up on the spot.

The Law Enforcement Elder, Pei Yuan, jumped out after him, pointing at the throne and cursing wildly.

"Your Holiness the Pope, do you take us for blind fools!" Pei Yuan unleashed his full soul power, his voice bellowing across the plaza. "Su Chen's file for the last sixteen years is crystal clear—he's a piece of trash who doesn't even have a ten-year soul ring!"

Emboldened, Pei Yuan looked up and lashed out: "To satisfy your own selfish desires, you shield a wild man and dare to fabricate a decree to name him Holy Son in front of everyone? You are treating us like idiots!"

A flash of killing intent crossed Bibi Dong's eyes. The Rakshasa pressure surged directly toward Pei Yuan, forcing him to retreat three steps as the taste of blood welled up in his throat.

"Inner Court files? That scrap paper is worthy of measuring this Seat's people?"

Bibi Dong looked down from her height, invoking the ancient history of the Hall to suppress the entire crowd: "A thousand years ago, Martial Soul Hall established a top-secret tradition to restart the special Holy Son selection only on the eve of an epic war. Great Worship, have you grown senile?"

She flicked her sleeve, her voice so righteous that it left no room for doubt.

"Su Chen possesses a one-in-a-million special constitution. I placed him in the Library Pavilion and sealed off the area precisely to avoid the noise from you lot in the Worship Hall!"

"A Holy Son who concerns the future of the sect must naturally be cultivated in absolute secrecy by me, the Pope, personally!"

Once these words were spoken, the crowd exploded.

Among the camp of Cardinals, several veteran Cardinal Bishops immediately wore expressions of "so that's how it is," nodding frantically.

With one move, she had brought the logic to life!

Delivering food in the middle of the night? That was to replenish the energy for his special constitution!

Shutting the doors to be alone? That was the Pope passing on secret techniques!

Ignoring warnings and crushing the Elder Token? That was to ensure the Holy Son remained undisturbed by the outside world!

All the previously abnormal and seemingly "possessive" actions now had the most legitimate and noble justification.

The Pope was truly pouring her heart and blood into the future of Martial Soul Hall!

The suspicion on the bishops' faces instantly faded, replaced by admiration for the Pope's far-sightedness.

The two heavy labels of "harboring a traitor" and "hiding a male pet" slapped on by the Worship Hall had their foundations instantly hollowed out.

This attempt at a palace coup had been forcefully blocked.

Qian Daoliu listened to the shifting winds among the crowd below, his aged face turning ashen.

The lethal trap of force he had meticulously laid had been dismantled by a set of political jargon from Bibi Dong.

"Good, what a sharp tongue." Qian Daoliu laughed in extreme anger.

He couldn't be bothered with further pleasantries; his Limit Douluo soul power erupted in full, the golden light of the Holy Judgment Token surged, and the divine might of the Angel forced the knees of every soul master in the arena to go weak.

"Since it is a special constitution, it cannot be decided by your word alone." Qian Daoliu raised the token, issuing an ultimatum, "This old man demands that this person be brought to the main hall immediately! Verify his true identity in front of all the high-ranking officials of the Hall!"

He locked his gaze onto Bibi Dong: "If no special constitution is verified, this old man and the Worship Hall will never accept this!"

The golden light shone on Bibi Dong's face, leaving it icy cold.

She did not retreat in the slightest, coldly and arrogantly meeting his gaze: "Does this Seat need to explain her actions to you?"

Her domineering aura held firm against the divine light, but under the iron law of the Holy Judgment Token, she took the opportunity to step down from the impasse.

Bibi Dong's red lips parted slightly, and a soul power transmission was sent out with precision.

"Angela, go to the Library Pavilion and bring him to the arena."

Half a cup of tea later.

Steady footsteps echoed from the white jade stairs at the end of the plaza.

Angela kept one hand on her sword, leading sixteen elite knights in two rows as they advanced steadily.

In the center of the formation, Su Chen wore a coarse, washed-out servant's tunic as he climbed the stairs.

He had no decorations on his body, not a shred of soul power fluctuation, yet his pace was so precise it was almost pathological.

The moment he stepped into the plaza, thousands of shocked, scrutinizing, and malicious gazes pinned him to the spot like searchlights.

Is this that man?

Is this the so-called special Saint Son?

Too ordinary.

Su Chen stopped in the center of the red carpet, eyes slightly lowered, taking in all the malice of the crowd. Last night, he had used retreat as a means to advance, forcing Bibi Dong to reveal her political prowess; now, the real stage was set.

On the left side of the high platform, Qian Daoliu stood with his hands behind his back, his eyes filled with undisguised mockery.

The situation was settled; as soon as his soul was searched, this mortal shell would reveal its true form before everyone.

"Is this your Saint Son candidate?" Qian Daoliu ordered sternly, his voice laced with killing intent as it bore down on Su Chen, "Get on the stage! Show your martial soul immediately! If there is nothing unusual, today will be your burial ground!"

At the exact same second, as the atmosphere turned deadly.

On the right side of the high platform, in the position of the Young Master.

Qian Renxue, who had been sitting upright, suddenly tensed, her spine stiffening.

From the moment Su Chen entered the arena, her gaze had been glued to him.

The abyssal aura from last night and the dirt-covered servant's skin before her felt like a jarring, impossible disconnect.

Suddenly.

Deep within her Sea of Divine Consciousness, the dormant system emitted a piercing alarm!

[Ding!]

The mechanical voice exploded in her mind.

[Special Task Generated: Social Death Bond!]

[Task Requirement: Immediately walk down from the high platform and head toward the target, Su Chen. In front of thousands of people in the Hall, interlock fingers with him and hold hands forcibly for one minute!]

[Task Countdown: 60 seconds!]

[Failure Condition: If the countdown reaches zero, your divine soul will be erased immediately!]

A scarlet panel forcibly popped up, the blood-red light stinging her retinas with a burning pain.

Qian Renxue's breathing stalled, her heart giving a violent jolt.

System, are you insane?!

Walk down in public? In front of all the high-ranking officials of Martial Soul Hall, in front of that group of predatory elders from the Worship Hall, in front of that possessive, mad-for-her-own-interests Pope mother...

To hold the hand of a servant?!

Qian Renxue dug her fingernails into the fabric of her thighs, her knuckles turning deathly white.

The countdown for the erasure warning was already ticking away lethally on her retinas.

[59]

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