Ancient Forbidden Art! Spirit Snatching Art!

The night was deep, and the wind howling across the wilderness was fierce enough to tear the thick clouds in the sky to shreds.

A cold moon hung high above.

Several black shadows swept through the mountain forest, landing without a sound, like ghosts claiming lives.

The leader was draped in a pure black cloak, his signature golden hair completely hidden from view.

Qian Daoliu.

His eyes, like those of a predator in the night, swept coldly across the wilderness.

Behind him, Pei Yuan followed closely with three core loyalists from the Worship Hall.

The group bypassed all the hidden sentries of Martial Soul City, heading straight for a remote ruin a hundred miles away.

Sixteen years ago, it was from here that Su Chen was brought back to Martial Soul Hall.

An incense stick later, the group stopped in the depths of a deathly silent valley.

Weeds reached waist-height, and everywhere lay collapsed stone pillars and shattered bricks. Under the cold moonlight, these ruins exuded a scent of decay accumulated over the years.

Qian Daoliu threw back his cloak, his golden eyes flashing with a sharp light.

"Search."

His voice was icy, devoid of any unnecessary emotion. "Use the formation. Dig three feet deep; I want every trace left behind by that trash martial soul unearthed."

"Yes!"

Pei Yuan and the three loyalists immediately dispersed, each occupying a corner of the ruins, their hands moving in a blur as they rapidly formed seals.

Deep blue soul power forcibly permeated the gaps between the floor tiles.

One inch, two inches...

Half a cup of tea passed, and sweat appeared on Pei Yuan's forehead, yet he had found nothing.

Gritting his teeth, he pulled a bronze compass engraved with dense, intricate runes from his storage Soul Tool and slammed his palm onto the ground.

"Rise!"

Soul power was forcibly injected into the earth.

Just as the compass needle was about to point toward a coordinate deep within the ruins, a faint yet ancient repulsive force erupted from beneath the ground!

"Hum!"

The repulsive force surged back along the flow of soul power, slamming violently into the compass.

"Crack!"

The surface of the bronze compass shattered on the spot, crumbling into a pile of debris.

Pei Yuan's face turned pale as he staggered backward. Looking at the fragments on the ground, his voice was filled with incredulous frustration: "Great Worship, this place is cursed! Not only is that brat's past a blank slate, but even the ley line aura from sixteen years ago seems to have been directly erased by some high-level law! This is simply unscientific!"

"Useless."

Qian Daoliu let out a cold snort, not even bothering to look at him.

With a flick of his golden robes, Qian Daoliu stepped forward.

"Boom!"

The spiritual power of a Ninety-ninth Level Limit Douluo erupted from his body without reservation.

A brilliant golden divine might instantly enveloped the entire valley.

The surrounding wind ceased, and the air became as heavy as iron.

Pei Yuan and the three loyalists felt as if their chests had been struck by heavy hammers; their breathing stalled instantly, their faces turned deathly pale, and they stared in horror at the god-like figure in the center.

Qian Daoliu ignored the tremors of his subordinates. He closed his eyes, his vast spiritual power transforming into countless invisible golden needles that brutally pierced through the rock layers, driving deep into the underground.

As he combed through the ley lines, his thoughts suddenly drifted to Bibi Dong.

That woman possessed stunning talent.

The Worship Hall had spent thirty years, exhausting all resources and using the most rigorous methods to cultivate and control her, attempting to forge her into the most perfect weapon for Martial Soul Hall.

On Qian Daoliu's chessboard, the Pope could have power and could be decisive in killing, but she could never have personal attachments.

And Su Chen—that variable who possessed no cultivation yet could make Bibi Dong completely lower her guard—had severely touched the reverse scale of the Worship Hall.

"He must be completely crushed."

Killing intent boiled in Qian Daoliu's heart, and the speed of his spiritual probing became increasingly violent.

Three hundred zhang underground.

The spiritual power, which had been sweeping away everything in its path, suddenly stalled.

Qian Daoliu's divine sense touched something tightly wrapped within the rock layers.

It was a faint green glimmer, so weak it was on the verge of extinguishing.

This was a wisp of origin energy that had overflowed when Su Chen awakened sixteen years ago; despite the erosion of time, it still existed.

Qian Daoliu's spiritual power moved closer, attempting to peel it away.

In an instant.

A complex, ancient array pattern ignited on the surface of the green radiance. A holy repulsive force, far exceeding the purity of the Angel Martial Soul, erupted with a boom!

"Hum!"

This power surged back along the mental energy, striking like a hammer.

"Bang!"

A thunderous roar echoed within the mind of Qian Daoliu.

He let out a muffled grunt as his feet were forced backward half a step against his will. Two deep furrows were gouged into the ground by his heels.

The air froze instantly.

Pei Yuan and the others nearly had their eyes pop out of their sockets.

One of the three current Limit Douluo, the strongest powerhouse of Martial Soul Hall, had actually been forced back half a step by the residual aura of a ruin?!

Qian Daoliu ignored the shock of his subordinates. He steadied his stance, his anger replaced by laughter. His withered lips curled back, revealing a look of extreme fanaticism.

"As expected..."

Qian Daoliu stared fixedly at the ruins beneath his feet, the greedy light in his eyes overriding all reason. "The ancient records are true. This absolute repulsion capable of repelling the divine might of an Angel... this is the origin of the Tree of Creation!"

Su Chen was no mere waste.

He was a living treasure vault containing supreme divine power! As long as he could be held in his grasp, breaking the shackles of a Limit Douluo and touching that ethereal divine realm would be within reach!

"Since the source has been found, do not blame this old man for being ruthless."

Qian Daoliu's expression turned utterly cold. He flipped his right hand, summoning an ancient parchment scroll that exuded a decaying, black aura.

The moment it was exposed, the already chilly environment plummeted to freezing.

Qian Daoliu bit his fingertip, using the essence blood of a Limit Douluo as a catalyst to rapidly trace twisted, blood-red runes onto the surface of the parchment.

An ancient forbidden technique—the Spirit Snatching Art.

This was a sinister technique sealed away in the deepest vault of the Worship Hall, created specifically to forcibly extract the martial soul origins of others and seize divine objects.

It was his ultimate trump card, studied in secret for years, intended to reclaim his absolute rule.

The parchment shattered with a roar.

A heart-stopping sound of clanking chains echoed through the void. Countless black chains, woven from pure malice and extreme soul power, shot out like vipers from their den, plunging deep into the earth!

Soil flew and rock layers shattered.

The black chains wrapped around the green radiance with savage force, dragging it out!

"Hiss."

A teeth-grinding friction sound rang out.

The green radiance, no larger than a fingernail, was dragged to the surface. Even tightly bound by the black chains, it continued to emit a vast divinity that made one's soul tremble.

Qian Daoliu moved with lightning speed, producing a specially crafted crystal bottle.

The black chains whipped, slamming the green radiance violently into the bottle. Qian Daoliu capped it and pressed a golden seal firmly onto the top.

Inside the crystal bottle, the green radiance collided frantically, emitting a crisp "clinking" sound.

Outside the bottle, the black mist of the forbidden technique continued to churn.

The holy origin and the sinister forbidden technique formed an incredibly bizarre contrast in Qian Daoliu's hands. This scene shattered the psychological defenses of Pei Yuan and the others.

"Thump."

"Thump."

Pei Yuan took the lead, and the four Worshipers knelt on the ground, cold sweat pouring down their bodies, not daring to even lift their heads.

Qian Daoliu gripped the crystal bottle tightly, feeling the violent tremors and warmth emanating from his palm. His withered cheeks twitched frantically, pulling into a cold, fanatical laugh.

"Hahahaha!"

The laughter echoed over the desolate ruins.

Pei Yuan knelt on the ground, listening to the wild laughter, the fear in his eyes gradually replaced by fanaticism. He led the kowtowing, his voice filled with ecstasy: "Congratulations to the Great Worship for mastering this ultimate trump card! By stripping that waste of his divine object, Martial Soul Hall will surely rule the world under your leadership!"

The remaining three loyalists followed suit, kowtowing frantically.

The Great Worship had mastered a forbidden technique capable of extracting Su Chen's origin; the protection offered by Bibi Dong and Qian Renxue would ultimately become a complete joke.

Qian Daoliu's laughter ceased. He tucked the crystal bottle close to his body, turned, and gazed into the distance toward the direction of Martial Soul City, hundreds of miles away.

The cold wind whipped his black cloak, making it snap loudly.

A cruel arc formed on Qian Daoliu's lips.

The absolute control of Martial Soul Hall, and this supreme power that stood above the secular world.

He would take it all back.