The blood in the square hadn't even dried.
But Spirit City had already erupted.
The news began spreading from the square in front of Pope Palace—
First came the night patrols, then the residents in the south of the city who had been jolted awake, followed by the barracks, the markets, the academies, and the taverns.
Within a single night, it had spread down every street and alley in the city.
"Tang San launched a night raid on Spirit City and was routed! Her Highness the Saintess severed Clear Sky Douluo's right arm with a single sword strike!"
"Over thirty Tang Sect elites fled in disarray!"
"The Shrek Seven Devils ran out through the east gate with their tails between their legs!"
After daybreak, before the biggest teahouse in the south of the city had even opened, a long line had already formed outside.
They hadn't come for tea. They'd come to find out the details.
The shopkeeper was propping open the door panels when a crowd closed in around him three deep. Before he could even open his mouth, questions flooded over him from every direction.
The street vendors had stopped selling their wares and gathered in a crowd, spittle flying as they argued.
The blacksmith's apprentice rushed out, carrying an iron billet that hadn't even been quenched yet.
"Is it true? Clear Sky Douluo? He's the strongest in the world!"
The auntie selling steamed buns nearby rolled her eyes.
"That 'strongest in the world' business is old news. Now he's lost both arms, so much for being number one."
"Hey! It was Her Highness the Saintess who cut it off! Half a month ago, she was only level sixty-nine. Now she's taken the arm of a Titled Douluo with one sword strike. What kind of divine speed is that?"
"You don't know? The Celestial Master Betrothal Gift! That Severing Thought Sword was the third gift!"
"Celestial Master."
At those two words, everyone fell quiet for a moment.
Then the noise swelled even louder, and the crowd grew more animated. The talk veered away from the battle itself and turned to the marriage contract that had shaken the continent.
No one doubted anymore that the man called Shen Yichen had been putting on an act.
Three betrothal gifts, three celestial phenomena.
The final gift had severed Clear Sky Douluo's arm right there on the battlefield.
What was there left to doubt?
Pope Palace, main hall.
Thirty-six tables had been set for the victory banquet.
It was the grandest internal banquet the Spirit Hall had held in nearly twenty years.
The entire Elder Hall had turned out. The masters of the various branch halls had rushed in overnight, while a thousand elite troops directly under Pope Palace stood in formation along both sides of the corridors.
Bibi Dong sat in the seat of honor. She had changed into a brand-new papal robe, dark purple embroidered with gold, its weight seeming to dim the light in the hall.
Her right hand was no longer wrapped in medicinal bandages, but faint traces of black markings still showed between her fingers in the candlelight.
Hu Liena sat in the first seat to her left.
In the past, only the Great Enshrined had been allowed to sit there.
Some people in the hall noticed and exchanged furtive glances. No one said a word.
Xie Yue hadn't come—he had three broken ribs and two cracks in his breastbone. The military doctor said he'd need to stay in bed for at least half a month.
Hu Liena had gone to see him. He'd been propped up against the headboard, looking pale as a sheet, and said, "Don't bring me soup. Bring meat." Then he'd rolled over and gone back to sleep.
As long as he was alive, that was enough.
When Bibi Dong raised her wine cup, everyone in the hall stopped moving at once.
She didn't stand. She remained seated as the amber liquid in her cup swayed twice, candlelight dancing across its surface.
"Last night's battle."
The four words fell. You could hear a pin drop.
"Tang San led the Shrek Seven Devils and Tang Sect elites in a night raid on our Spirit City, intending to destroy our Saintess's treasure. They were defeated on the spot."
She paused.
"Clear Sky Douluo Tang Hao used Ring Detonation to force his way into the battle. Her Highness the Saintess severed his arm with a single strike of the Severing Thought Sword."
Someone in the hall drew in a sharp breath.
Even though the news had spread the night before, hearing it from the Pope herself carried an entirely different impact.
Bibi Dong's gaze settled on Hu Liena.
"Hu Liena."
Hu Liena set down her chopsticks and rose.
"Half a month ago, you were a level-sixty-nine Soul Saint. Today, with the cultivation of an eighty-fourth-level Soul Saint, you stood against Tang San head-on and severed Clear Sky Douluo's arm with the Severing Thought Sword, protecting everyone in Spirit Hall."
Bibi Dong raised her cup.
"The entire Spirit Hall salutes you."
All thirty-six tables rose at once.
Wine cups lifted high, and hundreds of clinks merged into a single sound.
"To Her Highness the Saintess!"
The shout surged out of the hall, swept through the corridors, and reached the ears of the thousand elite troops standing outside. Immediately, an even louder chorus erupted beyond the doors.
"To Her Highness the Saintess!"
Hu Liena stood where she was, holding her wine cup at chest height.
The wound on her left shoulder had been treated, but raising her arm too high still tugged at it painfully. A thin strip of medicinal plaster covered most of the cut on her cheek.
She drained the wine in one go.
It was sharp and fiery, rushing up her nose until the tip turned sore.
As she lowered the cup, her gaze swept over the hundreds of faces in the hall.
There was admiration, awe, and fervor—and then there was the meaningful look Bibi Dong cast her way.
Hu Liena lowered her eyes.
All this glory.
All these eyes on her.
None of it had been earned through her own ability.
The bloodline awakening granted by the Primordial Spirit Bead, the solid foundation given by the Fate-Suppressing Cauldron, the sword that severed an arm—the power of the Severing Thought Sword—
Strip those three things away, and she was still the Soul Saint stuck at level sixty-nine, unable to take even half a step forward.
But she wouldn't say it.
He had given these things to her. She had accepted them. That made them hers.
Three days later.
Heaven Dou Empire, front-line command post.
The commander's tent was dead silent.
More than a dozen generals stood around the sand table. Not one of them spoke.
The sand table showed the troop deployments at Jialing Pass, where red and blue flags stood intermingled. The blue flags represented the Heaven Dou Alliance. At that moment, they looked especially sparse.
The marshal sat at the innermost end of the tent, clutching a confidential report so tightly his knuckles had turned pale.
The report read: Tang Hao had lost both arms and suffered a severe drop in cultivation. He would be unable to fight in the short term. Tang San had been wounded, his Sea God Inheritance delayed, and the date of his return was unknown.
Those two were the Heaven Dou Alliance's greatest trump cards in the Battle of Jialing Pass.
The marshal slapped the report down on the table.
"Put the reinforcement plan on hold."
"Marshal—"
"On hold."
There was no room for discussion.
The generals in the tent exchanged glances, their throats bobbing.
Reinforcements were on hold.
That meant the troops currently at Jialing Pass would have to withstand a possible attack from the Spirit Hall Empire on their own.
And the woman who had severed Clear Sky Douluo's arm with a single sword now stood in Spirit Hall, with three heaven-defying treasures and an unfathomable Celestial Master at her back.
There was no longer any need to call morale "low."
At the front-line camp, the stories passing among the soldiers were ten times more exaggerated than the confidential report.
Some said that Celestial Master could wipe out a city with a wave of his hand. Others said that the Saintess of Spirit Hall was already a God King.
Rumors killed more surely than the truth.
Sea God Island.
Inside the Medicine Hut, the heavy smell of medicinal herbs seemed almost solid.
Tang Hao lay on the bed.
Both his arms were wrapped in thick layers of medicinal bandages, from shoulder to fingertips.
His right arm—the one severed by the Severing Thought Sword—had been barely reattached after three days and three nights of surgery.
But the Dao Qi lingering inside the bone could not be eliminated.
Seventy percent of the meridians had been reconnected. The remaining thirty percent had been corroded by Dao resonance and were already dead.
The military doctor's exact words had been:
"His arm is saved, but the Soul Power output of this limb will never exceed forty percent of its peak for the rest of his life."
Forty percent.
For a Titled Douluo, forty percent meant he was crippled.
Tang San sat on a low stool beside the bed, watching his weakened father, and made a desperate decision:
"Speed up the Eighth Sea God Trial and the Ninth Trial, no matter the cost."
"Become the true Sea God as soon as possible!"
Before you continue