Not Even Worthy of Carrying His Shoes? Tang San's Useless Rage

God Realm.

Asura God Hall.

A nine-story blood-red Asura Treasure Pagoda hovered in the center of the void. The slaughter patterns on the pagoda's body rotated in circles, and with every rotation, the surrounding space distorted by a fraction.

At the top of the pagoda.

The Asura God sat upright on his throne.

His divine sense pierced through the plane barrier, smashing all the way from the God Realm to the sky above Douluo Continent, observing everything happening on the plaza of Martial Soul City with perfect clarity.

The golden Tribulation-Avoiding Garment.

The Three-Legged Golden Toad pattern.

Gathering energy and attracting fortune, resisting heavenly tribulations and divine punishments.

Worn by that woman, it fit perfectly, not rejecting her in the slightest.

The Asura God's right hand rested on the armrest of his throne.

His five fingers curled one by one, then relaxed one by one.

Curled, relaxed. Repeated three times.

The slaughter patterns on the armrest were scratched with white marks by his fingernails.

"That Celestial Master again."

Two words were squeezed out from between his teeth. Each word carried the force of crushing bone.

He was not afraid.

How many tens of thousands of years had the Asura God lived?

How many geniuses and heaven-defying beings had he seen?

Those arrogant fellows had all eventually become dust beneath his feet.

A Celestial Master from the lower realm, no matter how much he struggled, could not escape the palm of his hand.

But it was annoying.

Extremely annoying.

The Primordial Spirit Bead had caused that Demon Fox's Martial Soul Evolution.

It didn't matter; even at the peak of evolution, it was merely a Nine-Tailed Heavenly Fox, still far from being a true god.

The Fate-Suppressing Cauldron had suppressed Tang San's fortune.

A bit troublesome, but Tang San possessed the Sea God inheritance; having his fortune suppressed did not mean his path was severed.

The Severing Thought Sword had severed Tang Hao's arm.

A mere Title Douluo; what difference did it make whether an ant's arm was broken or not?

The Star River Map accelerated cultivation. Irrelevant.

But the fifth item—the Tribulation-Avoiding Garment.

The Asura God's jaw tightened.

This item poked at his plans.

The death he had arranged for Hu Liena was divine punishment lightning tribulation.

Once that woman cultivated to the critical point of becoming a god, he would personally descend the Asura divine punishment to grind her, along with half of Martial Soul Hall's fortune, into ash.

This was a chess move he had set hundreds of years ago—Martial Soul Hall was Tang San's greatest stumbling block, and Hu Liena was the future core of Martial Soul Hall. By cutting her off, the entire game would come alive.

Now, this.

One Tribulation-Avoiding Garment, blocking three-tenths of the divine punishment.

Three-tenths.

Not a lot, but not a little.

The Asura God's fingers tapped twice on the armrest.

The rhythm was very slow: one tap, a pause, then another.

After tapping, he sneered.

The laugh came from his nasal cavity, short and dry.

"Tribulation-Avoiding Garment?"

"Blocking three-tenths?"

"Then This Seat shall give her ten-tenths."

The original divine punishment lightning tribulation, according to the Asura God's plan, would have been enough with a single strike.

If that strike descended, let alone a Demon Fox who hadn't yet become a god, even the first-generation God King would have had a layer of skin peeled off if they stood in the way.

But that was the "original" plan.

Now—raise the stakes.

The Asura God raised his right hand.

Purple-black light spilled from his fingertips, not flowing, but seeping.

It drilled out from beneath his skin in wisps, coiling between his fingers and twisting into a dense orb of light that radiated an aura of destruction.

The Asura Blade shuddered on his lap.

The blood-red patterns on the blade all lit up.

The entire blade, from tip to hilt, hummed in every inch, responding to its master's killing intent.

The purple-black orb of light expanded between his fingers.

From the size of a fist to the size of a watermelon, then to the size of a human head.

With every fraction of expansion, the Asura God Hall trembled.

The entire Nine-Story Pagoda resonated; from the base to the spire, the flow of the slaughter patterns accelerated threefold.

The divine officials standing on either side of the throne retreated half a step in unison.

Their godheads were trembling.

It was not out of fear of the Asura God—they stood guard here every day and were long accustomed to him.

It was because that mass of purple-black divine thunder itself emitted a signal of "extinction," eroding, shredding, and erasing every bit of divine power it touched.

Three times the original plan.

The Asura God held the divine thunder in his palm, studying it for two breaths.

Enough.

At this yield, let alone the Tribulation-Avoiding Garment blocking three-tenths, even if it blocked five-tenths or seven-tenths, the remaining three-tenths would be enough to tear that woman's divine soul into shreds.

He drew the divine thunder into the Asura Blade.

The blade swallowed the purple-black light, the color of its patterns shifting from blood-red to dark purple. It sank into that dark purple for two breaths before slowly returning to its original blood-red.

But the weight of the Asura Blade had changed.

The entire blade was three-tenths heavier, pressing down on his lap, leaving a shallow mark even on the Asura God's divine armor.

Stored.

When that woman reaches the threshold of godhood, this strike—no, this bolt of thunder—will be her funeral.

The Asura God leaned back against his throne.

He closed his eyes, his divine sense piercing through the plane barrier to probe in another direction.

Sea God Island.

Deep within the Sea God Hall.

The stone door of the ninth trial was tightly shut, golden light seeping out through the cracks in wisps.

Behind the door, a shattered divine soul was being repeatedly crushed, repaired, and crushed again by the power of the Sea God.

The Asura God's divine sense passed through the stone door and poured directly into the consciousness of Tang San.

Tang San was sprawled on the altar of the ninth trial.

Most of his Sea God divine armor was shattered, golden armor plates cracked all the way from his shoulders to his wrists.

His mouth was filled with the taste of blood, and blood seeped from his nostrils, dripping onto the stone surface of the altar, only to be instantly evaporated by the Sea God's power.

The needle in his brain was stabbing again.

From his temple to the back of his head, back and forth, without a second of respite.

The cracks in his divine soul had increased from two to five.

Every crack leaked the Sea God's power, and the speed of repair could not keep up with the speed of the leak.

If this continued—

"Tang San."

A pressure descended from the crown of his head.

Tang San's body stiffened violently.

He was all too familiar with this pressure; from the Capital of Slaughter all the way to Sea God Island, the aura of the Asura God had been carved into his bones.

"Lord Asura God."

Tang San braced himself against the edge of the altar and knelt upright. Fragments of golden armor rattled as they fell from his body.

"Your opponent is growing stronger."

The Asura God's transmission had no superfluous embellishments; every word landed like a hammer blow.

"The fifth betrothal gift has already reached that woman's hands. If you drag this out any longer, you won't even be fit to carry her shoes."

Tang San's molars ground together with a clatter.

The fifth one.

The Severing Thought Sword was the third; a single strike severed his father's right arm.

Now, the fifth.

Thirteen more to go.

"Rest assured, Asura God."

Tang San's voice was rasped to the extreme, every word tasting of rust:

"The ninth trial... seven days at most, and I will complete it. I will become the true Sea God."

The Asura God did not respond immediately.

Three breaths passed.

"Very well."

The two words landed like a hammer, carrying a cold, detached approval.

"On the day you ascend to godhood, This Seat shall personally guard you."

He paused for a beat.

"And help you eradicate all obstacles."

Tang San's spine straightened even further.

The Asura God's divine consciousness withdrew from Tang San's mind.

On the throne, he opened his eyes.

The corners of his mouth twitched.

It was not a smile, but the relaxation of a hunter surveying his prey.

The blade that was Tang San had been honed just about enough.

Once he became the Sea God, he would be perfect for testing the mettle of that Celestial Master.

Let two dogs tear at each other while he watched from above.

And the one that survived—he would slaughter with a single strike.

The Asura God's fingers rested upon the Asura Blade across his knees.

Within the blade, triple the equivalent of Purple-Black Divine Thunder lay dormant and silent.