Setting Out

Luo Dong leaned against the carriage window, lifting a corner of the curtain. His small face pressed against the frame as he watched the scenery fly by, occasionally turning back to shout at Bibi Dong, "Look, Mother! That leaf looks just like a little fish!"

Bibi Dong reclined in the carriage, watching him with a smile. She would occasionally look in the direction his tiny finger pointed and offer a response.

The mother and son chatted and laughed.

As the carriage rolled out of Martial Soul City, a slender figure swept silently over the top of the city gate.

It was none other than Chrysanthemum Douluo, Yue Guan.

He suppressed his aura, his gaze locked onto the carriage as it gradually moved further away along the main road.

Qian Xunji's voice still echoed in his ears—"Follow Bibi Dong and see what she is hiding. Report any abnormalities immediately."

As the Pope's most trusted confidant, Yue Guan was well-versed in such missions.

Tracking a woman who had yet to reach the level of a Titled Douluo was, in his eyes, merely a formality—a simple task.

However, Bibi Dong, inside the carriage, had already discovered his trail.

Her spiritual power, bolstered by a year of cultivation and numerous system rewards, had reached a level far exceeding her current rank.

Chrysanthemum Douluo's supposedly flawless stealth was nowhere to hide from her perception.

But she did not expose him, choosing instead to lean against the carriage cushions and continue teasing Luo Dong.

She had other plans for keeping Chrysanthemum Douluo around.

Throughout the rest of the journey, Bibi Dong was in no rush.

She deliberately slowed their pace, stopping whenever they encountered beautiful scenery to let Luo Dong look, and taking him to browse the markets of bustling towns to buy novel snacks and toys.

Luo Dong sat in her arms, dancing with excitement.

He made Bibi Dong laugh from time to time, her chest heaving with mirth.

Later, they stopped at a fun little stall.

Bibi Dong did not urge him on, letting him look to his heart's content before buying him a dough figurine shaped like a little tiger.

Yun Che clutched the little tiger in his hand, unable to put it down.

Watching this scene from the shadows, Yue Guan's suspicions began to fade.

How could this possibly look like someone hiding a massive secret?

She was clearly just an ordinary woman taking her child out for a stroll.

Perhaps the Pope was being overly cautious.

Bibi Dong had not stepped out of her home for a year; her strength might have indeed improved, but it was highly likely that His Holiness the Pope was being too vigilant.

As for Bibi Dong and Luo Dong, they played until they were satisfied before moving on, only to stop again to play after traveling a short distance.

They traveled in such fits and starts.

Several days later, the carriage finally arrived at their destination.

A stretch of wilderness north of the Star Dou Forest.

The carriage stopped on the leeward side of a ridge. Leaving the maid to guard the vehicle, Bibi Dong carried Luo Dong out and proceeded on foot.

This wilderness was completely different from the Martial Soul City she knew.

The sky hung low, with lead-gray clouds so thick they felt as if they might collapse at any moment.

Looking out, rolling hills stretched into the distance, withered yellow grass flattened by the autumn wind, and scattered, gnarled trees stood in clusters, their twisted branches reaching toward the sky like the arms of someone struggling in their death throes.

The air was filled with a faint, putrid stench—the smell of corpses.

According to intelligence from Martial Soul Hall, the three evil soul masters had committed their last crime seven days ago, victimizing a caravan belonging to a mid-sized soul master family.

Except for one child who had hidden in a cellar, all thirty-two people had been killed.

The intelligence indicated that these three were now hiding in this wilderness, using an abandoned mine as their base.

Bibi Dong stood on the ridge, the mountain wind whipping her long hair and purple robes.

Luo Dong in her arms grew quiet, his small face pressed against her chest, revealing only eyes like Black Grapes as he scanned the surroundings vigilantly.

Although he was only one year old.

The soul of a transmigrator made him clearer on the situation than any other child his age.

He did not cry or fuss, clutching Bibi Dong's lapel tightly with one hand so as not to cause trouble for his mother.

Bibi Dong's spiritual power spread out like a tide, instantly covering a radius of several miles.

In a hidden hollow below the ridge, she sensed three powerful fluctuations of soul power.

She found them quickly.

Bibi Dong carried Luo Dong, her footsteps light and steady as she walked toward the hollow.

Deep within the hollow, a dilapidated mine was built against the mountain.

The entrance to the mine was half-hidden by weeds and rubble, and in the clearing at the center of the site, three figures in black robes sat huddled around a campfire.

An iron pot was perched over the flames, filled with the meat of some unknown beast; the broth bubbled, emitting a thick, pungent, and gamey stench.

"Another fat sheep has arrived."

The leader of the three spoke slowly.

His voice was dry and raspy, sounding like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing against each other.

His black hood was pulled low, revealing only the lower half of his face.

His skin was a sickly gray, his lips were blackened, and a hideous scar stretched from the corner of his mouth all the way to his ear.

His eyes glowed with a faint, ghostly green light from within the shadows of his hood, like two flickering will-o'-the-wisps.

"How many?" asked the man sitting opposite him.

This man's physique was bizarre; his shoulders were incredibly broad, and his arms were disproportionately long, hanging down until they nearly touched the ground.

His face was covered in dark red vascular patterns that pulsed with a faint light, as if magma were flowing beneath his skin.

"One," the leader said slowly, his voice laced with a hint of confusion that quickly shifted into amusement. "A woman, carrying an Infant in her arms. She is walking toward us right now."

"A woman and an Infant?" The man sitting to the side let out a raspy, strange laugh.

His frame was as thin as a skeleton, and his ten fingers were adorned with bone rings of various shapes, each exuding a different, chilling aura.

He licked his cracked lips, revealing a mouthful of sharp, needle-like teeth. "Now that is a novelty. Usually, those Spirit Master families are scrambling to crawl away the moment they see us, yet here someone is, delivering themselves to our doorstep."

"She is from Martial Soul Hall," the leader added.

The area around the campfire fell silent for a moment.

Then, all three of them laughed.

"Martial Soul Hall?" The broad-shouldered man slowly stood up, stretching his thick, long arms, his joints popping with a crisp, rhythmic sound. "Isn't Martial Soul Hall busy chasing that fat sheep Tang Hao lately? Why would they have the spare time to send someone to cause us trouble?

But then again, the number of Spirit Masters from Martial Soul Hall who have died at our hands over the years is not small; adding one more will just round out the tally."

"Blood Butcher, don't be careless," the leader said in a deep voice.

He raised his hand and pushed back his hood, revealing his entire face.

His features were as withered as a skull, his eye sockets deeply sunken, and his pupils were a strange, dark red, like two pools of congealed blood.

Most striking of all was the center of his forehead—there was a vertical black fissure there, within which a dark red light pulsed, resembling a half-open third eye.

"I have heard of this woman. She is Bibi Dong, the Saintess of Martial Soul Hall, and her talent is no less than that of Tang Hao. Although it is said she is not favored by the Pope, her strength is certainly not to be underestimated among Spirit Douluos."