Tang Ya Was Actually Tang San's Descendant?

"Hm?" Zichuan did not immediately understand what this had to do with the God of Destruction's excitement.

"Idiot!" the God of Destruction sneered.

"Ten thousand years ago, Tang San's father was Tang Hao, the Clear Sky Douluo, and his mother was a hundred-thousand-year Blue Silver Emperor! What he inherited were the Twin Martial Souls of the Clear Sky Hammer and the Blue Silver Emperor!

Later, he became a god. His daughter, Tang Wutong, inherited the Light Goddess Butterfly and the Clear Sky Hammer, but not the Blue Silver Grass. But think about it—with that hypocrite Tang San's personality and his 'devoted lover' image, could he really have behaved himself before ascending to the God Realm? Wouldn't he have left something behind on Douluo Continent... hm, a souvenir?"

Zichuan froze, then sucked in a sharp breath. He instantly understood what the God of Destruction meant. "You mean... Tang Ya might be Tang San's descendant?!"

"What else?" The God of Destruction's voice brimmed with the delight of malicious speculation.

"Her surname is Tang, her martial soul is Blue Silver Grass, yet it isn't the Clear Sky Hammer! What are the odds? And look at the Tang Sect. After ten thousand years of inheritance, it just kept getting worse.

By the time it reached this little girl, it was practically extinct. Yet it never truly died out, always hanging on by a thread of luck... Doesn't that look like someone secretly pulling strings, but not daring to make it too obvious for fear of being discovered by someone at home?"

The more he spoke, the more reasonable his theory seemed to him, and his tone grew even more disdainful.

"'One couple for life' with Xiao Wu, willing to do anything to revive her... Hah, who was he trying to fool? For all we know, he had already spread his seed in some forgotten corner of the world! Tang Ya might very well be his illegitimate bloodline in the mortal realm! How else could you explain this Blue Silver Grass inheritance?"

Listening to the God of Destruction's wildly imaginative conspiracy theory, Zichuan did not know how to refute him for a moment.

Come to think of it, Tang Ya's background had always been rather vague in the original story, and the Tang Sect's decline was full of strange inconsistencies.

If she really was blood Tang San had left behind, but for some reason—perhaps because he feared Xiao Wu finding out? Or because of the God Realm's rules?

He did not dare openly protect them, so he could only let them fend for themselves. Perhaps they had even suffered countless disasters because they were tainted by his karma... This plot really did seem rather melodramatic, yet strangely compelling.

Still, now was clearly not the time to investigate Tang San's romantic history.

The battle in the clearing had reached its final stage.

The barrier formed by the old woman's desperate fourth soul skill shattered under the concentrated assault of the Iron Blood Sect.

The last two Tang Sect disciples died on the spot. The old woman herself was badly wounded, coughing up blood as she collapsed to the ground, her breath as faint as a candle flame in the wind.

"Grandma!!"

Tang Ya let out a heart-wrenching cry and threw herself to the old woman's side. Her small body shook violently with fear and grief, yet in those tear-filled eyes, beyond despair, was a heartbreaking stubbornness and hatred like that of a lone wolf.

She glared fixedly at the approaching Iron Blood Sect members, especially Tie Bi, the Soul Ancestor leader carrying a Ghost Head Blade with a lecherous expression. Her little hand clenched the useless sleeve arrow so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"Little girl, out of options now, aren't you?"

Tie Bi strolled closer, his gaze roaming over Tang Ya's still childish face, though her features already hinted at future beauty. He stuck out his tongue and licked his lips.

"Wouldn't it have been better if you'd done this from the start? Why make these old fools die for nothing? Come with Uncle, and from now on..."

Before he could finish his filthy words, the corner of his eye caught sight of a little boy standing beneath a large tree not far behind Tang Ya.

The boy looked only six or seven years old, with black hair and black eyes. He wore ordinary coarse clothes, and his little face held no expression as he quietly watched the scene. His mouth seemed to be chewing something.

He had appeared so abruptly, yet so naturally, as if he had been there all along and simply gone unnoticed.

Tie Bi frowned. A strange feeling flashed through his heart, but it was quickly replaced by impatience. He was just some wild brat who had come from who knew where, probably from a nearby village and scared senseless by the fighting.

"Where did this little brat come from?" Tie Bi barked, waving his blood-dripping Ghost Head Blade. "Get lost! Go home and drink your mother's milk! Don't get in the way!"

The other Iron Blood Sect disciples noticed Zichuan as well, but none of them took him seriously. What threat could such a tiny child pose? He had probably wandered in by mistake.

Tang Ya heard the shout too and turned around through tear-blurred eyes. When she saw Zichuan, she first froze, clearly not expecting to find a child in a place like this.

Then a trace of pity and urgency flashed through her eyes. Summoning all her strength, she cried, "Kid! Run! Get out of here! Hurry!"

She was trapped in a hopeless situation herself, yet she still thought to warn a stranger to flee for his life. That kindness made something stir faintly in Zichuan's heart.

Yet Zichuan seemed not to have heard either Tie Bi's rebuke or Tang Ya's cry.

He tilted his head, calmly sweeping his gaze over the remaining Iron Blood Sect members as he counted softly, "One, two, three... nine, ten. Hm, ten. One Soul Ancestor. Just right."

His voice was quiet, but it was perfectly clear to the soul masters' ears.

"Just right? What's just right?" Tie Bi was taken aback, unable to understand what the child was muttering about.

Zichuan did not answer. He merely sighed softly, as though he had confirmed some trivial matter, then lifted his foot and walked unhurriedly toward Tang Ya and Tie Bi.

"Brat, are you looking to die?!" Seeing that the child not only failed to run but actually walked over, a vicious glint flashed across Tie Bi's face.

He did not think a child could do anything, but being ignored so completely still irritated him. He decided to casually swat this death-seeking brat away first, then deal with Tang Ya.

However, before he could make a move, Zichuan had already reached Tang Ya's side. He even shifted half a step to the side naturally, placing Tang Ya, who was trembling in terror yet stubbornly standing before the old woman, slightly behind himself.

The gesture was casual, yet it stunned both Tang Ya and Tie Bi.

"You..." Tang Ya looked up at this boy, who was half a head shorter than her and whose back appeared somewhat thin. She opened her mouth but did not know what to say.

She only felt that this boy, who had appeared out of nowhere, possessed an indescribable calmness that seemed utterly out of place amid the bloody and tragic surroundings.

Tie Bi, meanwhile, laughed in fury.

"Ha! You little bastard, trying to play the hero and save the beauty? Has your hair even grown in yet?"

He could not be bothered to waste any more words. A fierce light flashed in his eyes, his third Soul Ring lit up, and the Ghost Head Blade glowed a sickly green as it swept down with a sharp blade wind toward Zichuan's head!

He did not use his full strength. Using his third soul skill against a child was already more than generous.

Faced with a strike powerful enough to severely wound an ordinary Soul Grandmaster, Zichuan's face remained expressionless. He did not even look at the descending blade. He simply raised his right hand casually.

He clenched it into a fist.

Then he threw a punch directly at the green-glowing blade.

There was no glow of Soul Power, no Soul Ring appearing—just the purest, simplest punch.

"Clang—!!!"

The explosive crash of metal against metal stabbed painfully into everyone's eardrums!

The scene they had expected—of the child being sent flying, bones shattered and tendons torn—did not appear.