Heroic and Spirited Ye Guyi

Martial Soul City, towering and magnificent.

Looking from afar, the high walls seemed to connect with the horizon, built from unknown milky-white boulders that radiated a warm, solemn halo under the sunlight.

At the city gate, the crowd flowed like a loom; the hawking of vendors and the laughter of pedestrians merged into a clamorous torrent.

Chen Doudou sat on the back of the Pegasus, curiously observing the scene below.

Compared to the commoners of Qingfeng City, the residents near Martial Soul City clearly possessed a completely different spirit and vitality.

The people here lacked the numbness and fear usually seen when facing spirit masters, appearing more composed and neatly dressed; many ordinary citizens even wore the Martial Soul Hall emblem on their chests as a symbol of their status.

"It seems Martial Soul Hall governs quite well."

Chen Doudou remarked.

"That is only natural."

Bibi Dong's tone carried a hint of pride as she scanned this territory that belonged to her: "If one wishes to rule the continent, one must first ensure the subjects under one's governance live like human beings."

Just then, a sudden cry of alarm erupted from the city wall.

"Oh no! That person is going to fall!"

Everyone looked up abruptly.

On the city wall, a little girl who looked only seven or eight years old had apparently lost her footing while chasing or playing on the battlements, and now she was half-suspended in the air.

She clung to the edge of the wall with her two small hands, her face flushed red, her legs kicking helplessly in the void, clearly on the verge of losing her strength and plummeting.

The wall was extremely high; if she fell, death would be certain.

Bibi Dong frowned slightly, about to intervene.

But the next second, a holy golden stream of light suddenly tore through the sky.

A figure draped in angelic light wings dove from the high altitude like a falling star with broken wings, moving so fast that only a blur remained.

She carved a graceful arc through the air, skimming the wall with precision, and caught the little girl firmly at the very last moment before she lost her grip.

She landed lightly.

The golden wings slowly retracted, revealing a lithe figure.

It was a young girl, appearing quite young herself, perhaps around ten years old.

She placed the frightened little girl safely on the ground and gently patted her head: "Little sister, don't play like this next time. The wall is so high; I won't be able to save you a second time if you fall."

"Mm-hmm, thank you, big sister!"

The little girl's face was deathly pale, and she nodded repeatedly.

The girl then stood up and brushed the dust off her clothes.

Bibi Dong narrowed her eyes, watching the angelic phantom that had not yet fully dissipated behind the girl, and murmured: "Holy Angel spirit... a descendant of the Angel Legion."

Seeming to sense Bibi Dong's gaze, the girl with the Angel spirit suddenly looked up.

Her dark brows were slightly furrowed, her skin as fair as snow, appearing almost translucent under the sunlight.

She wore a sharp, white martial outfit that outlined a tall and heroic figure.

Most striking were the gold-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose; the eyes behind the lenses were clear and sharp, exuding a unique charm that blended scholarly refinement with martial spirit.

"Teacher, what is that?"

Jiang Nannan asked in a low voice, clearly stunned by the heroic scene just now.

"The Holy Angel spirit, a lower-ranked version of the god-level Six-Winged Angel spirit."

Bibi Dong explained indifferently, a flash of complex emotion crossing her eyes.

Chen Doudou watched this scene and rubbed his chin: "Sister Dong, I think this big sister is much cooler."

Bibi Dong gave him a sharp look and tapped his head: "You, you only care about looks."

She watched the girl in the distance, the corners of her mouth curling slightly.

It seemed the foundation of Martial Soul Hall still held; this new generation of youth was more promising than she had imagined.

After Ye Guyi returned to the Pope Palace, she couldn't shake the feeling that the purple-haired figure had a sense of familiarity she couldn't quite place.

That unique pressure, that temperament—it was definitely not something an ordinary person could possess.

After much thought, she finally remembered the portrait enshrined deep within the Pope Palace.

"Teacher, do you believe that the Saint Pope Bibi Dong from ten thousand years ago is still alive?"

Ye Guyi stood behind Wang Xian'er and couldn't help but ask.

Wang Xian'er was flipping through an ancient text; she paused at these words without looking up: "How is that possible? That Saint Pope ascended with the Angel God ancestor long ago; it is clearly recorded in history books."

"But Teacher..."

Ye Guyi pointed to the lifelike portrait on the wall, her voice trembling slightly: "I really saw someone exactly like the person in the portrait, just now at the city gate. That purple-haired woman—even her eyes were the same."

The quill in Wang Xian'er's hand trembled slightly.

She slowly turned around and looked at Ye Guyi, her tone sharpening, "Guyi, it's likely you've just been too tired lately and experienced a hallucination. It was probably just someone who bears a slight resemblance to the Holy Pope. Don't make such a fuss."

"You must remember, you are the possessor of the Holy Angel martial soul and the angel with the highest bloodline rank in our Martial Soul Hall today. You must cultivate diligently; perhaps in the future, you will have the chance to once again receive the favor of the Angel God."

"Yes, Teacher."

Ye Guyi lowered her head, her expression dazed and filled with self-doubt. Could it really be that I saw wrong?

Wang Xian'er looked at the disciple in whom she placed the highest hopes, the sternness in her eyes softening, "Go now. Elder Peng, take Guyi back to make preparations."

"The Martial Soul Academy opening ceremony is in a few days. I will publicly take Guyi as my disciple! I want everyone to know that Martial Soul Hall has worthy successors!"

"Yes, Your Holiness."

Scorpion Tiger Douluo Zhang Peng bowed and retreated from the great hall with Ye Guyi.

Only Wang Xian'er remained in the hall.

The candlelight flickered, illuminating the massive portrait on the wall.

The woman in the painting had purple hair flying in the wind, held a demonic scythe, and gazed down upon the world with a look of disdain, as if she would trample everything in existence beneath her feet.

Wang Xian'er walked up to the portrait. The composure and calm she had maintained in front of her disciple vanished, as if she had shed all her disguises.

She reached out a trembling hand and gently stroked the cheek of the person in the painting.

"Great Holy Pope..."

Her voice choked with emotion, devoid of the majesty she displayed during the day, "How am I supposed to lead Martial Soul Hall forward?"

"The Sun Moon Empire is growing powerful, and it looks like they are about to launch another war, yet our Martial Soul Hall no longer possesses the deterrent power we once had..."

"Those sects that once submitted to us are now secretly gathering strength; some have even begun to disregard us entirely."

Wang Xian'er closed her eyes in pain as two lines of tears slid down her face, "If this continues... what will become of us... of Martial Soul Hall? [Choking]"

Bibi Dong in the portrait naturally did not answer her.

Those purple eyes continued to gaze coldly at this decaying world.

As for why Bibi Dong's title was "Holy Pope," the answer was that under her leadership, Martial Soul Hall had reached unprecedented prosperity.

She had nearly unified the continent and nearly established an eternal theocratic dynasty.

Later generations of popes, in order to commemorate her, specifically bestowed upon her the title of "Holy" as a permanent honorific for the eternal pope.

It was a distinction that even Qian Renxue had not attained.

Wang Xian'er slumped onto the cold papal throne, feeling an unprecedented sense of loneliness in the empty hall.

Oh, great Holy Pope...

If you are truly still in this world, please open your eyes and look at your people.

Look at the foundation you left behind, crumbling bit by bit...

Look at your dreams, being trampled upon by others, piece by piece...