Welcome, Your Excellency the Holy Pope!

After finding a decent hotel in the city and settling Jiang Nannan's mother in, Bibi Dong took Chen Doudou by one hand and Jiang Nannan by the other, heading straight for the Pope Palace.

Just as they were a hundred meters from the Pope Palace square, a squad of Temple Knights clad in heavy armor blocked their path.

"Halt!"

The captain of the Temple Knights raised his halberd, his voice booming with a sternness that forbade approach: "This is the sacred ground of the Pope Palace; none may enter without a summons! Withdraw at once!"

Bibi Dong paused, a light laugh escaping her lips.

"A decent defense."

She nodded slightly, seemingly satisfied with the strict security: "But this Empress is no stranger."

As her words fell, an indescribably terrifying aura erupted from her body.

The previously sunny sky instantly turned gloomy.

Following this, a massive, purple-black phantom slowly emerged behind Bibi Dong.

It was her second martial soul, the Soul-Eater Spider Emperor!

"Red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red, red!"

Nine rays of light, like nine scorching suns, rose in sequence from beneath Bibi Dong's feet and hovered in mid-air.

Every single one was a suffocating blood-red!

Hundred-thousand-year soul rings!

Nine of them in total!

The terrifying pressure struck the surroundings like a physical mountain.

The stone slabs on the square cracked inch by inch, and the warhorses beneath the Temple Knights let out terrified neighs, rearing up and throwing their riders to the ground.

"Ni... nine hundred-thousand-year soul rings!!!"

The captain's pupils were bloodshot, his entire body trembling like a leaf in an autumn gale.

In all his years, the strongest person he had ever seen possessed only a single hundred-thousand-year soul ring.

Nine hundred-thousand-year soul rings—this was a configuration that belonged only to the gods of legend!

At that same moment, this world-shattering pressure swept across the entirety of Martial Soul City.

In the distance, Zhang Peng, who had just left the Pope Palace with Ye Guyi, stopped abruptly, his expression shifting violently.

"Guyi, something may have happened at the Pope Palace. I must go and see. Stay here and do not wander off!"

Zhang Peng said urgently, his Soul Power surging as he prepared to turn into a streak of light and dash off.

"Grandpa Peng, I want to go and see too. My teacher's affairs are my own."

Ye Guyi quickly grabbed Zhang Peng's arm, her voice anxious.

She had been shaken by the pressure, and her heart grew increasingly uneasy.

Because she possessed the Holy Angel martial soul, she had lived a life of displacement since childhood. Her parents had died at the hands of Evil Soul Masters while trying to protect her, and it was her teacher, Wang Xian'er, who had adopted her, provided her shelter, and taught her to cultivate.

In Ye Guyi's heart, Wang Xian'er was more than just a master; she was a mother figure.

"Fine, but once we arrive, you must stay behind us at all times. Do not try to be a hero!"

After much deliberation, Zhang Peng looked at the determination in Ye Guyi's eyes and could only grit his teeth and warn her.

"Grandpa Peng, I will listen to you." Ye Guyi nodded repeatedly.

Immediately after, Zhang Peng, with a tense expression, transformed into a streak of light with Ye Guyi and shot toward the Pope Palace, his heart filled with trepidation.

He did not know if this sudden powerhouse was friend or foe... but regardless, he, Zhang Peng, had to protect the Pope.

Years ago, when he was still weak and judged as an Evil Soul Master by Mu En, it was Wang Xian'er who had withstood the pressure of the entire continent to clear his name in the name of the Martial Soul Hall.

That was how he became the current Elder Peng of the Martial Soul Hall.

The first person of the Worship Hall.

A level 96 Super Douluo, with a future advancement to level 97 all but guaranteed.

That debt of gratitude was as heavy as Mount Tai.

Inside the Pope Palace.

A Temple Knight stumbled in, shouting in a panic: "Disaster, Your Holiness! An enemy attack, an enemy attack! Someone has broken into our Martial Soul Hall!"

"Another Evil Soul Master?"

Wang Xian'er had been sitting on her throne reviewing memorials, but upon hearing this, she was instantly enraged. The quill in her hand snapped, and she gritted her teeth: "These people are truly lawless! Do they really think there is no one who can deal with them? They even dare to break into Martial Soul City now!"

"No, it's not..."

The knight gasped for air, his face as pale as paper: "She... she calls herself Bibi Dong."

"Boom!"

Wang Xian'er's mind buzzed, as if something had exploded inside.

She stood up abruptly, not even caring about her composure. With a flash, she appeared directly before the knight, gripping his hands tightly, her voice trembling: "Are you certain she called herself Bibi Dong? Did you see clearly?"

"Yes, this subordinate absolutely did not mistake her!"

The Temple Knight did not know why the Pope was so uncomposed, but he hurriedly nodded again, saying in sheer terror: "And... and that person actually possessed nine hundred-thousand-year soul rings! Nine of them, Your Holiness!"

"That aura was enough to crush the very heavens!"

Wang Xian'er's pupils constricted; shock was followed immediately by a surge of joy.

She was almost certain.

The Holy Pope... had truly manifested!

Over the ten thousand years of change, records of the Holy Pope were only studied by a few high-ranking members of the Martial Soul Hall; most people had long since forgotten.

It was normal for these Temple Knights not to recognize her, but she would never forget!

She didn't even have time to change her shoes, nor did she care about her dignity. She hiked up her skirt and hurried outside, her panicked appearance devoid of any papal majesty, replaced entirely by a child rushing to see a parent.

When Wang Xian'er rushed out of the main hall.

Seeing that purple-haired, peerless figure standing in the square.

Her tears broke like a dam.

That was the person from the portraits.

That was the ancestor she had revered, worshipped, and even treated as her faith since childhood.

"An... Ancestor... it really is you!"

Wang Xian'er stumbled forward a few steps, her knees giving way, and she collapsed heavily onto the ground.

With this kneeling, it was as if the thousand-catty burden she had carried for over a hundred years had been lifted.

She had been forced into this position, holding up the sinking ship of the Martial Soul Hall, drifting in the wind and rain for far too long.

The threats from the Sun Moon Empire, the suppression by major sects, the exclusion by Shrek... she spent every day in agony, terrified that the ship of the Martial Soul Hall would sink completely.

One must remember, she was merely a Healing-type soul master.

At this moment, seeing Bibi Dong, all of Wang Xian'er's strength crumbled instantly.

"Ancestor, it is Xian'er's incompetence..."

Wang Xian'er knelt before Bibi Dong, crying like a child: "I have no way to lead the Martial Soul Hall to strength. In recent years, our sphere of influence has shrunk repeatedly, our taxes have been intercepted, our territories stolen, and even those sects that once submitted to us now dare to defecate on our heads..."

"Wuwuwu... I have failed you, I have failed your legacy..."

She wept heart-wrenchingly, her forehead striking the cold ground with heavy, dull thuds.

Seeing this, Bibi Dong initially wanted to reprimand her.

After all, for a dignified Pope to kneel just like that in public—what kind of decorum was this?

But looking at the woman kneeling before her, seeing the gray hairs at her temples earned from protecting the Martial Soul Hall, Bibi Dong's heart softened.

She stepped forward, bent down, and pulled Wang Xian'er's trembling body into her embrace.

"Silly child, you have done very well."

Bibi Dong gently patted her back, as if coaxing a little girl who had been wronged: "To be able to hold onto this small patch of land under such circumstances, you have already done your best. This is not your fault."

Hearing this, Wang Xian'er cried even harder, feeling even more apologetic toward her ancestor. The guilt and self-reproach in her heart surged, as if she wanted to vent all the grievances of her life.

At this moment, Zhang Peng arrived with Ye Guyi.

Seeing that peerless figure with nine hundred-thousand-year soul rings, he too froze in place.

He had looked at portraits of Bibi Dong countless times and heard her deeds recounted countless times, yet he had never truly believed that gods existed in this world.

But now, he believed.

So, there really were gods in this world!

Otherwise, how could one explain how a person from ten thousand years ago could appear now?

"Welcome, Holy Pope!"

Zhang Peng knelt without hesitation.

Immediately after, all the Titled Douluo elders, bishops, and cardinals who had rushed to the Pope Palace upon hearing the news—everyone who saw Bibi Dong—knelt down without exception.

A sea of black, the entire square fell into a deathly silence, save for the sound of Wang Xian'er's stifled sobs.

Ye Guyi stood behind Zhang Peng, looking curiously at the Bibi Dong surrounded by the crowd, her heart churning with massive waves.

Was this the Holy Pope her teacher worshipped day and night?

Was this the woman who, in legend, had nearly established a unified empire?

She knelt down, trembling, her vision blurred by tears.

So, she hadn't mistaken the person.

So, her teacher had not been fighting alone.

So, their god had truly returned!