Bibi Dong's Wrath

"This God Trial requires me to stay by your side for six years." Luo Yun's voice was calm.

"In these six years, we will not be separated again."

Luo Shang's brow furrowed slightly.

Six years?

What kind of God Trial was this?

But he did not ask, because he saw a light in Luo Yun's eyes—not the violet-black of destruction, nor the emerald green of life, but something warmer and softer.

He suddenly understood: his son had experienced so much in Slaughter City and the Far North, but his essence remained unchanged.

He was still the child who would cry in pain during medicinal baths, complain about the taste of dry rations, and act spoiled in his mother's arms.

"Although I only have the cultivation of a Spirit Ancestor now," Luo Yun raised his right hand, violet-black lightning dancing at his fingertips before dissipating.

"I basically have no need for spirit power anymore."

"And there are very few people left who can bully us."

Luo Shang's pupils contracted slightly.

He remained silent for a long time, then nodded.

He did not ask how Luo Yun had achieved this, nor did he ask what Luo Yun had endured; he simply reached out and ruffled Luo Yun's hair, just as he had in the past.

"Good. I'll listen to you."

The family of three helped each other stand up.

Luo Shang's wounds had not yet healed, and he still walked with a limp, but he refused Shen Yinshuang's support, leaning on his Frost Cold Sword to step out of the ice cave one step at a time.

Shen Yinshuang held Luo Yun's hand, walking by Luo Shang's side, glancing at her son from time to time, her eyes filled with the relief of having survived a catastrophe.

The blizzard in the Far North had ceased.

Luo Yun looked back at the ice cave; the corpses of Chrysanthemum Douluo and Ghost Douluo still lay inside, and the bodies of over twenty Spirit Hall elites were scattered across the ice.

The auras of the Ice Emperor and Snow Emperor had withdrawn from his body, and the contract space was silent.

He turned his head and looked toward the south.

Spirit Hall. Bibi Dong.

Luo Yun gripped his mother's hand, a scarlet light flashing in his eyes before he quickly suppressed it.

Six years.

The God Trial had given him six years.

In these six years, he could stay by his parents' side, be an ordinary child again, and live without killing, fighting, or staining his hands with blood.

But after six years, he would make Spirit Hall pay the price.

The family of three vanished into the wind and snow of the Far North.

Spirit City, Pope Palace.

Bibi Dong sat upon the throne of the Pope Palace, the golden papal crown refracting a cold, piercing light upon her head. Her scepter was held in her right hand, and nine spirit rings rotated slowly at her feet.

Black, black, black, black, black, black, black, black, red—eight black and one red, a suffocating configuration.

At this moment, there was no emotion in her violet eyes, but everyone in the hall could sense that the Pope's mood today was far from right.

"What did you say?"

Bibi Dong's voice was soft, yet it echoed throughout the entire Pope Palace.

The cardinal standing in the center of the hall trembled violently, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as his lips quivered, unable to utter a single word.

He held an urgent secret report in his hands; the handwriting on it was messy and chaotic, clearly written by someone in a state of extreme terror.

"Elder Chrysanthemum Douluo... Elder Ghost Douluo... Elder Ghost Leopard Douluo... Elder Demon Bear Douluo... and all the Spirit Hall elites sent to hunt down King Frost Ling..." The cardinal's teeth chattered, emitting a faint clicking sound as he struggled to spit out the final words.

"All... have fallen."

A deathly silence descended upon the Pope Palace.

The cardinals standing on either side looked at one another; some turned pale, some had their pupils contract, some bit their lips, and others gripped their scepters so tightly their knuckles turned white.

Four Title Douluos—all fallen.

For Spirit Hall, this was the greatest loss in the last decade.

The last time Spirit Hall had lost a Title Douluo was during the time of the former Pope, Qian Xunji.

Bibi Dong's fingers tightened slowly around her scepter, her knuckles turning white, and the gems embedded in the scepter emitted a faint cracking sound.

Deep within her violet eyes, killing intent surged.

"King! Frost! Ling!"

Bibi Dong enunciated the three words one by one, her voice as cold as the deepest ice of the Far North.

The temperature of the entire Pope Palace plummeted by a dozen degrees. The cardinals standing in the hall could not help but shiver; some instinctively took half a step back, some bit their lips hard, and others lowered their heads, not daring to look into the Pope's violet eyes.

The news took wing, flying from Spirit City to every corner of the continent.

Heaven Dou City.

In the teahouses and taverns, the storyteller slapped his gavel, spittle flying as he spoke.

"It is said that King Frost Extreme, a level ninety-five Super Douluo with a hundred-thousand-year spirit ring in his grasp, has guarded the Northern Territory for many years.

Spirit Hall dispatched four Title Douluos to hunt him down. And guess what happened?"

"What happened?"

"They all died! Chrysanthemum Douluo, Ghost Douluo, Ghost Leopard Douluo, and Demon Bear Douluo—four Title Douluos, all fallen!" The storyteller held up four fingers, waving them before the crowd.

"Not a single one returned!"

The teahouse erupted in chaos.

Some slammed their tables in approval, some whispered in hushed tones, some wore grave expressions, and others gloated with glee.

"Spirit Hall has taken a massive tumble this time!"

"Four Title Douluos! Just how many Title Douluos does Spirit Hall even have in total?"

"Is King Frost Extreme really that fierce? He killed four Title Douluos by himself?"

"Who knows? But the fact remains that they are dead. Spirit Hall has even issued the obituaries."

Star Luo Empire.

Inside the imperial palace, the Emperor stared at the secret report in his hands for a long time before passing it to the minister beside him.

"King Frost Extreme of the Heaven Dou Empire." The Emperor's voice was soft, his tone impossible to read—was it admiration or apprehension?

"A single man, killing four of Spirit Hall's Title Douluos. As long as he lives, Spirit Hall will know no peace."

The minister took the report, read it through, and furrowed his brows.

"He is worthy of being the King Frost Extreme who guards the Northern Territory."

"It is fortunate that our armies did not launch a full-scale invasion of the Northern Territory..."

In a nameless small city in the Northern Territory of the Heaven Dou Empire.

Luo Shang stood before the window of an inn, watching the crowds passing by below, and remained silent for a long time.

"Father." Luo Yun's voice came from behind him.

"Hmm."

"Spirit Hall has lost four Title Douluos; Bibi Dong will certainly not let this rest."

Luo Shang turned around to look at his son.

"I know." Luo Shang walked over, sat down beside Luo Yun, reached out to take the cup of water, and took a sip.

"That is why we must be more careful."

"It is not about being careful." Luo Yun looked up, his scarlet eyes devoid of fear or worry, holding only something heavy and reassuring. "It is about waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

"Waiting for her to come."

Luo Shang froze for a moment, then smiled. That smile held helplessness, gratification, and a trace of pride he hadn't even realized himself.

His son was no longer the child who needed his protection.