Degeneration

The disturbances in the outside world were like pebbles cast into a lake; the ripples would eventually subside.

The subtle yet omnipresent maneuvering of Martial Soul Hall ensured that the truth behind the "death of Ning Zha" spread to every corner of the continent. The reputations of the two Upper Three Sects suffered a heavy blow. While the blade of public opinion did not strike at their foundations, it left them utterly humiliated and cast a shadow over many of their alliances.

In stark contrast, the image of Martial Soul Hall quietly soared in the hearts of countless commoners. There was no need for grand speeches or official statements; simply presenting the "facts" was enough for those downtrodden soul masters and commoners—who had long suffered bullying with nowhere to seek justice—to silently regard the halls standing in every major city as symbols of "justice" and "sanctuary."

Authority grew in the silence.

Ning Fengzhi's remedial measures were indeed taking effect. A unified narrative, the passage of time, and the constant emergence of fresh topics of conversation were slowly washing away people's memories. That bloody tragedy was gradually being categorized as an "unfortunate accident," even though every person in the know held their own private scale.

Time is a ruler's best ally.

A month passed in the blink of an eye.

—Martial Soul Hall, Worship Hall.

Located in the deepest reaches of the main Martial Soul Hall, this was the most core, mysterious, and inviolable area of the entire complex. A massive statue of the Angel God stood in the center of the hall, its six wings unfurled. Holy radiance flowed as if eternal, shrouding everything below in a faint, golden halo. Beneath the statue lay an ancient altar.

At this moment, a child lay quietly upon that altar.

Seven figures stood around the perimeter.

Their auras were restrained, yet they still exerted a heavy, abyss-like pressure. The seven Great Worships of the Worship Hall were all present.

The First Worship, Qian Daoliu, wore a simple white robe. His silver hair cascaded like a waterfall, and his face was ancient and calm. His eyes were as deep as the starry sky, as if they could contain everything in the world. He stood at the very front, gazing at the altar in silence.

The Second Worship, Golden Crocodile Douluo, was draped in a dark gold scale-patterned robe. His hair was white as snow, and his golden eyes were sharp. Even just standing there, he radiated a mountain-like, heavy majesty. His brows were tightly furrowed, his gaze shifting between the child on the altar and the First Worship.

The Third Worship, Azure Luan Douluo, wore a cyan-blue robe adorned with Azure Luan feathers on the pauldrons. His handsome face was as cold as ice, and his smoky-blue eyes held extreme focus mixed with a rare trace of confusion.

The Fourth Worship, Mighty Lion Douluo, had short, fiery-red hair standing on end. His muscles bulged beneath his red-gold flame-patterned armor, and his wild eyes carried a rare touch of gravity.

The Fifth Worship, Feather Light Douluo, held the most casual posture, but even his eyes had shed their usual playfulness, replaced by a curiosity mingled with bewilderment.

The Sixth Worship, Thousand Might Douluo, and the Seventh Worship, Demon Subduing Douluo, stood side by side, their expressions equally solemn.

Their gazes were all fixed on the small figure on the altar—Ning Zha.

They were all aware of Ning Zha's origins by now.

After a month of nourishment, the child was no longer the pale, cold, and lifeless figure he had been when first brought here.

His complexion had returned to a healthy flush, his breathing was long and steady, and there was even a faint, peaceful curve to the corners of his mouth, as if he were merely sleeping.

Nourished by the light emanating from the Angel God statue, his condition had improved at a visible rate. His very life essence seemed to be reshaped and consolidated by some mysterious power.

However, that was precisely where the problem lay.

"First Worship, what is the meaning of this?" Demon Subduing Douluo was the first to break the silence. His voice carried clear concern and a trace of imperceptible anxiety as he looked toward Qian Daoliu. He and his brother, Thousand Might, felt an inexplicable sense of closeness to the child, and seeing this bizarre phenomenon made it difficult for them to remain calm.

Qian Daoliu did not answer immediately. His deep gaze swept over the other Worships, his expression calm and rippleless, yet it seemed to ask: What do you think?

As the strongest and most senior Worship besides Qian Daoliu, Golden Crocodile Douluo was pushed to the forefront by the others' gazes. He pondered for a moment, his rugged, majestic face furrowing further, his voice deep and resonant: "I cannot say for sure."

He glanced at the child on the altar, then at the towering Angel God statue.

"Under the protection of the Angel God statue, this child's condition has only improved over this period. His life essence is stable, and in some respects, he has even been purified and sublimated. Of this, there is no doubt."

He paused, his confusion becoming more apparent: "But this regression... reverting from the appearance of a seven-year-old to an even younger age, while his life essence has not diminished but instead become purer and more solid... I have cultivated for hundreds of years, and I truly cannot make heads or tails of it."

The Third Worship, Azure Luan Douluo, took up the thread, his voice as cold and clear as a spring, devoid of any worldly air: "I cannot see through it either."

His gaze rested on Ning Zha, a spiritual light seemingly swirling in the depths of his smoky-blue eyes as he attempted to analyze the anomaly.

"But even though the child is 'regressing,' his state is indeed better. Whether it is his physical strength, his life essence, or that faint, unawakened potential... all of it is being purified and solidified in this seemingly backward process. It does not look like decay; it looks more like... a form of 'returning to the source'."

"Returning to the source?" Mighty Lion Douluo repeated in a muffled voice. He scratched his fiery short hair, a rare look of bewilderment on his face. "I've only heard of returning to one's youth, but that's a legend for those who have reached an extremely high level of soul power. This child doesn't even have soul power; how can he return to the source? I've never heard of it, nor have I ever seen it."

He looked at Qian Daoliu, his eyes clearly asking, "First Worship, give us an explanation."

At this moment, Feather Light Douluo, who had been rolling his eyes, suddenly stroked his chin and offered an extremely simple and grounded suggestion: "If all else fails... how about feeding him some milk? He's a little baby, after all; eating more is always good."

"Pfft—"

Thousand Might Douluo and Demon Subduing Douluo both turned dark in the face, nearly choked by their brother's eccentric train of thought.

Feather Light Douluo, however, remained oblivious, feeling his suggestion was perfectly logical, and argued: "Look, he's become smaller now, so his appetite might have changed too. He used to be seven and could eat solid food, but maybe now he needs liquid food?"

Mighty Lion Douluo glared at him: "All you think about is food!"

Golden Crocodile Douluo also shook his head helplessly.

Only Azure Luan Douluo, along with Thousand Might and Demon Subduing, found their gazes involuntarily returning to Ning Zha's peaceful little face, a thought flashing through their minds: Although Feather Light's words were off-the-wall, was it... perhaps not entirely unreasonable? This phenomenon did look far too much like a special state where one needed to return to a more primitive way of drawing life.