Twin Martial Souls

The main hall was even more spacious than imagined.

The dome was high, and sunlight poured in through the windows on both sides, casting neat columns of light across the floor.

A dark purple carpet ran through the center of the hall, stretching from the entrance all the way to the Pope's throne at the far end.

Fang Mo followed the attendant inside, his footsteps echoing through the empty hall.

Fang Mo stopped at the end of the carpet.

The attendant stepped aside.

Bibi Dong was different from last night.

Last night, Bibi Dong had worn casual clothes and no crown, looking like an ordinary yet aloof woman.

But today...

She wore formal papal robes, a dark purple gown embroidered with intricate golden patterns, with a purple gemstone set into the collar.

Her hair was swept into a high bun, and a silver papal crown rested neatly atop her head.

She no longer looked like a young woman in her twenties. She looked more like a cold, imposing, unapproachable empress.

At that moment, Bibi Dong sat in the seat of honor, her posture upright and expression indifferent. There was not the slightest emotional ripple in her violet eyes.

Two people sat on either side of the long table.

The first person on the left was an elderly man with graying hair. He wore the grayish-purple robes unique to the Elder Hall, and the wrinkles on his face were as deep as knife cuts.

Someone from the Elder Hall.

The old man's gaze at Fang Mo held no curiosity, only a trace of hostility beneath his scrutiny.

On the right sat another older man, broad and powerfully built, with a ruddy complexion and a golden emblem pinned to his chest.

Someone from the Consecrated Hall.

Fang Mo's heart stirred.

The fact that people from both the Consecrated Hall and the Elder Hall had appeared in the main hall meant that news from the orphanage had already spread yesterday.

And it had not only alarmed the Elder Hall.

There was also a middle-aged woman with a calm expression, holding a notebook in her arms and a pen in her hand.

A Martial Soul researcher.

Fang Mo withdrew his gaze and stood three steps away from the long table, putting on the reaction expected of a six-year-old child.

He slightly hunched his shoulders, lowered his head, and nervously twisted his hands together.

"Raise your head."

Bibi Dong's voice came from directly ahead, calm and detached, carrying the tone of the Pope.

Fang Mo raised his head and met those violet eyes. Bibi Dong looked at him, her gaze no longer as complicated as it had been in the carriage last night.

"Begin."

Bibi Dong turned her head toward the researcher.

The researcher stood up, walked to the table, and picked up a transparent crystal ball.

"Child, come here."

Fang Mo slowly stepped forward and placed his right hand on the crystal as instructed.

"Focus your mind, just as you did during your awakening."

Fang Mo closed his eyes and tried to mobilize the Soul Power within him.

Soul Power flowed into his palm.

The crystal ball lit up.

It was not blue, but a deep, nearly black dark purple radiance.

The researcher's expression changed again and again.

The pen in her hand hovered in midair. Her eyes were fixed on the crystal ball, and her lips parted slightly, yet she did not speak.

After a long while, she lowered her head and said, "Your Holiness, this Martial Soul does not match any known Martial Soul. I am not sure how to describe her..."

The people from the Elder Hall and the Worship Hall were both stunned upon hearing that.

After all, with the Spirit Hall's accumulated knowledge over so many years, what kind of Martial Soul had they not seen or recorded?

To be honest, they felt a measure of curiosity about what had appeared today.

"Continue the test."

Bibi Dong's voice remained utterly calm.

The female researcher nodded and replaced it with another crystal ball.

"Child, place your hand on this. It will test the purity of your Innate Soul Power."

Fang Mo placed his hand on it.

One ring, two rings, three rings...

The female researcher's hand began to tremble. "Innate... Innate Full Soul Power."

The old man from the Elder Hall shot to his feet, his chair scraping harshly across the floor.

"Impossible!"

His voice abruptly rose. "There have been no more than five recorded cases of Innate Full Soul Power in the entire history of Spirit Hall! A child from that orphanage..."

"Sit down."

Bibi Dong finally spoke.

Just two words. Her tone was not heavy, yet the old man seemed to be pressed back into his seat by an invisible hand.

The middle-aged man from the Consecrated Hall had not spoken all along, but his gaze had become much sharper than before.

The main hall fell silent.

The female researcher drew a deep breath and tried to steady her voice. "Your Holiness, the Soul Power purity test has been completed.

Next, this child must actively manifest his Martial Soul so that its form and attribute characteristics can be recorded further."

Bibi Dong gave a slight nod.

"Child, just as last night, try to summon your Martial Soul."

Fang Mo slowly closed his eyes and sank his spiritual power into his Spirit Sea.

Within the darkness, that phantom still floated where it had been.

Rakshasa God · Bibi Dong's remnant soul—Spirit Dong'er.

(Revised. Use "Spirit Dong'er" in place of Rakshasa God · Bibi Dong. It looks simpler.)

She was even more transparent than she had been last night.

Her dark red eyes were half-open, her posture lazy and indifferent, like an aristocratic young lady who had been unwillingly awakened.

"What is it?"

Spirit Dong'er's voice rang out in the Sea of Consciousness, sounding somewhat hoarse and weak.

Fang Mo said inwardly:

"She wants to see you."

"No."

Fang Mo paused at that. "People from the Elder Hall and the Consecrated Hall are here. You do not want your former self to lose face in front of them either, do you?"

A faint, cold snort sounded from within the Spirit Sea. Fang Mo could feel that icy presence weaken somewhat.

It was not because Fang Mo had successfully persuaded her, but because of the words "lose face."

Then Spirit Dong'er floated toward the upper reaches of the Spirit Sea, the passage through which she could enter the outside world.

Fang Mo felt an icy force flow from within his body through his meridians and into his right hand.

He opened his eyes and raised his right hand.

Darkness spilled from his palm.

This time, it was not as violent as it had been during his awakening. It was slow and controllable, like a flower gradually blooming.

The darkness gathered before Fang Mo, slowly stretching into a graceful outline.

A humanoid woman.

Her figure was slender and exquisitely curved, with long hair cascading down her back like a waterfall.

Her features remained blurred, shrouded in a thin, mist-like darkness, though they were clearer than last night.

One could vaguely make out a high nose bridge, thin lips, and those dark red eyes.

The entire main hall fell deathly silent.

The researcher's pen dropped onto the table with a soft clatter.

The old man from the Elder Hall had turned livid, his lips trembling as he failed to utter a single word.

The middle-aged man from the Consecrated Hall could no longer remain seated either. He leaned slightly forward, brows furrowed, his gaze locked onto the phantom.

Because he could sense that this Martial Soul was scarcely inferior to Qian Renxue's Martial Soul. One had to know that Qian Renxue possessed a Divine-level Martial Soul!

Thus, the man from the Worship Hall immediately used his divine sense to communicate with his elder brother.

Just then.

Fang Mo's Martial Soul changed once more.

A scythe.

A curved black scythe, its blade wrapped in dark purple patterns. A skull sat at the end of its handle, dim purple light flickering within its hollow eye sockets.

The scythe radiated coldness and a suffocating aura of death.

The researcher screamed and involuntarily staggered back three steps, crashing into a stone pillar behind her in a daze.

The old man from the Elder Hall no longer had the strength even to stand. He slumped directly into his chair, gripping its armrests tightly with both hands, his face turning pale.

The middle-aged man from the Consecrated Hall abruptly rose to his feet. His communication with his elder brother came to an abrupt halt, and his reaction was greater than anyone else's.

"Twin Martial Souls!"