Yue Guan hadn't even finished boasting when his voice abruptly cut off.
He realized that the gray-clad man behind the counter had finally stopped carving.
The man slowly raised his head and looked at Yue Guan with a calm gaze.
What kind of eyes were they?
There was no shock, no fear, not even the slightest ripple of emotion.
All that remained was a profound depth, as if he had seen through the cycle of life and death and endured the vicissitudes of countless ages.
The gray-clad man looked at the golden Singular Velvet Sky Chrysanthemum in Yue Guan's hand and sighed softly.
He set down his carving knife, raised his right hand, still dusted with wood shavings, and flicked a finger toward Yue Guan.
The instant his finger flicked.
Time in the woodcarving shop seemed to suddenly slow down.
No, it wasn't slowing down.
Time was racing by!
An invisible ripple spread from the man's fingertip.
The moment the Singular Velvet Sky Chrysanthemum in Yue Guan's hand, hailed as an immortal-grade herb, came into contact with that ripple,
its radiant golden petals quickly turned yellow and shriveled, as if they had weathered for millions of years.
Then, under Yue Guan's disbelieving gaze,
the enormous Martial Soul turned directly into a cloud of gray-white dust and sifted through his fingers, scattering onto the floor.
"My Martial Soul..."
The smug expression on Yue Guan's face froze at once, replaced by a terror unlike anything he had ever felt.
Before he could react,
the invisible ripple of time had already pierced through his nine astonishingly powerful Soul Rings and struck him.
Yue Guan felt as though someone had smashed his dantian to pieces with a hammer.
His immense Soul Power, at Rank 95, was like snow beneath the blazing sun. It vanished in an instant before that ripple.
"No... This can't be..."
Yue Guan screamed in terror.
He felt as if what flowed through his body was no longer blood, but quicksand.
His vitality and lifespan were being forcibly drained at a speed that drove him mad.
His face, which he had kept as smooth and firm as that of a man in his twenties, rapidly sprouted a dense web of wrinkles.
His golden hair turned withered white in the space of a few breaths.
His legs gave way, and he fell to his knees before the counter with a thud, too weak even to stand.
Only his ragged breathing echoed through the ordinary woodcarving shop.
The image on the Sky Screen froze on Yue Guan's deeply wrinkled, aged face.
The whole Douluo Continent fell silent.
Inside the woodcarving shop,
Yue Guan knelt on the cold bluestone floor, trembling like a leaf.
He could clearly feel the life force inside him draining away at a rapid pace.
His once-smooth, taut skin had become as dry and withered as old tree bark, and even his breath carried the rotten stench of a man nearing death.
The Rank 95 Soul Power he had always been proud of couldn't put up the slightest resistance against this invisible force.
"I... I don't want to die..."
Yue Guan's dry lips trembled as he uttered a hoarse, aged plea for mercy.
At last, he understood. The gray-clad man before him, who looked like a sickly weakling, was no ordinary person.
He was an peerless old monster hidden in the bustle of the mortal world!
The gray-clad man sat behind the counter, calmly watching Yue Guan kneel on the floor.
His deep eyes held the weathered air of one who had seen through the mortal world.
"Flowers bloom and wither; we are born, grow old, fall ill, and die. Such is the cycle of heaven and earth."
The man spoke evenly, as though stating the simplest of truths.
"If you love flowers so much, you should understand that the passing of life is something to be revered."
With that, the gray-clad man raised his wood-shaving-covered right hand and gently waved it toward Yue Guan.
At that single wave,
the invisible force in the woodcarving shop, which seemed capable of devouring everything, reversed in an instant.
Yue Guan's eyes flew wide open.
He felt a vast, gentle vitality pour out of nowhere into the crown of his head.
The wrinkles carved into his face were smoothed away at a visible speed.
His dry, white hair once again took on a golden sheen.
His shriveled muscles filled out, and even the Soul Power suppressed in his dantian began flowing through his meridians once more.
In just a few breaths,
Yue Guan went from a dying old man back to the androgynously handsome elder of Spirit Hall.
His appearance had recovered, but a storm was already raging in his heart.
He slumped to the floor, gasping for breath. Cold sweat drenched the back of his clothes.
That terrifying experience of standing at death's door was more crushing than being killed outright.
He finally understood.
That move had never been meant to take his life.
It had only been a warning.
A punishment for shouting and speaking rudely in the shop.
If the man could strip away his lifespan with a flick of his finger, he could give it back with a wave of his hand.
Treating time like a toy and kneading it at will was a method so far beyond Yue Guan's understanding that he could hardly comprehend it.
"Th-thank you, senior, for sparing my life!"
Yue Guan scrambled around and kowtowed three times to the gray-clad man behind the counter.
There was none of the bearing of a Titled Douluo left in him. He was like a frightened quail, too scared even to raise his head.
The gray-clad man paid no attention to his thanks.
He picked up the carving knife and wood again, and continued carving with his head lowered.
"The shop is dirty."
"Go to the back and get a broom. Sweep up the wood shavings on the floor."
The man's voice was still soft, but it carried an unquestionable authority.
"Yes! Yes! I'll sweep it right away, senior!"
Yue Guan felt as if he had been granted a pardon.
He scrambled to his feet, not even bothering to brush the dust off himself. Head lowered, he hurried respectfully toward the back.
At that moment, the dignified elder of Spirit Hall willingly became a lowly sweeper.
The image on the Sky Screen froze on Yue Guan's back as he dutifully swept the floor.
Shrek Academy, Fasinuo Province, Douluo Continent.
The wide, dirt-covered training ground was so quiet that the rustle of wind through the leaves could be heard.
Everyone stood rooted to the spot, as if they had been struck by a immobilizing spell.
The fat on Ma Hongjun's face twitched violently. He rubbed his eyes hard, seeming unable to believe what he had just seen.
"D-did my eyes deceive me?"
The Fatty turned to his companions, his voice trembling uncontrollably.
"That Chrysanthemum Douluo from Spirit Hall turned into a dying old man one second, then changed back the next. How?"
Dai Mubai stood nearby, his hands clenching into fists without him realizing it.
A chill ran down his back.
"That wasn't an illusion."
Dai Mubai swallowed and spoke with difficulty. "Look at how terrified Yue Guan is. He's a Rank 95 Titled Douluo."
"To make a Titled Douluo kneel and kowtow, then willingly pick up a broom and sweep the floor..."
"What kind of monster is the man sitting behind that counter?"
Tang San stood at the very front of the crowd, his eyes still aching from overusing the Purple Demon Eye.
He had stared fixedly at the Sky Screen, trying to see the gray-clad man's movements.
But he had failed.
His opponent had used no Hidden Weapons and released no poison. He hadn't even left behind a trace of energy.
"That was the Law of Time."
Tang San drew a deep breath. His voice was quiet, but it struck every heart like a heavy hammer.
Xiao Wu nervously tugged at Tang San's clothes, her small face pale as she asked, "Brother, what's the Law of Time?"
Tang San turned to the bewildered teachers and students and patiently explained.
"On the Douluo Continent, a Soul Master's attacks, whether physical blows or elemental damage, are fundamentally about harming the enemy's body."
"For example, burning them with fire, drowning them with water, or cutting them with a blade."
"But that man didn't cause Yue Guan any direct physical harm."
Tang San raised his hand and pointed at the light curtain in the sky.
"What he took away was Yue Guan's time."
"No matter how strong someone's defenses are or how high their Soul Power is, they can't resist the passage of time."
"That man merely flicked a finger, and in just a few breaths, Yue Guan lived through decades and entered old age."
As he spoke, deep reverence flashed in Tang San's eyes.
"That's what makes him truly terrifying."
"If he can take away time, then he can bestow it as well."
"So after Yue Guan begged for mercy, he waved his hand and gave back the time Yue Guan had lost."
"This power to control life and death has gone entirely beyond the realm of human martial arts."
After hearing Tang San's analysis, Flender and Zhao Wuji exchanged a glance. Both saw the same deep shock in each other's eyes.
Flender took off his glasses and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
"Xiao San is right."
"A master of that level wouldn't even need to lift a finger to kill someone. One look, and he could make you die of old age on the spot."
"Terrifying... This is too terrifying..."
While everyone was still shaken by Tang San's analysis,
Yu Xiaogang, who had been standing in a corner, suddenly went limp and collapsed onto the dirt.
The Grandmaster, who had always considered himself unrivaled in theory, stared blankly ahead and muttered to himself.
"Impossible. This defies all logic, damn it..."
Yu Xiaogang yanked at his hair. His neatly combed short hair ended up looking like a bird's nest.
"Even a god can't just control time at will."
"He clearly has no Soul Power and is an ordinary mortal. How can this be?"
Yu Xiaogang felt his worldview crumbling piece by piece.
He had always taught his students that there were no useless Martial Souls, only useless Soul Masters.
But now, that person from the Renegade Immortal World had shown him the hard truth.
He didn't need a Martial Soul at all.
He could sit in a shabby woodcarving shop, drink rough tea, carve wood, and toy with the strongest people on the Douluo Continent as if they were ants.
"Teacher..."
Tang San went to Yu Xiaogang and reached out to help him up.
Yu Xiaogang recoiled from Tang San's hand as if he had been shocked.
He raised his head. His rigid face was full of despair and fear.
"Xiao San, we can't win."
"Everyone in that world is a monster."
"In their eyes, we so-called Soul Masters might not even be as valuable as the weeds by the roadside."
Seeing his teacher on the verge of a mental collapse, Tang San felt a pang of sorrow.
But he knew this wasn't the time to lose heart.
He turned and looked at Yue Guan, who was now sweeping with his head lowered in the light curtain.
"At least we've figured out one thing."
Tang San clenched his fist, his eyes growing resolute.
"In that world, many seemingly ordinary mortals may well be peerless experts living in seclusion."
"If anyone gets transported there in the future, they must never judge people by their appearance, much less use their Soul Power to cause trouble."
"Yue Guan was too arrogant. That's why he kicked an iron plate."
"Keeping a low profile and enduring—that's the only way to survive."
Spirit City, Pope Palace.
This magnificent building, symbolizing the highest authority on the Douluo Continent, was now terrifyingly silent.
The air in the great hall seemed frozen, making it hard even to breathe.
Bibi Dong stood before the papal throne, the scepter in her hand giving a faint crack as she gripped it too tightly.
The ease and smugness that had filled her beautiful eyes moments ago were gone.
In their place was a shudder that ran deep into her bones.
Gui Mei, standing below the steps, did not even dare raise his head.
He had watched with his own eyes as his decades-long partner was tormented again and again on the brink of death, only to end up thanking his tormentor and sweeping the floor for him.
That bleak feeling of a fox mourning the death of a hare made even Gui Mei, a Titled Douluo who had dealt with death for years, feel a genuine chill of terror.
"His Holiness the Pope..."
Gui Mei spoke in a hoarse voice, so faint it was barely louder than a mosquito's buzz.
"Yue Guan... he managed to keep his life, at least, didn't he?"
Bibi Dong did not answer.
She simply stared fixedly at the Sky Screen, her chest rising and falling violently.
Just then, a brilliant golden light suddenly blazed above the dome of the Pope Palace.
The light was holy and warm, imbued with an inviolable sacred aura. In an instant, it illuminated the entire dim hall.
With the appearance of the golden light,
a tall, imposing figure slowly descended from the air.
He wore a pristine white robe, and his long golden hair fell loosely over his shoulders.
He was handsome, appearing to be only in his thirties or forties, yet his deep-set eyes held the indifferent gaze of one who looked down upon all living things.
He was none other than the Great Enshrined of Spirit Hall, the level ninety-nine Peerless Douluo, Qian Daoliu!
Qian Daoliu usually remained in Douluo Hall, serving the Angel God, and rarely interfered in Spirit Hall's day-to-day affairs.
That he had made an exception and come to the Pope Palace today was clearly because the scenes on the Sky Screen had alarmed him as well.
"Great Enshrined."
Bibi Dong inclined her head slightly. Her tone was respectful, but her gaze remained cold.
Qian Daoliu paid no heed to Bibi Dong's attitude.
He walked straight to the center of the hall, raised his head, and silently watched the screen of light in the air.
At that moment, Qian Daoliu's face had none of its usual composure.
His brow was furrowed, and a complex light flickered in his eyes.
"What a terrifying power."
Qian Daoliu was silent for a long while before slowly uttering those words.
His voice echoed through the hall, carrying a trace of weariness he could scarcely conceal.
"I have served the Angel God for most of my life. I thought I had gained some understanding of divine power."
"The Angel God commands the laws of light and flame, and can purify all evil in the world."
Qian Daoliu turned to look at Bibi Dong.
"But even the exalted Angel God cannot casually strip someone of their time and then bestow it upon them again, as that man in gray did."
"Time is the most mysterious thing in this universe—and the most untouchable taboo."
Hearing Qian Daoliu's words, Bibi Dong's heart sank. She knew he was not joking.