Two Fingers, Crippled Martial Soul!

"How... how was this possible?!"

Snake Spear Douluo's eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints. The veins on the hands gripping his spear bulged as he desperately tried to push forward even half an inch.

Yet the serpent spear, infused with every ounce of his level ninety-two soul power and wielded in his Martial Soul True Body form, seemed to have been welded into ancient black ice.

No matter how he drove his soul power, it would not move in the slightest.

And he was not the only one.

Porcupinefish Douluo's poison spikes, condensed to their limit, hung suspended in midair. Even the dark green venom on their tips stopped dripping.

The Strange Velvet Sky Chrysanthemum petals Chrysanthemum Douluo had sent dancing through the sky froze in the air.

The surging, deathly black mist of Ghost Douluo was like ink caught in a still frame, unable to spread forward another inch.

The combined, all-out strike of seven Titled Douluos, each pouring in the strength of their entire lives, had been effortlessly blocked by a seemingly thin black barrier less than half a foot before Qian Renxue.

What sent their souls flying from their bodies was this:

From beginning to end, the youth standing before the Pope's throne had not even released his Martial Soul, nor had a single soul ring lit up.

There had been no earth-shattering eruption of soul power, no dazzling, magnificent soul skill effects.

He had simply, casually, blocked the full-force siege of seven Titled Douluos.

"No... impossible..."

Porcupinefish Douluo's fat body trembled violently, the flesh on his face twitching without stop.

"How could the seven of us joining forces be blocked so easily?! Who exactly are you?!"

No one answered him.

Qian Renxue's tightly shut eyes slowly opened. The agonizing pain she had expected never came.

There was only the warm, broad palm resting atop her head, gently rubbing her golden hair with familiar warmth.

She instinctively turned her head and met a pair of deep, pitch-black eyes.

The youth's features were cool and detached, yet a faint, gentle smile rested on his lips, as though the devastating attack from moments ago had been nothing more than a breeze brushing past his cheek.

"Patriarch..."

Qian Renxue's voice was thick with sobs, and her eyes instantly reddened.

In that moment just now, she had truly prepared herself to be hurt.

But she had not expected it.

At the very last moment, the Patriarch would stand firmly before her and protect her.

Like a mountain that would never collapse, shielding her from all wind and rain.

"Silly girl, why are you crying?"

Qin Zheng gently brushed away the tears at the corners of her eyes with his fingertips.

"Don't be afraid. With me here, no one can hurt you."

Qian Renxue nodded hard. Her nose stung, but she could no longer hold back as tears the size of beans rolled down her cheeks.

These were not tears of fear.

They were tears of grievance, of being moved, of the warmth of finally having someone sincerely protect her.

"Alright." Qin Zheng rubbed the top of her head, his gaze gentle. "Leave this to me for now. Go over to your Grandpa Golden Crocodile first."

"Mm!" Qian Renxue sniffled and obediently answered.

She walked over to Golden Crocodile Douluo while repeatedly looking back, her small hand tightly clutching the corner of his robe like a little beast that had found something to rely on.

Everyone present wore strange expressions as they watched this scene.

The young mistress of Spirit Hall, inheritor of the Six-Winged Angel god-tier Martial Soul and future successor of Spirit Hall, was actually so obedient toward a youth who had appeared out of nowhere.

She even displayed an almost dependent affection toward him.

If word of this got out, the entire Douluo Continent would likely be shaken.

Bibi Dong stood where she was, her gaze cold and dark as she watched Qian Renxue's obedient appearance. The fingers hanging at her sides quietly tightened.

She had never seen her daughter like this before.

Before her, Qian Renxue had always been restrained and timid, carrying a cautious desire to please her. She had never shown such completely unguarded dependence.

She remained silent and quietly withdrew the soul power suppressing Golden Crocodile Douluo.

The moment the restraint was lifted, all of Golden Crocodile Douluo's strength surged back into him.

The pressure of a level ninety-eight peak Douluo erupted with a bang.

His eyes turned blood-red as he abruptly swung his head toward Bibi Dong. The soul power around him nearly solidified, and his towering fury was on the verge of bursting forth.

"Bibi Dong! This old man will make you—"

"Grandpa Second Elder..." Qian Renxue gently tugged at the corner of his robe, her voice as soft as a mosquito's, carrying a trace of pleading.

She did not want to see Grandpa Golden Crocodile fight her mother.

Nor did she want Spirit Hall to descend into infighting because of her.

Golden Crocodile Douluo's aura suddenly faltered.

He lowered his head and looked at the young girl beside him, her little face pale and her eyes filled with pleading. It was as though a bucket of cold water had been thrown over the fire in his chest, instantly extinguishing more than half of his fury.

He glared fiercely at Bibi Dong, his chest heaving violently. In the end, he merely snorted heavily and withdrew his gaze.

He crouched down and gently patted Qian Renxue's back, his voice becoming incomparably gentle. "Don't be afraid, Xue'er. Grandpa is here."

Earlier, Bibi Dong had suddenly stepped in to suppress him, causing him to miss the best chance to save Qian Renxue.

This time, no matter what, he would not leave Qian Renxue's side for even half a step.

As for his score with Bibi Dong—

Once the ancestor had dealt with these matters, there would be plenty of time to settle it!

After calming Qian Renxue down, Golden Crocodile Douluo's gaze fell upon Qin Zheng once more.

At that moment—

Qin Zheng finally began to walk forward.

The dark black dragon robe spread lightly with his movements, while his ink-black hair fell over his shoulders.

Before him, Snake Spear Douluo's spear still hung frozen in midair. Purple-green light flickered at its tip, radiating the terrifying might of a Titled Douluo.

The moment he saw Qin Zheng walking toward him first, Snake Spear Douluo panicked.

All of his previous arrogance and murderous ferocity vanished without a trace.

He was not an idiot.

The combined attack of all seven of them had been effortlessly blocked by the other party, who had not even activated his martial soul or soul rings. What chance did they have in a fight?

Moreover, he could not even move now. His soul power seemed to be tightly sealed by something, making it impossible to circulate properly.

"Y-you brat!"

Snake Spear Douluo shouted fiercely despite his inner fear, though his voice carried an imperceptible tremor.

"This is Spirit Hall! What are you trying to do? I'm warning you, don't go too far! His Holiness the Pope is right here, and the Grand Worshiper will arrive soon. You—"

Before he could finish—

Qin Zheng took another step.

Bzzz—!

A faint ripple spread through space.

The youth's figure vanished from where he stood like an afterimage.

When he reappeared—

He was already standing before Snake Spear Douluo.

Less than half a foot separated them.

Qin Zheng raised his eyes, his deep black gaze calmly sweeping over Snake Spear Douluo's terrified face.

He said nothing, merely raising his right hand.

Two slender, fair fingers lightly clamped onto the spear, which had expanded dozens of zhang in length.

The cold touch of metal reached his fingertips.

Snake Spear Douluo's entire body stiffened as he frantically mobilized his soul power, trying to pull back the spear.

Yet the martial soul that had accompanied him for decades seemed to have grown onto the other man's fingers, utterly unmoving.

"Someone like you."

Qin Zheng finally spoke. His voice was calm and mild, yet it carried the indifference of one looking down upon an ant.

"You think you're worthy of brandishing a weapon before me?"

Crack—!

A crisp shattering sound suddenly rang out.

Qin Zheng applied the slightest force with his two fingers.

The spear condensed from Snake Spear Douluo's Martial Soul True Body, harder than refined steel, shattered inch by inch from the tip like fragile glass!

"NO—!"

Snake Spear Douluo let out a miserable scream. A martial soul was connected to a soul master's origin, and the pain of its destruction was a hundred times worse than a physical wound.

His body convulsed violently as blood sprayed from his mouth. Like a kite with its string cut, he was flung backward and slammed heavily into a stone pillar of the Papal Palace.

The impact sent dense cracks spreading across the hard white marble pillar.

He collapsed limply onto the ground, his aura weak and waning.

His nine soul rings had dimmed completely, and he could not even stand.

One move.

Just one move.

A level ninety-two Titled Douluo had his Martial Soul True Body destroyed and was grievously wounded to the brink of death.

The entire hall fell deathly silent.

The remaining six Titled Douluo felt ice run through their bodies, every hair standing on end.