Contract Bibi Dong

The dome of Papal Hall let out an overburdened creak, and the golden patterns on the walls lit up simultaneously—the sign that Papal Hall's defensive formation had activated automatically. Yet the formation patterns, strong enough to withstand a full-power strike from a Title Douluo, were as fragile as paper lanterns before this pressure. They flickered twice before shattering one after another.

All the red-robed bishops in the hall changed expression at once. Several of the weaker ones had already dropped to their knees, blood spilling from their mouths. Even the elders at the Soul Douluo level could only barely hold on, veins bulging across their foreheads.

Bibi Dong abruptly rose to her feet, driving the soul power within her at full force before she could barely resist the pressure.

For the first time, her expression changed.

Across all of Soul Land, she was an unparalleled powerhouse at the Title Douluo level. Yet at this moment, a mere aura of pressure had forced her to circulate her soul power at full capacity just to remain standing.

The newcomer's strength far surpassed her own.

"Who are you?" Bibi Dong's voice was cold and imposing, without a trace of fear, though the knuckles gripping the armrest had already turned white from strain.

No one answered her.

The great doors of the hall slowly opened.

A young man in a blue-green robe walked in from outside, his pace unhurried and his robes untouched by even a speck of dust. His features were handsome yet detached, and his dark black eyes were as still as a stagnant pool. His gaze swept across everyone in the hall before finally settling on Bibi Dong.

It was him.

Bibi Dong's pupils contracted slightly. She truly could not sense the slightest fluctuation of soul power from him. Yet that terrifying pressure was undoubtedly emanating from this very person.

"Pope Bibi Dong?" Tang Ling stopped walking and stood with his hands behind his back.

Bibi Dong took a deep breath and forced herself to regain her composure.

She slowly descended the steps from the Papal Throne. Every step she took was steady, her papal robe trailing behind her with a faint rustling sound.

"Who are you, sir? Why have you trespassed into my Papal Hall?"

Tang Ling looked at her. Rather than answering her question, he suddenly said something that left everyone utterly bewildered.

"Sign a soul contract, and live. Refuse, and die. Choose."

An uproar broke out in the hall.

"How presumptuous!" a consecrated elder shouted angrily. Soul rings lit beneath his feet as he prepared to rush forward.

Tang Ling did not even turn to look at him. He merely raised a finger.

The elder's entire body was as though an invisible hand had seized him by the throat. His feet left the ground, and he floated in midair.

His face turned purple-red at a visible rate. His hands flailed wildly through the air, yet he could not release even a trace of soul power.

The entire hall fell deathly silent.

A consecrated elder could not withstand even one finger before this young man.

Bibi Dong's pupils shrank violently.

She had already greatly overestimated the newcomer's strength, but now it seemed she had still underestimated him. Such absolute domination was likely something only a legendary Ultimate Douluo could achieve.

No—even a level ninety-nine Ultimate Douluo could not possibly do this so effortlessly.

Just who was this man?

Tang Ling lowered his finger, and the consecrated elder fell from the air, crashing heavily onto the floor. He gasped for breath in great heaves, his eyes filled with the terror of having narrowly escaped death.

"I don't want to waste time." Tang Ling looked at Bibi Dong again, his gaze calm. "Will you sign or not?"

Bibi Dong fell silent.

Soul power above level ninety circulated rapidly through her body as she calculated every possible option: fighting, fleeing, activating Spirit Hall's ultimate defensive measures...

She ran through every possibility in an instant, then rejected them one by one.

Before a powerhouse of this level, any resistance would be futile.

But she was Bibi Dong. The Pope of Spirit Hall. The most powerful woman in Soul Land. How could she possibly sign some soul contract and place her life and death in another person's hands?

"What... is a soul contract?" Bibi Dong asked through gritted teeth.

Tang Ling raised his hand, gathering a ball of pale golden rune-light in his palm. Within that glow, an intricate rune array so complex it made one's vision blur slowly rotated, emanating an ancient and obscure aura.

"Swear upon your soul, bind your life by contract. Sign it, and your life and death will rest upon a single thought of mine. Betray me, and your soul will be destroyed. Obey me, and you will remain the Pope."

Bibi Dong's face turned pale.

This was no ordinary contract. It was a true master-servant contract.

Once she signed it, she would no longer be the lofty Pope of Spirit Hall, but this man's slave.

"You..."

"You may choose not to sign." Tang Ling's tone remained even, but the killing intent within that calmness made the temperature in the hall plummet. "In that case, you will die. Then I'll find someone else willing to sign and make them Pope."

He was not joking.

Bibi Dong read that from those eyes, calm as stagnant water.

This man truly would kill her, without the slightest hesitation. To him, killing her would be as insignificant as crushing an ant.

The atmosphere in the hall froze solid.

All the consecrated elders held their breath. No one dared to speak. They all knew that the decision made at this moment would change the fate of Spirit Hall itself.

Bibi Dong closed her eyes.

Countless thoughts churned through her mind: her hatred, her ambition, her unfinished plans... Under her control, Spirit Hall had flourished, and it was on the verge of completely suppressing the two great empires. She could not die here.

And besides—

Her gaze fell on Tang Ling. There was no emotion in those deep black eyes, calm as a mirror.

She read another meaning in his gaze: her very existence was insignificant to him.

Killing her or sparing her were merely two different solutions to him, fundamentally leading to the same result—he needed an obedient Spirit Hall. Whether she, the Pope, remained in that position or someone else took her place, he did not care.

That absolute, cold indifference, untouched by any emotion, made Bibi Dong feel powerless for the first time.

It was not the helplessness born of a gap in strength, but the helplessness of realizing her own worth meant nothing.

She had struggled for so many years, becoming the Pope of Spirit Hall, controlling the continent's strongest power, making countless people fear and submit to her.

Yet before this man, none of it had any meaning.

"I'll sign."

Bibi Dong opened her eyes. Her voice was dry, yet remarkably calm.

Tang Ling nodded and raised a hand, driving the golden rune formation into Bibi Dong's brow.

The instant the rune formation sank into her brow, Bibi Dong's entire body shuddered.

She could clearly feel an icy force seep into the depths of her soul, entwining with her natal divine soul. From this moment onward, her life no longer belonged to her.

With a single thought from Tang Ling, her soul would be utterly destroyed.

The sensation frightened her and enraged her, but more than that, it stirred a complicated emotion she could not even explain herself.

The oppressive pressure slowly receded.

Tang Ling withdrew his aura, and everyone in the great hall let out long breaths of relief. The offering elders collapsed limply to the ground, drenched in sweat as though they had just been pulled from the water.