In reality, the shock caused by the deaths of Sentimental Douluo and Ruthless Douluo ran far deeper—and was far more lethal—than the overwhelming clamor online.
Four peak-level powerhouses had gathered in East Sea. Two had fallen.
Zang Xin. Cao Dezhi.
Ordinary people had no way of grasping what those two names truly meant within the Federation's military system.
But the ripples spreading outward after their deaths—
Every one of them struck at the most vulnerable parts of human civilization.
At Tang Sect Headquarters, the lights in the conference hall had been on all night.
The two empty chairs at the end of the long table resembled two silent coffins.
Some had reddened eyes. Some clenched their fists until their knuckles turned white.
More simply stared in silence at the two Tang Sect command tokens on the table, belonging to Zang Xin and Cao Dezhi.
Cao Dezhi's communication channel had turned gray in an instant.
Every officer and soldier of the Blood God Legion received that icy system notification at the same time.
No one spoke.
Millions of unread messages flooded the legion's internal channels like snowflakes, yet not a single person made a sound.
Sixty years.
That man had guarded the edge of the Frozen Abyss in the Far North Endless Mountains for sixty years.
He had ventured deep into the Abyss Plane eight times. The information he brought back filled three entire top-secret archives, every document soaked in blood.
From top to bottom, the Blood God Legion had grown accustomed to that quiet, expressionless man who always stood in the most dangerous place.
Blood One.
That was the only name they used for Cao Dezhi.
While he was alive, no one thought there was anything remarkable about it.
Some had even secretly complained that he was too cold and