Holy Son

A deathly silence fell.

Old Li lay facedown in the mud, his legs shaking like sieves, not daring to raise his head.

Bibi Dong's icy gaze swept over the crowd as her scepter lightly tapped the ground.

"Deliver my decree."

"Everything that happened at the orphanage today is to be classified as Spirit Hall's highest secret. Anyone who dares breathe a single word of it to the outside will be killed without pardon."

Ghost Douluo's figure flickered, transforming into a cloud of black mist that hovered in the air. Chilling killing intent instantly shrouded the entire courtyard, coating even the weeds by the walls in frost.

Old Li knocked his head against the ground with loud thuds until the skin on his forehead split open.

"Rest assured, Your Holiness! Today, this lowly one was blind and deaf! I saw nothing and heard nothing!"

The young orphans had long since huddled in the corner, clutching one another and covering their mouths, too terrified to even cry aloud.

Bibi Dong withdrew her gaze and turned toward the short-haired boy standing at the center of the formation.

The domineering pressure that had looked down upon the world earlier eased somewhat, replaced by a rare hint of appreciation in her eyes.

"Su Chen."

"Here."

"Are you willing to take me as your master?"

The moment those words came out, Chrysanthemum Douluo's eyes widened, and even the orchid-like gesture he held trembled.

Her Holiness the Pope was actually taking a disciple herself? This was the first time in decades for Spirit Hall!

Su Chen kept both hands in his pockets, without the slightest trace of being overwhelmed by the honor. He studied the woman who held power over the world before him.

"What are the benefits of becoming your disciple? Does the Papal Hall provide meals?"

Chrysanthemum Douluo failed to catch his breath and immediately pointed at Su Chen's nose, cursing loudly.

"Impudent! Becoming Her Holiness the Pope's personal disciple is an honor that countless Soul Scholars across the continent would not dare dream of! Yet all you care about is whether you'll be fed? You truly don't know the immensity of heaven and earth!"

Bibi Dong raised a hand, stopping Chrysanthemum Douluo before he could flare up.

"Not only will meals be provided, but they will be of the highest standard on the continent. Spirit Hall's treasury will be open for you to choose from."

"From today onward, you are Spirit Hall's Holy Son."

"Your status will stand above all elders. You need not bow when meeting red-robed bishops, and you may mobilize any of Spirit Hall's non-war resources at any time."

Chrysanthemum Douluo sucked in a cold breath and could not help stepping forward.

"Your Holiness! The position of Holy Son is of great importance. Shouldn't we at least notify the Hall of Consecrated Elders first? If the Grand Consecrated Elder takes offense..."

Bibi Dong's eyes turned cold as she glanced at Chrysanthemum Douluo.

"In Spirit Hall, the rules I make are the rules."

Before her words had faded.

A dazzling golden light suddenly erupted from the sacred hall at the highest point of Wuhun City.

An aura several times more terrifying than even the Pope's pressure crossed space like a tidal wave and descended directly above the orphanage.

The dark clouds that had just dispersed were instantly torn apart by the golden light.

Old Li rolled his eyes and fainted on the spot.

Chrysanthemum Douluo and Ghost Douluo simultaneously dropped to one knee, their expressions horrified as cold sweat beaded on their foreheads.

The Grand Consecrated Elder, Qian Daoliu!

A solemn, aged voice exploded through the air, shaking everyone's eardrums painfully.

"Bibi Dong, how can you decide the position of Spirit Hall's Holy Son on your own?"

"You would place an unknown six-year-old child above all the elders? What do you take Spirit Hall's rules for?"

Along with that rebuke, the vast golden pressure solidified into substance and crashed precisely toward Su Chen's head like Mount Tai bearing down.

This was a show of force.

A dignified Peerless Douluo had actually lowered himself to pressure a six-year-old child.

As long as Su Chen could not endure it and fell to his knees, the title of Holy Son would become a colossal joke, and the authority of the Hall of Consecrated Elders would once again overshadow the Papal Hall.

Bibi Dong's face chilled as soul power surged around her. She was about to move and block the pressure.

A small hand tugged at the corner of her robe.

Su Chen stepped forward, shielding Bibi Dong behind him. He raised his head and stared directly at the dazzling sphere of golden light.

"Teacher, when it comes to learning rules, it's better to experience them firsthand."

Bibi Dong froze.

The golden pressure crashed down with a roar, completely enveloping Su Chen's small body.

Heavy. Suffocating.

It felt as though countless blades were slicing through his skin, intent on crushing his spine alive.

Su Chen did not resist. Instead, he slowly closed his eyes.

[Ding!]

The mechanical voice arrived in his mind as expected.

[Facing the cleansing pressure of a Peerless Douluo, combined with the Supreme Guidance Art, enlightenment successful!]

[Self-created force-dissipation technique: Star Transposition!]

The twelve primary meridians he had just opened began operating at high speed.

Spiritual energy formed tiny vortices within his meridians.

The golden pressure pressing in from outside was swiftly drawn, sliced apart, and dispersed by those vortices the moment it touched Su Chen's body.

It flowed through the meridians in his legs and entirely into the soil beneath his feet.

Boom!

The ground beneath Su Chen's feet cracked at a visible rate, spiderweb-like fissures spreading more than ten meters in every direction.

Mud flew everywhere, along with scraps of grass.

Yet the boy standing at the heart of those cracks remained upright as a pine, without bending his knees even the slightest bit.

Su Chen opened his eyes and looked toward the Hall of Consecrated Elders. A mocking smile curled his lips.

"Old man, at your age, you're hiding in the back and bullying a child. Aren't you afraid people will laugh at you if word gets out?"

Silence.

A silence as dead as death itself.

The golden light in the air fluctuated violently. Even that lofty being seemed incredulous at what he had witnessed.

Six years old, freshly awakened.

Yet he had withstood the probing pressure of a Peerless Douluo head-on!

Even if it was merely a wisp of Qian Daoliu's aura, it was not something a level-ten Soul Scholar could possibly endure.

The domineering golden light did not intensify further. After circling in the air for a moment, it slowly receded like a tide.

The sky returned to calm.

Bibi Dong drew a deep breath. An indescribably complicated emotion appeared in her gaze as she looked at Su Chen.

The temperament this child had displayed was even more frightening than his astonishingly efficient cultivation art. Calm in danger, stronger when facing the strong. This was the bearing a Holy Son of Spirit Hall should possess.

"Elder Chrysanthemum, Elder Ghost."

"Your subordinates are here!" The two hurriedly rose.

"Clean this place up."

"Su Chen, come back to the Papal Hall with me."

Su Chen shrugged, kept his hands in his pockets, and leisurely followed behind Bibi Dong toward the most central building in Wuhun City.

Neither spoke along the way.

The Papal Hall.

The carved gates slowly closed.

Only the two of them remained within the vast hall.

With no outsiders present, the cold facade that kept strangers away seemed to fall away from Bibi Dong almost entirely.

A faint, barely perceptible weariness showed on that stunningly beautiful face.

Bibi Dong climbed the high steps and sat upon the Papal throne that symbolized supreme authority, reaching up to rub her brow.

"The Grand Consecrated Elder's test was only the beginning."

"Many people have their eyes on the position of Holy Son. From now on, there will be no shortage of open attacks and hidden schemes in Spirit Hall. Are you afraid?"

Su Chen unhurriedly climbed the steps. When he reached the side of the Papal throne, he did not look at Bibi Dong. Instead, he stared intently at her shadow beneath the throne.

The hall was brightly lit.

Yet within the shadow of the Papal throne, a cloud of dark-purple mist faintly churned.

That mist was laced with savagery, greed, resentment, and a nauseating stench of blood.

This aura absolutely did not belong to Bibi Dong's own soul power.

As though alive, the dark-purple mist slowly crept upward from Bibi Dong's ankle.

Bibi Dong's brows instantly knitted together. Her exquisite features twisted slightly with pain as both hands clenched the throne's armrests tightly.

Powerful soul power erupted from Bibi Dong's body as she tried to force the purple mist back down.

The two forces clashed fiercely within her body, and the temperature in the hall plummeted.

Su Chen stood at the side, quietly watching the scene.

Rakshasa Divine Sense.

That trash god hiding in the darkest corners of the Divine Realm had not only forcibly stuffed its inheritance into Bibi Dong, but had also left behind this malicious thought to torment the inheritor's mind day and night.

What kind of divine inheritance was this? It was nothing but finding a puppet to vent its resentment on.

Back when he read the novel in his previous life, he had already thought the Rakshasa God was a piece of work. Now that he saw his newly appointed teacher being tortured by this thing with his own eyes, a cold sneer rose in Su Chen's heart.

Wasn't it good enough to be a lofty god? Why insist on playing such disgusting games?

Su Chen lowered his eyes and silently calculated in his heart.

Since he had accepted the benefits of being Holy Son and acknowledged her as his teacher.

Then they would not put up with the Rakshasa God's crap any longer!

Once his cultivation improved a little more, he would observe something like the True Solar Flame or Pure Yang Divine Lightning and burn that Rakshasa malice until not even ash remained.

"Teacher." Su Chen suddenly spoke, breaking the silence in the hall.

Bibi Dong forcibly split off a sliver of focus. Fine beads of sweat had already formed on her forehead, and her voice was somewhat hoarse.

"What is it now?"

"I want roasted meat for dinner. Add extra cumin."

Bibi Dong froze. The pain in her body seemed to be interrupted for a moment by that utterly random nonsense.

Looking at the short-haired boy beside her, whose face was completely serious, the Pope's cold lips uncontrollably lifted into a tiny curve.

"Fine."