That old bastard had meddled in mortal affairs again and again. At Clear Sky Peak, he had possessed Tang Hao and ambushed her disciple. Now he had snatched someone away in full view of everyone. In his eyes, a God King's dignity was probably worth less than scrap paper.
She slowly withdrew the Rakshasa Demon Scythe. The anger on her face lasted only a moment before calm returned.
So be it. The Asura God King could save Tang San, but he could not erase the fact of his crushing defeat.
She knew better than anyone the price of Nine Soul Rings Detonation—even if the Asura God King personally kept him alive, he could not possibly recover in less than several years.
A ruined pawn posed little threat.
And that old man Tang Chen was just another of the Asura God King's pawns. Sooner or later, she would settle accounts with him too.
She looked away from where the rift had vanished and swept her gaze across the arena once more.
The spectators were still reeling from the enormous hand that had blotted out the sky. Whispers rose and fell, but no one dared raise their voice.
Bibi Dong lifted a hand. The Pope's authority pressed down like an invisible mountain, and the entire crowd fell silent.
Her voice was cool and commanding, each word striking like a hammer against metal:
"The champion of this year's Continental Advanced Soul Master Tournament—Spirit Hall's team."
"And now, I declare—we will destroy Slaughter City!"
Bibi Dong's voice exploded over Spirit Hall's square like thunder. The spectators, who had been cheering the victory moments before, fell silent at once.
Destroy Slaughter City.
The words were brief, but they hit like a boulder dropped into a lake, sending waves of shock through the crowd.
Who on