Qian Daoliu's gaze swept over the ruins outside the Angel Hotel. Amid the rubble, several healing Soul Masters from Spirit Hall carefully lifted injured civilians onto stretchers. The groans of the wounded mingled with children's cries, casting a pall over Spirit City that morning.
His fingertips tightened slightly, and a trace of coldness flashed through his golden eyes. His voice was heavy:
"Destroying everything at will with his own strength, without a care whether civilians live or die-Tang Hao's conduct truly disgraces Tang Chen."
Back when Tang Chen had swept across the continent, he had been proud and aloof, but he had never attacked the innocent. What Tang Hao had done now simply trampled the Clear Sky Sect's illustrious name underfoot.
Qian Xunji stood beside him, looking at the devastation before them, his brows drawn into a tight knot:
"You're right, Father. And it's not just Tang Hao. Plenty of Soul Masters, nobles, and even sects across the continent think that having strength or authority lets them disregard the rules. Take those nobles who oppress civilians, seize their land, and squeeze them dry, treating their lives like worthless weeds. Then there are sects that attack smaller powers over the slightest disagreement when competing for resources, with no regard whatsoever for order in the Soul Master World."
He paused, his voice growing more solemn:
"These people always think that possessing soul power and wielding authority places them above the rules. But they forget that a Soul Master's strength is meant to protect, not bully, and a noble's authority is meant to govern, not oppress. If this continues, sooner or later they'll throw the continent's order into chaos. And when that happens, it'll still be the defenseless civilians who suffer."
Qian Daoliu raised his head and looked toward the towering Angel God