After the last wisp of clashing energy dissipated between heaven and earth, the battered sky finally cleared.
In a crater spanning half of Spirit City, Bibi Dong lay limp at the bottom. Not a trace of black demonic energy remained on her body, and the hideous Rakshasa divine markings on her skin had vanished completely.
Her face was as white as paper, and bloody froth kept seeping from her seven orifices. The domineering aura of Her Holiness the Pope of Spirit Hall, who had once awed the world, was utterly gone. She looked weak to the extreme.
Not far away, Qian Daoliu was in an equally miserable state.
All three pairs of his angelic divine wings had shattered. The brilliant golden light from his ascent to godhood had gone out completely. His body was stooped and aged, his vitality visibly draining at a frightening pace. Even hovering in the air took tremendous effort. Not a trace remained of the bearing of a true god walking the mortal world that he had possessed moments before.
A hundred li away, the Titled Douluo of Spirit Hall stared fixedly into the air. Utter silence blanketed the gathering; they did not even dare breathe too loudly.
After a long while, one Titled Douluo spoke in a tight, trembling voice, filled with disbelief. "They really... lost? That was His Holiness the Pope and the Great Enshrined fighting together!"
Another Titled Douluo, his face ashen, answered heavily, "His Holiness the Pope's Rakshasa divine power has been swept clean, and her cultivation has plummeted to rock bottom. The Great Enshrined's godhood projection has shattered. By the look of him, his lifespan has suffered terribly. Who knows how much longer he can hold on? Both pillars of our Spirit Hall have collapsed..."
At those words, panic gripped every