The council hall.
The Papal Palace was especially lively that day. The reason Bibi Dong had not immediately found fault was that outsiders were present, making it awkward for her to flare up.
What should have been an ordinary meeting had become full of twists and turns because it involved Spirit Hall's internal strife. Nothing was going smoothly, and Bibi Dong was quite angry.
Her full bosom rose and fell, and her beautiful eyes, once shimmering with radiance, were now coated in frost. As she swept her gaze over the elders present, the air grew tense. Affected by this, everyone fell as silent as cicadas in winter.
Under Spirit Hall's rules, even Platinum Bishops at the Soul Douluo level were not qualified to enter the Elder Hall.
As an institution with real power second only to the Worship Hall, its sole hard requirement for admission was reaching Titled Douluo. Even someone whose hands and eyes reached the heavens could forget about getting through the door without meeting that condition.
Level 90 was an impassable chasm for so many Soul Masters. Even figures as powerful as the four great Platinum Bishops could only halt before it, gazing up at that lofty mountain.
But as far as Lin Qian knew, the Elder Hall alone had as many as nine elders, and even the lowest-ranked ninth elder had Soul Power as high as Rank 91.
That did not even include the seven in the Worship Hall. After all, the entry threshold for every Enshrined Elder was above Rank 96.
After reaching Titled Douluo, advancing each rank was like climbing over a great mountain, each higher than the last. Without a lucky opportunity, it was all for nothing.
Lin Qian, who had been stuck as a Rank 92 Titled Douluo for several years, declared,