But what truly filled Ling Canghai with despair was that from his split-second glance in the air, he’d seen at least a hundred such Tramplers—if each one had this level of power, the situation was terrifying beyond words!

“Retreat! Break out to the east!”

Clutching his bleeding chest, Ling Canghai forced himself up and led the survivors to charge toward a weaker point.

By contrast, the weaker sects and academies had already fallen into dire straits.

One academy team led by only two Soul Sages was cornered at a street junction by over a dozen Trampers.

Their defensive skills were like paper before the Trampers’ blades—screams rose one after another.

Suddenly, several beams of eerie blue energy shot from the shadows and struck the two Soul Sages with precision—Voidranger’s long-range sniping. Hit, the Soul Sages stiffened and were then torn apart by the swarming Trampers.

“Phoenix Roars at the Sky!”

Ma Xiaotao plunged into the fray like a mass of living flame. Phoenix Truefire became a giant firebird, engulfing dozens of Voidsoldiers.

The heat warped space; the Voidsoldiers screeched as their black shells dripped and melted, exposing writhing negative-energy cores within.

Even so, they crawled forward aflame, trying to pounce on nearby civilians.

“Troublesome pests.”

Ma Xiaotao snorted coldly. The phoenix wings at her back unfurled, and the fire’s intensity surged severalfold.

This time, the firebird lanced through the Voidsoldiers’ bodies and ignited their cores utterly.

Artoria shielded Nan Qiuqiu behind her, lifting Excalibur slowly.

Brilliant tracery flowed across the blade like living veins, gathering into a pillar of light that pierced the heavens.

“Excalibur!”

With her low shout, the beam crashed down like a falling star, instantly vaporizing every Voidsoldier along the street into particles and carving a vacuum corridor hundreds of meters long through the dense enemy ranks.

“Move! Follow the lighted path and break out!”

Nan Qiuqiu shouted to nearby civilians, but chaos had already destroyed reason—people fled in blind panic.

“Teacher…” Bai XiuXiu hid behind Skirk, face white as she watched a Voidsoldier rip a fleeing family of three to pieces.

Skirk looked over the ever-expanding battlefield, a complicated look in her eyes.

She flicked her hand; killing cold spread out, freezing over a hundred Voidsoldiers into ice sculptures.

“Save who we can.”

Her voice was soft as she conjured dozens of ice lances at her fingertips, spearing Voidsoldiers who tried to ambush civilians.

But as her gaze swept over the continuously tearing rifts, she knew this was a drop in the bucket.

From the direction of Mingde Hall, soul tool cannon fire thundered in volleys—then quickly grew sparse.

A Trampler emerging from a rift swatted casually and smashed a three-story soul tool turret to scrap.

Its chest spewed a black energy wave that swept like a tide; an entire street became scorched earth in an instant, and the dozens of soul engineers behind the turret were obliterated without time to scream.

“Wretch!”

Ma Xiaotao roared and charged, Phoenix Truefire behind her condensing into a solid body to crash head-on into the energy wave.

Boom!

The deafening blast blossomed into a mushroom cloud of flame and darkness. Ma Xiaotao staggered back repeatedly, blood seeping from the corner of her mouth.

She wiped it away; battle-intent burned hotter in her eyes. “Interesting. Again!”

…

On a high platform outside the command tent, Ju Zi stared at the pillars of fire rising over Mingdu, her nails digging into her palms until beads of blood welled.

The Command Spells on her hand lit again with an eerie red glow—and with her motion, dozens more spatial rifts tore open across Mingdu, disgorging more Voidsoldiers like a flood.

“No… please don’t…”

She trembled all over, tears finally spilling down.

An unseen force was controlling her body. Each time the Command Spell flared, it felt like a knife carving at her heart.

The message she sent Lu Jingming had been her last struggle. She didn’t know what else she could do—she could only watch as the prosperous city turned into a purgatory at her own hands.

Fire Phoenix Douluo Luan Feng still guarded the tent entrance. Her Fire Phoenix Sword trembled violently, the phoenix motif on the blade flaring and dimming, humming with restless protest.

In her crimson eyes, humanity and bestial fury were tearing at each other. Moments ago, she had almost broken the control, but the brand Celenova had left in the depths of her soul suddenly flared, burning her nearly to oblivion.

Now, her pupils were being swallowed bit by bit by pitch black.

In a pocket dimension, the Lord Ravager Celenova hovered quiet amid the stars.

White hair brushed a pale cheek as she gazed down at the carnage of Mingdu reflected in a water-mirror below. No ripple of emotion stirred in her hollow eyes.

At her feet, a black stellar ring slowly revolved, as if absorbing some invisible power.

This destruction wasn’t a random slaughter, but a precise purification—soul power unleashed in battle, surging fear, even the wails of the dying were quietly being siphoned by the ring and converted into nourishment for her strength.

The night sky over Mingdu had been dyed wholly red by fire. Screams, explosions, and clashes of energy wove into a requiem of despair.

No one knew when this disaster would end. Fewer still could imagine how terrifying it would be when the Lord Ravager herself took the field.

In a shadowed alley, reeking, clotted blood trickled along the base of the wall.

Draped in black, Zhongli Wu stared fixedly with crimson eyes at the bodies falling in the street, his knuckles white from the force of his grip.

The elders of the Holy Spirit Cult fanned out, each holding a soul tool gleaming with eerie light—yet none of them moved. The souls that should have spilled free were, at the instant of death, vanishing into motes of light that dissipated into the air, leaving not the faintest remnant behind.

“That’s impossible…”

A wicked soul master elder’s voice shook. The soul-devouring bottle in his hand was empty. “Even if those monsters killed them, there should still be souls left!”

Zhongli Wu whipped his head around, face twisted with rage beneath the hood. Mingdu’s tens of millions, plus the strong gathered for the tournament, should have been a feast the Holy Spirit Cult hadn’t seen in a century!

He had planned to harvest a vast sea of souls in the wake of the Antimatter Legion’s slaughter, to cultivate his evil arts and even break through to Ultimate Douluo.

But now, it was like someone was snatching food from his mouth—every delicacy was vanishing into thin air.

“Which bastard is behind this?!”

Zhongli Wu roared. His soul power surged; blood-red mist billowed like waves. “Find them! Turn the city upside down if you have to—drag that soul-thieving rat into the light!”

He refused to believe someone could steal souls right under the noses of evil soul masters—unless it was a top expert in space or soul arts.

…

On a rooftop, the night wind tugged at Lu Jingming’s robes.

He calmly overlooked the hellscape below. His gaze passed over the panicked masses and settled on the fearless Antimatter Legion.

A thread of soul power twined at his fingertip, quivering—the feedback from his mental link with the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. The leyline network was stable; the dreamscape had already sheltered over fifty thousand souls.

“Sometimes you have to keep a bottom line. I don’t want to lose my humanity.”

Lu Jingming murmured.

He could clearly sense the souls being drawn into the dreamspace. They slumbered there, like sinking into a peaceful dream, waiting for the day they could return to the light.

The restorative power of the Black Abyss White Flower and the nascent divinity of the Life Godhood flowed gently within him. Combined, they could restore broken bodies to life—provided the soul was preserved.

His eyes shifted to the soul masters falling in battle. His gaze didn’t waver.

War was cruel; death was inevitable. He could not resurrect everyone—resurrecting soul masters would cost even more.

But civilians were different. They were the most innocent sacrifices in this disaster—and the line he refused to cross.

“Celenova’s appearance was an accident, but I’m the one who started the Holy Grail War. This mess is mine to clean up.”

Lu Jingming muttered.

…

Deep in the imperial palace of Mingdu, a rich medicinal scent permeated a lavish bedchamber.

A middle-aged emperor lay on a bed of golden nanmu, chest rising weakly, face flushed with a sickly heat.

The gilt incense burner by the bed had long since burned out, leaving only cold ash.

Xu Tiannan sat in a wheelchair, pale fingers tapping the armrest, the crisp sound harsh in the silence.

The explosions and screams from outside seemed distant. His face remained utterly calm, marked by an eerie placidity.

“As expected—just as she predicted.”

A cold smile tugged at Xu Tiannan’s mouth. “That ‘agreement’ was nothing but dust in the Lord Ravager’s eyes.”

He had never truly trusted Celenova. Cooperation with the Lord Ravager had always been a stopgap.

The chaos in Mingdu—and even the sacrifice of millions—were only parts of his plan: use a single cataclysm to scramble every faction’s board and seize a chance to break the game.

“Unify the Douluo Continent?”

Xu Tiannan sneered, a flash of disdain in his eyes. “Stand atop the continent and a hundred years later you’re still dust. In the eyes of gods, what are you but ants?”

His gaze burned, twin flames in his eyes. “Only eternal life—only godhood—is the ultimate path!”

He had long since wagered everything for that goal.

Colluding with the Holy Spirit Cult, tolerating the Antimatter Legion’s slaughter of his citizens, even twisting his own martial soul—he had done it all for the “godhood” promised by his mysterious Servant.

A being even more unfathomable than Celenova, yet far better at “deals.”

“No madness, no life…”

Xu Tiannan stroked the dragon carving on his chair’s armrest. “What of ten thousand years with no one ascending to godhood? I, Xu Tiannan, will carve a different path!”

Even if the price was turning the entire Sun–Moon Empire to scorched earth, he would not hesitate.

“You’re insane!”

A cold voice spoke from behind. Kong Deming stepped from the shadows, silver hair glinting in the dim light.

The Sun–Moon Empire’s sole rank-10 soul engineer wore a deep frown, pain in his eyes.

He looked at Xu Tiannan’s back as if at a stranger—a monster.

He could tolerate Xu Tiannan’s ambition, even his iron-fisted methods to consolidate power. But he could not accept anyone treating the lives of millions as weeds.

Every scream from Mingdu struck him like a hammer blow.

“Insane?”

Xu Tiannan slowly turned his chair, a mild smile still on his face, as if making small talk about the weather. “Perhaps. But Elder Kong, aren’t you also a prisoner bound by ‘principle’?”

To him, Kong Deming’s adherence to “non-interference with the royal family” and “defending the Sun–Moon Empire” was myopic.

A true strongman should break every shackle—even if it meant shattering hell—to reach the summit.

“My intuition tells me I must kill you.”

Kong Deming’s voice was low and steady, soul power beginning to surge around him. “Even if it means betraying the creed I’ve held all my life.”

He had always kept to his place—ignoring royal succession and power struggles, focused only on soul tool research.

But this time, a powerful sense of crisis left him no choice. Xu Tiannan’s madness would drag the entire Sun–Moon Empire into endless ruin.

“Silver Moon Divine Light Barrier!”

With a low shout, silver light burst forth, forming a vast crystal dome that sealed the entire bedchamber.

Space was locked tight—no energy could leak out. This was the rank-10 soul tool he had poured half his life into, a space-type masterpiece that let his rank-95 cultivation contend with Ultimate Douluo or even demi-gods.

“So, you really are set on this.”

Xu Tiannan’s smile faded. Several dark figures flickered from the shadows to stand before him.

At their head was Shadow Douluo Xue Chen, a Title Douluo wreathed in dense shadow, eyes cold as he fixed on Kong Deming.

“Elder Kong, forgive our rudeness.”

Xue Chen bowed slightly, but his stance was iron-hard. “The Regent is the future of the Sun–Moon Empire. No one may harm him.”

Behind him, several Title Douluo released their soul rings. Yellow, purple, and black rings interlaced in a glare that was blinding within the Silver Moon Barrier.

Did they not know of Xu Tiannan’s madness?

They had no choice.

The mysterious Servant’s intimidation hung like a sword above. The army’s rank-9 soul engineer corps commanders who had tried to resist were now thoughtless puppets, sent to the front lines as cannon fodder.

Rather than share that fate, they gambled on Xu Tiannan winning. At least he had promised a stronger empire.

“You…”

Kong Deming frowned deeply at the loyalists still standing with Xu Tiannan.

He hadn’t expected Xu Tiannan to still have diehards at this point.

“Elder Kong, take Tianzhen and go.”

Xu Tiannan spoke suddenly, a rare weariness in his tone. “Leave Mingdu. Never come back.”

Xu Tianzhen—his innocent little sister—was perhaps the last clean thread in the royal bloodline.

As for the ailing father on the bed and other kin… on his road to godhood, they were nothing but dust.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep