The Demon Empress arrived abruptly and departed even more decisively.

Watching him withdraw so resolutely, Bibi Dong—shielded behind Qian Renxue—had purple-black eyes roiling with hatred and chill so intense they seemed nearly tangible.

She clenched the Rakshasa Scythe in her hand so hard her knuckles went white.

So close.

She had almost been taken by the Demon Empress’s sneak attack. This humiliation—this debt—was something she would never simply let go.

If not for her own poor condition at this moment, the tangled situation before her, and powerful enemies on all sides, she would have chased him at any cost and hacked into pieces that wretch who dared profane divine might.

Yet reality was that she’d just been saved by her own daughter. And that Lu Jingming—who with a single sentence had forced the Demon Empress to retreat—left her quietly alarmed by his unfathomable depths.

An unprecedented sense of frustration and loss of control gnawed at her heart like a venomous snake.

All her life she had strode across the world, calculating all beneath heaven—when had she ever suffered such repeated setbacks and… charity?

Lu Jingming didn’t spare the departing Demon Empress another glance. His eyes swept the gathered crowd and finally settled on Bibi Dong, whose aura was unstable and eyes were complicated. The corner of his mouth seemed to lift in an almost imperceptible arc.

He drew his gaze back and turned to Qian Renxue, that same light, unruffled smile on his face:

“Sister Xue, I’ll leave the Empress to you.”

Qian Renxue looked at Lu Jingming, nodded slightly, then turned to the unstable, cold-eyed Bibi Dong behind her.

The mother and daughter’s eyes met in the air. There was no warmth in it—only the frost and estrangement of over twenty years, and emotions too tangled to put into words.

“Come with me.”

Qian Renxue’s voice was calm, yet hid deep undercurrents.

“It’s time we settled things between us.”

Bibi Dong’s expression paused; a flash of astonishment crossed her eyes, then turned to mockery.

She cast a cold glance at Jing Yuan, Xiao Wu, and Huo Yuhao—who had just had his body returned by Electrolux and was clearly unwell.

Reason told her that in her injured state there was no chance of victory facing three god-level beings at once, plus Lu Jingming’s inscrutable group.

What’s more, Qian Renxue’s stance was already clear—she would not take Bibi Dong’s side.

More importantly, that one word “settle” from Qian Renxue was like a needle piercing the tautest string in Bibi Dong’s heart.

Between them, there did indeed need to be a final reckoning—be it hatred, neglect, or those forcibly repressed and twisted feelings.

“Fine.”

Bibi Dong’s voice was ice-cold, bearing the pride of the Rakshasa God and a hint of burn-the-boat resolve.

“I want to see just what you intend to do.”

Receiving her assent, Qian Renxue said no more and inclined her head to Lu Jingming in a slight nod.

Then golden divine light surged around her. With a casual sweep of the Angelic Holy Sword, she tore open a stable space passage.

She didn’t look back at Bibi Dong and stepped straight through.

Bibi Dong snorted, suppressing the churning of her blood and the numbness in her soul inflicted by electromagnetic force. Gripping the Rakshasa Scythe, she followed without hesitation.

Purple-black malice and resplendent golden light vanished together into the end of the space corridor, leaving only ripples that slowly sealed.

The grievances between these two were beyond others’ intervention and judgment.

Whether the result would be reconciliation or a complete break, one thing was certain: the paranoid, frenzied Rakshasa God, Bibi Dong, would no longer rule the Spirit Empire as its Empress.

Not only because Lu Jingming would not allow it, but because Qian Renxue already possessed both the strength and resolve to take her place.

Watching the two deities depart, Lu Jingming treated it as a trivial matter and easily turned his gaze to the remaining few.

His eyes fell first on Jing Yuan. With a faintly playful smile, he spoke: “Should I call you General, or Senior Brother?”

Jing Yuan was clearly taken aback.

In those golden eyes that always held a lazy smile, a hint of surprise flashed. His gaze drifted instinctively to Jingliu, whose expression was as cold as falling snow, by Lu Jingming’s side.

In an instant, he seemed to understand; surprise turned to realization, and then to a more genuine smile.

The formation-blade in his hand faded away. He waved with nonchalance. “So it’s Junior Brother.”

His tone was light, natural.

“No need to get hung up on the Xianzhou’s formalities. Just call me Senior Brother. In this world, there’s no Divine Strategist General—only Jing Yuan.”

That simple exchange revealed their connection—disciples of the same master.

With that link, much of the potential estrangement due to unclear stances dissolved.

Xiao Wu, however, felt none of that ease.

Her pink eyes were full of vigilance, especially fixed on Jingliu and Gu Yuena.

Jingliu felt like a peerless murderous blade sheathed in invisible scabbard—unstated, but with a hint of ultimate edge and killing intent that set Xiao Wu’s very soul trembling.

Even more oppressive, at the level of life’s instinct, was Gu Yuena.

That was suppression from the source of bloodline itself—absolute dominance of a superior over an inferior.

Though Xiao Wu had become a god and her life level had transformed, her root remained tied to soul beast blood.

Gu Yuena, the Silver Dragon King—the half of the Dragon God and sovereign of soul beasts—bore a bloodline representing the supreme authority and majesty over all soul beasts under heaven.

Before that draconic might, Xiao Wu felt as if stripped of her divine raiment, reverting to that weak little Soft Bone Rabbit. Instinctively she tensed up and edged closer to Huo Yuhao, seeking a shred of safety.

As for Electrolux, after confirming the greatest threat—Bibi Dong—had left, the god-level power he’d forced into motion via the Herrscher core finally reached its limit.

Control of Huo Yuhao’s body was returned silently; Electrolux’s exhausted spiritual sense sank once more into the depths of Huo Yuhao’s spiritual sea to repair and slumber.

With his body his own again, Huo Yuhao’s eyes were a blank, bewildered void.

Though sealed by his second personality deep within, he had perceived all that had happened outside as a bystander inside his own mind—clear as day, viscerally felt.

He saw himself join the evil Holy Spirit Cult, pitted against his former companions and Shrek Academy.

Saw himself command an Undead, slaughtering the living.

Saw himself lure and coerce his senior brother, Bei Bei—who had treated him like a younger sibling—using the Blue Silver Emperor soul bone, forcing Bei Bei to betray his principles, soil his hands with blood, and fall into endless darkness… Each act was a red-hot dagger sawing at his soul, bringing endless pain and self-loathing.

Though the second personality killed Dai Huabin—indirectly avenging his mother, bringing a twisted flicker of satisfaction to his darkest corner—this was immediately drowned by a greater surge of guilt and self-negation.

Huo Yuhao was momentarily mentally adrift.

Lu Jingming’s calm gaze fell upon the desolate Huo Yuhao. The corner of his mouth lifted in an ambiguous smile, breaking the silence.

“Long time no see, Huo Yuhao.”

“From the look of you, you’re lost—can’t find a way between your sins and yourself, can you?”

Huo Yuhao slowly raised his head. Focus finally returned to his empty eyes. He recognized the man before him and answered hoarsely, “Lu Jingming…”

They hadn’t crossed paths much, but Huo Yuhao knew well this man’s mystery and power.

Lu Jingming ignored the complexity in his tone and dropped words that shook Huo Yuhao to the core:

“I know you’re lost right now. But if I told you your mother, Huo Yun’er—her soul still exists, and you have a chance to revive her—would you still be lost?”

The words exploded like thunder in Huo Yuhao’s skull.

“What did you say?!”

His eyes flew wide; his body trembled violently with extreme emotion.

Guilt toward Bei Bei and Tang Ya, guilt for what his second personality had done, confusion about the future—all of it was blown to pieces by that earth-shattering news, thrown beyond the ninth heaven.

His mother—that eternal pain and longing in his heart—still had hope of revival?!

“You heard me right.”

Lu Jingming’s tone was firm, each word crisp.

“Your mother’s soul hasn’t dissipated. It still exists, intact.”

As he spoke, his gaze flicked—perhaps intentionally—toward Xiao Wu.

In this world, death isn’t an absolute end. As long as the soul exists, life and death can be reversed.

Xiao Wu standing there was the most vivid example.

“My mother… Where is she? Tell me—where is she?!”

Huo Yuhao could no longer suppress the tide inside. He forgot the disparity in strength, forgot potential dangers. Like a drowning man seeing the only light in the darkness, he lunged toward Lu Jingming, desperate to seize that hope.

He had heard the story of Seagod Tang San and longed for those words. Now that longing burned into a blazing thirst.

Shing!

In the next moment, a purple scythe wreathed in deathly silence and a long green sword burning with tranquil fire crossed before Huo Yuhao.

Castorice and Firefly stood like two insurmountable walls, silently restraining his impulse.

Their cold killing intent and blazing warning snapped Huo Yuhao back to his senses.

He halted, drew a deep breath, forced himself to calm down—but the urgency and pleading in his eyes did not fade. He stared fixedly at Lu Jingming:

“Tell me. As long as you tell me where my mother’s soul is, I’ll do anything—pay any price.”

Lu Jingming’s answer once again caught him off guard.

“Price? I don’t need any price from you.”

Lu Jingming’s lips quirked with a lightness bordering on mischief.

“Your mother’s soul is in the hands of Seagod Tang San. Want to get her back? Simple. Go to the God Realm, find Tang San, and… take her back from him.”

“Seagod… Tang San?!”

Huo Yuhao was thunderstruck, stunned.

He had imagined countless possibilities—a wicked soul master, some hidden faction—but never that the soul of his mother had been taken by the legendary Seagod.

Seeing his shock and confusion, Lu Jingming lobbed another heavy bomb:

“Huo Yuhao, have you really never wondered? How someone like you—an ordinary person—had such heaven-defying luck? A million-year soul beast delivered to your door. A spiritual consciousness from another world… It’s like every good thing under the sun fell on your head.”

“You… What do you mean? And how do you know so much?!”

Huo Yuhao’s doubts peaked. Lu Jingming’s words seemed to peel back a veil he’d long ignored.

“Why I know isn’t your concern.”

Lu Jingming’s tone carried a hint of imperious detachment. At this point, why should he explain himself?

“What you should really care about is why Seagod Tang San took your mother’s soul.”

“Why?” As expected, Huo Yuhao followed the lead at once. Anything concerning his mother eclipsed all else.

“Because you were originally the child of fate for the Douluo Continent, all but destined to become a god.”

Lu Jingming unveiled the truth.

“But Tang San’s position in the God Realm is not as secure as it appears. He needs helpers—but ones who obey absolutely, under his control. Your mother’s soul is one of the shackles he uses to bind you and ensure you follow his every command.”

He paused, took in the sudden pallor of Huo Yuhao’s face, and added:

“Of course, due to certain variables, you are no longer the favored child of Douluo’s fate. But that’s meaningless to you. What matters is that to save your mother, you must have power enough to storm the God Realm. In your current state you can’t even unify your own strength—deification is a long shot, let alone taking someone from a God King.”

Lu Jingming’s eyes deepened:

“So accept reality, Huo Yuhao. Sit down with the other you—your second personality—and with Electrolux. Learn to coexist, even integrate. Unite your powers. And… the bloodline power Hoolay left you—use that as well. I want to see how far you can go.”

“Why tell me this? What’s your goal?”

Huo Yuhao looked up at Lu Jingming, trying to read his face.

Lu Jingming smiled with a detached, almost amused interest:

“I just think that if you take this surprise and charge into the God Realm to stand before that calculating Seagod, the scene… will be very entertaining.”

His gaze swept over Xiao Wu again, pointedly.

Perhaps this surprise could be made even bigger.

He bore no malice—he merely wanted a good show.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep