At the very center of the Douluo Hall stood a statue — a towering figure ten meters tall, cast entirely in radiant gold. Three pairs of wings spread wide behind its back, and in its raised hands it held a colossal golden sword pointed straight at the heavens. Most peculiar of all, a faint halo of golden flame seemed to spiral around the blade of that great sword.
In Spirit Hall's Elder Hall, a similar statue also stood, but compared to this one, if one were to ask what the difference between them was, the answer was simple: a soul.
Yes — the Elder Hall's statue, though equally massive, lacked a soul. The enormous statue before them now, however, radiated the unmistakable presence of the absolute pinnacle of power. Hundreds of Titled Douluo's golden name plaques hung around the hall, and under the weight of its aura, they slumbered peacefully.
This was the supreme sanctuary of all Soul Masters. Every Soul Master in the world regarded being able to set foot in the Douluo Hall as the greatest of honors, for it meant they had reached the rank of Titled Douluo. Only upon receiving their title would they ever be granted entry here.
In truth, the Douluo Hall had not been built by Spirit Hall. According to legend, it had existed long before Spirit Hall ever came into being. The earliest Spirit Hall had been founded under the banner of enshrining the Douluo Hall, gathering a group of powerful Soul Masters who revered it.
The Douluo Hall had a Hall Master — a person who must hold the Douluo Hall in the deepest respect. This master enshrined the golden name plaques of the Douluo and presided over the title-conferring ceremonies of every newly anointed Titled Douluo.
At this moment, before the enormous statue at the center of the Douluo Hall, a person knelt in silence. She was neither a Titled Douluo who had come to receive her title nor the Hall Master of this place. She held another identity entirely — and it was because of that identity that she was permitted to remain here, kneeling before the monumental statue of the Six-Winged Angel.
Waves of long hair cascaded down her back, reaching all the way to the floor. Her hands were held before her chest in a peculiar posture: thumbs hooked together, index fingers pressed side by side, while the remaining six fingers splayed outward on either side — as though mimicking the spread wings of the Six-Winged Angel.
Her delicate features were suffused with an expression of reverent devotion. Her eyes were closed, and around her body, a faint halo of light constantly shimmered.
This person was none other than Qian Renxue — the one who had been defeated by Tang San in the Tian Dou Empire's imperial palace over a decade ago, causing the failure of her long-term infiltration mission. She was the daughter of Spirit Hall's previous Supreme Pontiff.
She had been kneeling here for one hundred and eight days, without food or water.
"Has your heart finally found peace?" A voice — majestic and calm — echoed through the Douluo Hall.
Qian Renxue, who had become nearly indistinguishable from a statue herself, did not move, did not speak. She continued kneeling in perfect stillness, maintaining her original posture.
Golden light surged, and a figure appeared between her and the enormous statue at some unknowable moment. The figure gradually took shape, and the surrounding golden radiance grew noticeably more intense — especially around the colossal statue of the Six-Winged Angel itself. The great golden sword blazed with tongues of flame over a dozen feet long, filling the hall with an ineffable sense of sacred power.
The figure who had appeared before Qian Renxue was none other than Spirit Hall's Grand Enforcer, the Master of the Douluo Hall — Qian Daoliu. One of the three reigning ninety-ninth-ranked Titled Douluo in the world.
"Open your eyes." Qian Daoliu raised a finger, and the golden flame released by the great sword in the statue's grip descended from above, enveloping Qian Renxue's entire body.
The golden fire flowed and swirled. Under its radiance, Qian Renxue's body was gently drawn upward until she rose to her feet. The golden light remained unchanged, but before her eyes, nine luminous golden screens slowly materialized.
When Qian Daoliu saw those nine screens, a peculiar, wondrous gleam shone in his eyes. "The Nine Angel Tribulations… Nine tribulations. The nine tribulations that countless generations of Douluo Hall Masters have waited for have finally appeared."
Qian Renxue opened her eyes with what seemed considerable effort, gazing in confusion at her grandfather before her.
Qian Daoliu's gaze softened. "I was nearly seventy when your father was born, and your father was fifty when he had you. The one that every generation of Douluo Hall Masters has awaited… turns out to be you. Little Xue, your grandfather is proud of you."
Qian Renxue stared blankly at Qian Daoliu. "Grandfather, I don't understand what you mean." Perhaps because she had gone so long without speaking, her voice sounded strained.
Qian Daoliu smiled gently. "If the screens before you numbered eight, then you would be the next Hall Master of the Douluo Hall. But before you, there are nine screens. Do not ask why — when it is time for you to know, I will tell you. From this moment onward, for a very long time to come, you must complete nine tribulations bestowed by the Angel. Grandfather will be at your side throughout."
"Yes."
…
Papal Hall. The Supreme Pontiff's private chamber.
Bibi Dong, seated cross-legged in meditation, slowly opened her eyes. Had anyone been standing before her at that moment, they would have been horrified to discover that her eyes were entirely blood-red — a vivid crimson so intense it seemed as though droplets of blood might fall at any instant. On the fingers of both hands, she bore pitch-black nails each a full five inches long, forming a stark contrast against her fair skin.
Her features, once noble and exquisitely beautiful, now appeared twisted with a terrifying distortion. Dark traces of blood scored her face in jagged lines. Behind her, a formless black shadow hovered — its shape impossible to discern.
Bibi Dong opened her eyes and drew a deep breath. A layer of dark purple-black light rippled across her body, and the transformations gradually faded, restoring her original appearance. She only looked somewhat pale.
"Qian Daoliu, you are clever. To prevent me from devouring the descendant of your angel bloodline, you chose my daughter." A rapid cascade of explosive sounds crackled through the air around her body.
She rose gracefully into the air. Golden light shimmered, and the papal robes settled over her frame. Once again, she appeared as the noble, decisive Supreme Pontiff.
"So what if you let Little Xue inherit your position? The day will come when I will destroy the very foundation of your angel lineage. Qian Daoliu, you still underestimate me. From the moment I devoured your son's body and soul and transformed my cultivation to enter the Rakshasa's secret realm, you have no longer been able to see through me. I am only one final step away. The last step you could never complete in your lifetime — I will breach it within ten years at most. When that day comes, no one will be able to stop me from doing anything. Your son destroyed me, and in return, I will destroy everything belonging to your angel clan."
"Ha ha… ha ha ha ha ha…" A terrifying laugh, like the cry of a night owl, reverberated through the private chamber. The massive black shadow that had vanished moments before appeared once more behind Bibi Dong, flickering in and out of sight.
…
One month later.
A tearing sound split the air as bulging muscles ripped through fabric. Dai Mubai let out a tiger's roar and launched himself skyward, his supremely powerful body displaying incomparable, rippling musculature. Propelled by the tremendous rebounding force of the Sea God's Light, he soared upward. But the Dai Mubai of now was no longer the man who could not control his body against the Sea God's Light's pushback. In midair, he rotated twice, golden light flickered, and he landed with composed ease.
A full month had passed, and the Shrek Seven Devils had been cultivating here for the entire time.
Yet this single month had given them a sensation as though they had been transported to another world entirely. At present, their cultivation spot had moved up to the tenth step of the staircase leading to the Sea God's Temple. They trained right in the midst of the crushing pressure pressing in from every direction.
After a month, the Sea God's Light was still pressure for them — but it had also become their greatest pleasure. After all, when each day's training ended and they could clearly feel their Soul Power surging forward in leaps, no matter how crushing the pressure, that sense of accomplishment and growing strength could only be called enjoyment.
Apart from Tang San, Ma Hongjun, and the non-cultivating Xiao Wu, every remaining member had advanced one rank in Soul Power. This included Bai Chenxiang, who had already gained a rank when they first arrived. She had now reached the forty-eighth rank.
The results of cultivating within the Sea God's Light were enormous. The immense pressure served as the finest catalyst for training, and within the Sea God's Light, even sleeping caused the body's Soul Power to circulate on its own. How could the Shrek Seven Devils ever waste such precious time? A month of arduous effort, driven by the pleasure of constant improvement — not a single one of them complained. Through sheer force of will, their strength climbed steadily.
Moreover, they had gradually begun to adapt to the pressure of the Sea God's Light. The number of steps they could ascend rose sharply. Dai Mubai could now reach the sixtieth step under his own power. Tang San, pushing himself to the limit, could approach the eightieth.
For them, the most exhilarating experience was pushing their bodies to the breaking point by climbing the steps, then retreating to the lower tiers to cultivate. Though they could manage this no more than three times per day, those three rounds produced explosive leaps in Soul Power. Without that, such extraordinary results in a single month would have been impossible.
Cultivating within the Sea God's Light felt as though the Shrek Seven Devils had returned to the high-speed cultivation period when they had first gathered at Shrek Academy. At their current pace, over the course of this first tribulation's year, every one of them would rise at least six to seven ranks — perhaps more. Under normal cultivation, given their current levels, achieving comparable progress would have required at least three times as long.
Tang San's training was undoubtedly the most grueling, for he possessed a motivation no one else shared — not the Nine Sea God Tribulations, but Xiao Wu. To resurrect Xiao Wu as soon as possible, he would grant himself not a single moment of rest.
Every day, aside from eating and cleaning himself, he devoted every waking hour to cultivation, training with reckless abandon to elevate his Soul Power. Though his Soul Power had not yet broken through to the sixty-ninth rank within this first month, his relentless effort combined with the opened meridians of his eight extraordinary vessels had pushed him to the very threshold of breakthrough. Within five more days at most, he would certainly advance once more.
One year. The Sea God's Light granted them only one year. How much they could improve within that time depended entirely on their own effort. If they failed to wring every last drop of benefit from this year, how could they justify the Sea God's mysterious arrangement?
Each morning, a dedicated Sea Soul Master would deliver fresh food, then depart in silence. No one else appeared to disturb them. Over the course of this month, the Shrek Seven Devils and Bai Chenxiang had drenched at least the first fifty steps in their sweat. With the exception of Bai Chenxiang, who could barely manage the nineteenth step, all seven of the Shrek Seven Devils could now ascend past the fiftieth. Among them, the most dramatic improvement belonged to the physically weakest member — Ning Rongrong.
Under the pressure of the Sea God's Light, her body's resilience was improving dramatically each day. Now, when she released her Martial Soul, one could faintly perceive a layer of luminous, ethereal radiance shimmering around her.
Time passed in this near-frenzied, self-driven crucible of training. Two more months slipped by. Bai Chenxiang finally broke through the fiftieth rank. Though she had no possibility of receiving a God-granted Soul Ring, Tang San had told her that the accumulated benefits of sustained cultivation would naturally manifest once she obtained one. There was no rush to acquire a Soul Ring — she need only continue training diligently.
And so it was, on the final day of their third month since arriving here, that Tang San — seated on the twentieth step in meditation — suddenly snapped his eyes open. Crystalline blue-gold radiance circulated around his body, intermingling with the golden mist generated by the Sea God's Light, their brilliance reflecting off one another. An aura of overwhelming power roused everyone else from their cultivation.
When all eyes fell upon Tang San, they gasped to find that his entire being seemed to radiate a singular, otherworldly glow. Dozens of Blue Silver Emperor stalks, as though carved from crystal, unfurled from beneath him, arranging themselves into a perfect spiral. Around his body, the blue and gold lights merged into a single stream of misty radiance that spiraled slowly upward into the air, and his skin had turned entirely blue-gold.
"Little San, you—" Dai Mubai's eyes went wide.
Tang San did not answer, but the light radiating from his body blazed even more dazzlingly. With a soft boom, his entire body shot upward into the air under the Sea God's Light's rebounding force. In that instant, thousands upon thousands of Blue Silver Emperor stalks erupted from him — like a thousand blue-gold rays of light, with Tang San as their radiant, blinding sun at the center.
Three months of sleepless cultivation within the Sea God's Light had finally delivered what Tang San needed most. Yes — he had broken through. He had finally shattered the most critical bottleneck in any Soul Master's lifetime.
Quantitative change had triggered a qualitative transformation. Six Soul Rings could no longer contain the release of his Soul Power. He had broken through the seventieth-rank barrier and reached the next peak.
He tilted his head upward, and the golden trident brand on his forehead blazed with sudden, brilliant light. Each of the Blue Silver Emperor stalks — now extending a full hundred meters — danced through the air. Under the sunlight, they resembled a thousand auspicious rays, all converging to guard the Emperor of Blue Silver. In that instant, the six Soul Rings that Tang San released all transformed to blue-gold, pulsing with violent, surging waves of energy.