Ning Rongrong and Oscar exchanged a glance, each seeing the same steely resolve in the other's eyes. They had not told any of the people anxiously watching over Tang San that, in truth, they did not have even half an ounce of confidence in their ability to resurrect him.
Earlier, when their hands had clasped together and that strange radiance had appeared—yes, they had both received a prompt in their hearts. They had not lied about that. The second skill of the one-hundred-thousand-year ninth soul ring was, in fact, the Martial Soul Fusion Technique Resurrection Light.
Martial Soul Fusion Technique Resurrection Light: Resurrection conditions—the body must not be destroyed, and the resurrection must take place within one hour of death. After resurrection, strength recovers to fifty percent. Both Ning Rongrong and Oscar lose all Soul Power for one month.
Without question, this was an immensely powerful ability—perhaps the most formidable support-type resurrection skill in all of history. After all, how could a Martial Soul Fusion Technique used jointly by the world's first Food-Type Titled Douluo and the world's first Support-Type Titled Douluo possibly be anything less than extraordinary?
But there was one critical problem. The Resurrection Light was designed for resurrecting humans. Yet the one Ning Rongrong and Oscar now needed to resurrect was the Sea God—Tang San, the Sea God.
They knew full well that resurrecting an ordinary person and resurrecting a god were two entirely different things. Setting aside whether the Resurrection Light would even work on Tang San, even if it did—could the cost of resurrecting a god possibly be the same as resurrecting a mortal?
Anyone else facing these questions would have hesitated. But at this moment, there was simply no time left for Oscar and Ning Rongrong to deliberate. If they did not step forward now, then everyone standing before them might already be corpses. This was their last glimmer of hope, and when Oscar and Ning Rongrong had locked eyes while calling out to the others, they had already made their decision.
Resurrecting one person cost a month's worth of Soul Power. So what about resurrecting a god? Even if it meant losing their Soul Power forever, they would do it willingly—even if it cost them their lives.
This was not merely because of the bonds they shared with Tang San. It was for the sake of this final hope. When the nest is overturned, how can any egg remain unbroken? If the Tian Dou Empire truly surrendered, could they possibly survive on their own? If there had been no other option, perhaps they could have accepted it—but this last sliver of hope was right before their eyes. How could they possibly let it go?
Looking at Tang San's lifeless body, Ning Rongrong spoke silently in her heart: Third Brother, all this time, you have been the one standing in front of us, shielding us from wind and rain, sacrificing everything for our sake. I can say without hesitation that everything Rongrong has achieved today is thanks to you. Today, let Little Ao and me repay this debt. At worst, we will all walk the road to the underworld together.
Oscar drew a deep breath. "Xiao Wu, please step back."
Xiao Wu raised her head. The tears had vanished from her eyes. Where moments ago there had been nothing but despair, there now flickered the faintest spark of hope. Looking into her gaze, Ning Rongrong and Oscar both shuddered involuntarily. They had no doubt that if Tang San's resurrection failed, Xiao Wu would follow him in death without a moment's hesitation. Their lives had long since merged into one.
"Please," Xiao Wu whispered, bowing her head. She pressed a gentle kiss to Tang San's lips. As she laid his body down on the ground, her entire frame was trembling uncontrollably. Within her, some strange force was surging back and forth, desperately trying to break free. The moment her lips had touched Tang San's, Xiao Wu had felt her body go deathly cold. Her skin had begun to flush a faint, unnatural red.
Gazing at Tang San with infinite reluctance, Xiao Wu carefully placed his body flat on the floor. Everyone's attention was fixed on Tang San—no one noticed the changes taking place within her.
She rose to her feet and slowly stepped aside, her fists clenched tight. The bone-cold energy inside her seemed to intensify with each passing second. The only thought she could form was that she was going to go berserk. The instant Bibi Dong had crushed Tang San's heart, her own heart had shattered along with it. She had plunged into a state beyond all description. It was only after that moment the frigid energy currents had begun to surface, growing ever stronger.
Xiao Wu made no sound. She did not spare a single thought for herself. In her eyes, there was only Tang San. Her teeth bit into her lower lip, both hands gripped into tight fists, her gaze utterly fixed upon his body.
Oscar and Ning Rongrong looked up at each other almost simultaneously, and in each other's eyes they found the same answer—an answer forged in absolute determination. No matter the cost, no matter the difficulty, even if their lives could buy only the slimmest chance, they would not give up.
They stepped forward and took their positions on either side of Tang San's body, then raised their hands, interlacing their fingers. Their arms stretched across the space above Tang San like two bridges spanning his prone form.
A fierce surge of Soul Power erupted forth. Soul Ring after Soul Ring materialized beneath their feet, spiraling upward. When the final—the ninth—crimson Soul Ring appeared, every heart in the room climbed into throats.
Oscar and Ning Rongrong had spoken with conviction, but no one had ever witnessed a resurrection before. Resurrecting an ordinary person was something unheard of, let alone resurrecting a god. In the past, Xiao Wu's revival had been possible only because her physical body had suffered no damage, her soul had been preserved within Tang San's Soul Rings and Soul Bones, and through the re-infusion of those rings and bones, combined with divine-grade spiritual herbs, she had been brought back to life. But in a sense, that had not been a true resurrection.
Now, the massive wound on Tang San's corpse was painfully visible to everyone. His chest cavity was empty—there was no heart inside. After the final clash of divine souls with Bibi Dong, he had not shown the slightest sign of awakening. It was entirely possible that his divine soul had been shattered. Under these circumstances, no one could say what chance of resurrection even existed. For every person present, this was inconceivable—and yet they had no choice but to cling to Oscar and Ning Rongrong's words as their last hope. None of them wanted to believe that Tang San was truly dead.
Oscar looked at Ning Rongrong and spoke in a steady voice, "Let's begin."
Ning Rongrong nodded. Their eyes lit up at the same instant. Oscar's hands had turned completely white, while Ning Rongrong's radiated a nine-colored halo. In the eyes of everyone watching, the other eight Soul Rings on both Oscar and Ning Rongrong dimmed and then vanished entirely—only the ninth ring blazed with sudden, brilliant intensity, its crimson light expanding rapidly to envelop their bodies. When those two rings of red light merged and fused into one, the white on Oscar's hands shifted to pink, while the nine-colored glow on Ning Rongrong's turned pure white. The white and pink lights interplayed and shimmered, then surged outward in a tremendous burst. In an instant, the entire council hall was filled with an utterly extraordinary aura of energy.
This energy did not feel oppressive or aggressive, yet everyone could sense the staggering magnitude of power contained within it. As the light spread, a golden dome of energy—ten meters in diameter and three meters tall—materialized silently, enclosing Oscar, Ning Rongrong, and Tang San's body within its boundaries. The wildly fluctuating energy from moments ago was suddenly contained, completely sealed beneath the dome. It felt as though the energy had simply vanished into thin air. But within the dome, transformations were already beginning to unfold.
The Great Master furrowed his brow and murmured to himself, "They are deliberately releasing this energy to prevent the technique's aura from escaping outward. These children have truly grown up—to remain so calm at a time like this."
Everyone crowded around the golden dome, peering inside. It seemed that the dome served only to block energy fluctuations but did not obstruct their view. Every eye was riveted on what was happening within. Meanwhile, Tang Hao, Poison Douluo, the Golden Iron Triangle, and Xiao Wu all steeled themselves, ready to react at a moment's notice—guarding against the possibility that Bibi Dong might appear.
The golden dome felt like another world—a strange, otherworldly realm. Bathed in red light, Tang San's body remained unchanged on the ground. But Oscar and Ning Rongrong's bodies had begun to undergo a wondrous transformation.
Behind each of them, an ethereal figure materialized. Behind Oscar appeared a yellow-robed figure—tall and slender, clad in a flowing yellow gown, wearing a tall crown, surrounded by gentle waves of golden energy. Behind Ning Rongrong appeared a nine-colored figure draped in a nine-colored gown, with countless ribbons trailing behind—clearly a female form.
Once these two phantom figures had fully manifested, the two crimson Soul Rings that had been radiating red light vanished. Oscar and Ning Rongrong simply stood there, hands clasped, eyes closed. Their bodies shone with the same radiance as the figures behind them.
The phantoms drifted forward and gradually merged with their bodies. The ethereal forms grew more solid and real, while Oscar and Ning Rongrong themselves disappeared into the light—as though they had fused with the apparitions.
"Great Master, what is happening?" Tang Hao could not help but ask.
The Great Master shook his head. "I don't know either. A Martial Soul Fusion Technique of this magnitude is rare enough as it is—and a fusion born from the merging of two individual skills is even more extraordinary. We must believe that they can create a miracle. Let us all pray for Little San together. He will not die. He definitely won't."
Tang Hao nodded emphatically. One by one, they closed their eyes and prayed in silence.
The phantoms completed their fusion with the bodies. What now stood inside the golden dome was a man in a yellow robe and tall crown, and a breathtakingly beautiful woman in a nine-colored gown. Strangely, although their appearances and attire had transformed, their faces remained those of Oscar and Ning Rongrong. At this moment, both faces radiated a sacred, inviolable light. Strange luminescence wreathed each of them. Although the energy fluctuations were contained within the golden dome, the Titled Douluo standing outside could clearly sense the enormity of the divine aura. They felt, with absolute certainty, that if this aura were to surge beyond the dome, they would have no power to withstand it.
Their four clasped hands slowly parted. Oscar and Ning Rongrong each drew their hands back to their chests in a gesture as if cradling something before their hearts. Within the hands of the yellow-robed man that Oscar had become, a soft pink sphere of light gradually materialized. As it appeared, the yellow glow enveloping his body began to thin and fade.
Ning Rongrong's situation mirrored Oscar's, except that the sphere forming between her palms was nine-colored. The two spheres of light reflected each other's radiance, releasing waves of energy that were gentle in feel yet overwhelmingly powerful.
Among all present, the one who had experienced divine power the most was undoubtedly Xiao Wu. She understood clearly what had happened when Oscar and Ning Rongrong had completed the absorption of their final soul rings. Xiao Wu had entirely forgotten the pain wracking her own body. Red demonic patterns shimmered faintly across her hands, but she was forcibly suppressing the frigid energy within her through sheer force of will, refusing to let a single expression of pain or any sound escape her lips.
So this is the Food God and the Nine-Colored Goddess? There's hope for Brother! This ninth Martial Soul Fusion Technique of Little Ao's and Rongrong's seems to have summoned two great deities, borrowing their power temporarily. No wonder they said this skill could help bring Brother back—if divine beings have descended, then it truly might be possible. Based on their attributes, both of these deities should be support-type as well. Two support-type gods assisting in Brother's resurrection—there must be a chance. There has to be. Brother, you have to come back to life!
Xiao Wu screamed these words frantically in her heart. Her fervent, desperate faith in her prayer had placed her entire spirit in a transcendent state—and it was within this state that the red demonic patterns already blooming across her skin were forcibly suppressed. Even the bone-cold energy, battered by the relentless pressure of her conviction, gradually receded into her meridians, freeing Xiao Wu from her agony. But none of that mattered in the slightest. If Tang San could not be revived, none of it meant anything at all.
The Food God and the Nine-Colored Goddess slowly extended their hands toward each other. The energy spheres in their palms drew closer and closer. Between the two orbs, arcs of multicolored lightning crackled and danced, seemingly repelling one another. A trace of pain crossed both deities' faces, but their hands continued to advance steadily toward each other.
The two spheres neared each other further. The arcs of lightning between them grew denser and more violent, and the ferocious energy fluctuations caused the outer golden dome to waver and flicker, as though it might shatter at any moment.
Tang Hao clenched his fists. Like everyone else, he was screaming silently in his heart: It has to work!
At last, the two energy spheres came together directly above Tang San's body—or more precisely, they converged upon the gaping wound where his heart should have been.
An incandescent burst of light erupted between the Food God and the Nine-Colored Goddess—a blinding column of pure white radiance. The explosion of light rendered the two descending deities almost translucent, their forms turning ghostly and see-through. The white pillar of light plummeted downward, striking the massive wound in Tang San's chest with devastating force.
Tang San's body convulsed violently under the white radiance. Every muscle in his frame spasmed in violent contraction. Tendrils of white lightning branched out from the point of impact, spreading across every corner of his body. Colossal, indescribable energy condensed in the air. At the wound on his chest, a golden light began to shimmer—the meridians that had been sealed shut seemed to open. Golden blood splashed outward.
The blood flared for only an instant before being swallowed by the white light. No one could see the wound any longer. Tang San's entire body was shrouded in that ethereal white luminescence.
The Food God and the Nine-Colored Goddess both wore deep furrows of concentration between their brows. Their hands had been completely overtaken by the white radiance. It was clearly visible that on the Food God's side, rings of yellow light rose continuously from beneath his feet, converging upward through his body before pouring into his hands. On the Nine-Colored Goddess's side, the light took on nine colors instead, but likewise surged in a steady, ceaseless stream of energy output.