Following the complete subjugation of the Star Luo team and the claiming of Zhu Zhuyun as a willing addition to his bed, time seemed to fast forward, skipping many days ahead in a blur of systematic victories. The Continental Advanced Spirit Master Academy Elite Tournament proceeded rapidly, the weeks bleeding into one another as the competition narrowed down to the absolute best the world had to offer. The preliminary chaff had been entirely separated from the wheat, leaving only the most elite academies to battle for supremacy within the towering walls of Spirit City.
The Heaven Dou Imperial Academy team was a scythe swinging through a field of dry grass. They easily passed through the semi-finals, their opponents utterly incapable of matching their terrifying, coordinated might. Teams that had trained their entire lives, pushing their bodies and spirits to the breaking point, found their ambitions shattered in mere minutes upon the stage. The sheer disparity in talent and foundational strength was a chasm that no amount of desperate teamwork could cross.
Zhu Zhuqing operated as a phantom of execution. Her movements were a dark poetry of violence, her shadow-infused strikes finding the weak points of every defense. Beside her, Dugu Yan controlled the battlefield with a toxic artistry, her Jade Phosphor venom turning the very air into a suffocating weapon that forced opponents to surrender or face agonizing internal dissolution. Anchoring them all was Ning Rongrong, whose Nine Treasure Glaze Tile Pagoda spun like a beacon of absolute superiority, amplifying her teammates' attributes to a level that broke the fundamental laws of spirit power scaling. Along with the heavy defense of Shi Mo and the aerial superiority of Yu Feng, the team operated with a ruthless efficiency.
They cleared the stage repeatedly before Zhang Tian ever needed to take his hands out of his pockets. He remained a silent spectator within his own formation, a looming shadow of despair for anyone foolish enough to look past the lethal women guarding his front. His lack of participation was not seen as a weakness by the opposing teams, but rather a terrifying psychological weight. If the vanguard was this monstrous, the silent captain at the rear had to be an anomaly of nature.
Finally, the day arrived that the entire continent had been waiting for with bated breath. It was the grand finale of the tournament, the pinnacle of youth competition, where legends were born and empires solidified their prestige.
The atmosphere in Spirit City reached a fever pitch. The colossal arena, a marvel of ancient architecture and spirit engineering, was packed to its absolute brim. The stands were a roaring ocean of anticipation, filled with common spectators, wealthy merchants, arrogant nobles, and powerful Spirit Masters from every corner of the globe. The air vibrated with a palpable kinetic energy, smelling of ozone, expensive perfumes, and the sweat of thousands of tightly packed bodies.
The Heaven Dou Imperial Academy's team was scheduled to fight off against the formidable Spirit Hall Academy. This was not a standard academy roster; it was a team composed of the Spirit Hall's Golden Generation, the absolute pinnacle of talent cultivated by the most powerful organization in existence.
The Spirit Hall Academy team was known for their incredibly high spirit ranks. Unlike the other teams that boasted Spirit Ancestors as their absolute strongest members, the Golden Generation possessed three true Spirit Kings. This overwhelming advantage in sheer cultivation level made them the heavy favorites of the home crowd, the undisputed champions in the eyes of the Spirit City citizens.
However, the Heaven Dou team remained completely unfazed. They walked out of the dark tunnels and onto the massive central stage with a calm, almost bored demeanor. There was no nervous sweat on their brows, no frantic whispering of last-minute strategies. They strolled into the glaring sunlight of the arena as if they were arriving at a casual afternoon banquet.
High above the arena floor, seated upon a magnificent viewing platform carved from white marble and gold, sat Supreme Pontiff Bibi Dong.
To the tens of thousands of cheering subjects below, she was a statue of unapproachable majesty. She wore the heavy, ornate papal robes that draped over her curvaceous body, a crown of brilliant jewels resting upon her pink hair. Her face was an unreadable mask of ice, projecting the absolute authority and divine grace expected of the world's most powerful woman.
Internally, however, her reality was entirely different. Beneath the heavy silk and gold embroidery, her body was a canvas of unseen devotion. Her skin still carried the faint, fading memories of bruising kisses, her thighs ached with a dull, beautiful soreness from nights spent with her legs pinned back. She was entirely subservient to the man standing casually on the stage below. Her heart, once a fortress of bitterness, beat solely for him.
'He looks magnificent,' Bibi Dong thought, her pink eyes tracking Zhang Tian's every movement. A wet heat pooled between her thighs just looking at his relaxed posture. Her inner walls pulsed, yearning for the thick, stretching pressure of his dick. 'The crowd thinks I am sitting here hoping for a Spirit Hall victory. They are fools. I only want to see him shine. I want him to show these children the true meaning of despair.'
She wanted to watch his spirit abilities with her own eyes. In the quiet, sweaty aftermath of their last session, while she lay panting against his chest, he had told her that he would personally defeat her Spirit Hall's Academy's team. He had promised her a spectacle, and she was vibrating with the anticipation of a loyal subject waiting for her king to draw his sword.
Below her platform, standing at the forefront of the Spirit Hall team, was a woman who commanded almost as much attention as the Supreme Pontiff herself. It was Hu Liena, the core of the Golden Generation and the direct disciple of Bibi Dong.
Hu Liena was a vision of lethal seduction. She possessed the Charming Fox Spirit, an entity that naturally enhanced her physical allure to supernatural levels. Her curvaceous body was poured into a tight, form-fitting uniform that left little to the imagination. Her heavy breasts strained against the fabric, twin peaks of soft flesh that commanded the eyes of every male spectator in the front rows. Her waist was incredibly narrow, flaring out into wide, swaying buttocks that mesmerized her opponents before the fight even began.
Currently, Hu Liena was staring directly across the stage. Her gaze was not fixed on the lethal women of the Heaven Dou team, but entirely focused on the handsome Zhang Tian.
Zhang Tian stood with a relaxed posture, his physical appearance striking under the afternoon sun. He possessed long red hair with vibrant blue highlights that caught the light like a prism. His face was carved with aristocratic perfection, but it was his eyes that drew Hu Liena in. They were icy blue eyes, piercing and intelligent, but deep within their depths danced a faint, predatory reddish tint. It was a gaze that promised both salvation and ruin.
As Zhang Tian looked back at Hu Liena, his icy blue eyes slowly, deliberately swept over her form. He did not hide his visual assessment. He traced the curve of her heavy breasts, the dip of her waist, and the flare of her hips.
'She is a ripe fruit waiting to be plucked,' Zhang Tian thought, his mind already weaving a new web of carnal conquest. 'The Charming Fox Spirit gives her an innate, intoxicating musk. Her curves are almost on par with the Zhu sisters. That sexy body is something I must taste.'
He felt a familiar, heavy stirring in his groin. He planned to ask Bibi Dong about tasting her disciple. It was a bold move, considering the complex relationship between a master and an apprentice, but Zhang Tian knew his leverage. Bibi Dong had no idea that Zhang Tian was currently eyeing Hu Liena across the battlefield. Her possessive infatuation usually dictated that she wanted his attention entirely for herself, reluctant to share his massive cock with anyone outside the current arrangement.
'Even if she knew,' Zhang Tian mused internally, a dark smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, 'she would not mind for long. She is my willing slut. Her purpose is to please me. If I command it, she will swallow her jealousy and think of a way to convince Hu Liena to please me in bed. Perhaps I will have the master and disciple serve me simultaneously. The thought of Bibi Dong commanding her own apprentice to open her legs for me is... highly motivating.'
The tension on the stage grew thick enough to cut with a blade. The two teams stared each other down, the silence stretching into a taut wire ready to snap.
The referee, a high-ranking Spirit Hall official, stood in the center of the stage. He was sweating profusely under the immense pressure of the moment. The eyes of the Supreme Pontiff, the Emperor's representative, and tens of thousands of critical spectators were bearing down on him. His hand trembled slightly as he raised it high into the air to signal the start of the final battle.
"Both teams, release your martial spirits!" the referee commanded, his voice magically amplified to reach the furthest corners of the colosseum.
The moment the words left his lips, he turned and dove off the stage, sprinting toward the safety of the reinforced barriers.
An explosion of brilliant spirit rings illuminated the arena, turning the air into a chaotic kaleidoscope of colors. The pressure plummeted as fourteen high-level Spirit Masters ignited their core power simultaneously.
The Spirit Hall Academy team moved with practiced, flawless military precision. They immediately assumed a tight, aggressive formation. Hu Liena stepped to the front alongside her brother Xie Yue, their auras blending seamlessly. Behind them, Yan, the master of the Flame Lord spirit, summoned a localized inferno. Their powerful auras linked together to project a suffocating pressure, a wall of pure, oppressive force designed to crush the will of their opponents before the first strike was even thrown. The golden light of their rings pulsed like a heartbeat of impending victory.
But on the Heaven Dou side, a significant, terrifying change occurred.
For the entirety of the tournament, the opening sequence was always the same. Ning Rongrong would summon her pagoda, Zhu Zhuqing would vanish into the shadows, and Dugu Yan would exhale her toxic mist. Zhang Tian would remain anchored in the rear.
This time, Zhang Tian did not step back.
Instead, Zhang Tian casually stepped to the very forefront of his team. His boots clicked softly against the stone tiles, the sound somehow piercing through the roaring ambient noise of the crowd. He bypassed Zhu Zhuqing and Dugu Yan, standing alone as the vanguard. He slipped his hands out of his pockets, letting his arms hang loosely at his sides. His deep blue eyes, carrying that faint reddish tint, locked onto the Spirit Hall's Golden Generation with a look of absolute, unadulterated boredom.
The entire stadium held its breath. The roaring ocean of cheers suddenly died down to a collective, shocked murmur. Zhang Tian had finally made a move. The crowd, the nobles, and the hiding scouts from various factions braced themselves, anticipating an epic, drawn-out clash between the ultimate geniuses of this generation. They expected a tactical masterpiece, a war of attrition where the three Spirit Kings of Spirit Hall would clash against the rumored monstrous power of the Heaven Dou captain.
Sensing the shift in dynamics, the Spirit Hall team did not hesitate. They felt the arrogant dismissal in Zhang Tian's gaze, a slight that burned their pride. They prepared to launch their most devastating combined assaults. Yan's flames roared higher, Hu Liena's pink charming mist began to seep from her pores, and Xie Yue's Moon Blades glinted with lethal intent. Their optimal spirit rings flared brightly as they locked onto the solitary figure of Zhang Tian, ready to turn him to ash and ribbons.
However, what happened next defied all logic and completely shattered the expectations of every single person watching the grand finale.
Zhang Tian didn't bother engaging in a prolonged martial arts exchange. He had no interest in testing the waters, evaluating their teamwork, or allowing them a chance to display the fruits of their lifelong training. He simply raised his right hand, his palm facing the sky.
He summoned his Blood Silver Emperor spirit.
A single blade of crimson grass erupted from the center of his palm, instantly multiplying into a thick, writhing cluster of blood-red vines. The air around him distorted, heavy with the scent of iron and ozone.
It wasn't a standard attack. He didn't send the vines creeping across the floor or whipping through the air. Instead, his spirit rings materialized, dropping from the sky to encircle his body. Yellow, yellow, purple, black... and then, the final ring.
His pitch-black, ten-thousand-year fifth spirit ring instantly lit up. It did not just glow; it erupted with a blinding violet-white radiance that forced the spectators in the front rows to shield their eyes.
"Fifth Spirit Ability: Blood Thunder Hell Cage," Zhang Tian stated calmly.
He did not shout. He did not strain. His voice was a flat, conversational tone, yet it echoed clearly across the silent stadium, carrying the weight of an executioner reading a predetermined sentence.
In a fraction of a second, the entire stage was engulfed.
It was an explosion of botanical horror. A massive, inescapable tempest of crimson vines shot out from his location. They did not travel across the ground; they erupted from the very stone tiles beneath the Spirit Hall team, bursting upward like geysers of blood and shadow. The vines moved with a speed that defied the physical mass they possessed, weaving together in mid-air to form a gigantic, inescapable dome over the entire enemy team.
The sheer scale of the construct was breathtaking. It blotted out the sun over the Spirit Hall formation, plunging them into a claustrophobic twilight.
Before the three Spirit Kings of the Spirit Hall Academy could even register the threat, let alone activate a single defensive ability or coordinate a counter-attack, the cage snapped shut around them. The thick, crimson vines locked together seamlessly, forming a solid wall of organic steel.
Hu Liena's charming mist was trapped within. Yan's flames licked uselessly against the fire-resistant crimson bark. Xie Yue raised his blades to slice through the sudden prison, his muscles tensing for a desperate strike.
They were too slow.
Violet-white lightning, infused with the terrifying, divine power of the Thunder Hell Prison Vine that Zhang Tian had absorbed, detonated simultaneously from every single vine constructing the cage.
It was not a directed bolt of lightning; it was an omnidirectional flood of high-voltage plasma. The interior of the Blood Thunder Hell Cage transformed into a localized sun of agonizing electricity.
The explosive, paralyzing force of the lightning instantly overwhelmed the entire Spirit Hall team. The voltage was so extreme, so inherently destructive to the meridian pathways, that it ignored their spirit power defenses completely. The shields they had instinctively thrown up shattered like thin glass under a sledgehammer.
The Golden Generation, the absolute pride of the Spirit Hall, shrieked in unison. The sound of their agony was muffled by the thick walls of the crimson cage, but the sheer terror in those brief screams sent shivers down the spines of those standing near the stage. The paralyzing voltage locked their muscles instantly, forcing their bodies into rigid, unnatural contortions. The violet-white electricity arced across their skin, frying their nervous systems and boiling the spirit power in their veins in less than a second.
Zhang Tian stood outside the cage, his arm still raised. The violet-white light reflected in his icy blue eyes.
With a casual flick of his wrist, as if he were swatting away a mildly annoying fly, Zhang Tian manipulated the massive cage of vines.
The ground trembled as the roots of the Blood Thunder Hell Cage detached from the stage. Using the immense physical strength granted by his spirit bones and the telekinetic control over his martial spirit, Zhang Tian physically lifted the entire construct—along with all seven paralyzed, smoking members of the enemy team trapped inside—straight into the air.
The massive, glowing dome hovered ten meters above the stage, crackling with residual lightning.
With another swift, fluid motion of his arm, he swung the cage sideways.
The movement was blindingly fast. He threw the entire cage toward the edge of the arena. As the construct reached the boundary line, Zhang Tian willed the vines to dissolve back into spirit power.
The cage vanished into thin air.
The seven members of the Spirit Hall Academy team, completely paralyzed and twitching uncontrollably from the neural shock, were launched through the air by the sheer momentum of the swing. They flew completely off the stage in a tangled, smoking heap.
They crashed heavily into the reinforced protective barriers outside the ring boundaries. The impact was brutal. Bodies slammed against the energy shields and slumped onto the ground in a disorganized pile of limbs and ruined uniforms.
Hu Liena lay draped over Yan's legs, her beautiful, curvaceous body twitching rhythmically as residual electricity sparked across her skin. Her eyes were rolled back, her mouth slightly open, a thin trail of saliva leaking onto the stone. Her heavy breasts heaved erratically as her lungs struggled to draw breath through her paralyzed diaphragm. Xie Yue lay nearby, his Moon Blades scattered out of his reach, his fingers curled into stiff claws.
They were entirely unable to move a single finger. Their consciousness was fading, trapped in bodies that no longer obeyed their commands.
The match had ended swiftly. It had taken less than five seconds from the referee's starting signal to the complete, humiliating elimination of the enemy team.
A deathly, absolute silence fell over the colossal arena.
The roaring ocean of spectators had been instantly frozen. Tens of thousands of people, from the highest-ranking nobles to the common citizens, stared in sheer, unadulterated disbelief at the twitching bodies lying outside the ring. Mouths hung open. Eyes widened to the point of tearing. The visual evidence simply did not compute with their understanding of the world.
There was no detailed, epic fight. There was no grand exchange of ultimate abilities, no tactical maneuvering, no dramatic turning of the tides. It was simply an instant, overwhelming display of absolute, unbridgeable suppression. The gap between Zhang Tian and the Golden Generation was not a step; it was a chasm spanning entire realms of existence.
The referee stood frozen near the edge of the stage, his hand still gripping the barrier he had dove behind. His jaw was slacked, his eyes darting frantically between the empty space on the stage where the Golden Generation had stood a moment ago, and the smoking pile of bodies outside the boundary line. His brain was caught in a loop, entirely unable to comprehend that the grand finale—the most anticipated match of the decade—had ended before he could even blink.
On the stage, Zhang Tian lowered his hand. He let out a small, disappointed sigh that carried perfectly through the dead silence of the stadium.
He dismissed his Blood Silver Emperor spirit, the last traces of crimson light fading from his palms. He casually reached down and dusted off a microscopic speck of dust from his pristine, dark robes.
"Is that all?" Zhang Tian asked rhetorically.
His voice was smooth, carrying an arrogant nonchalance that pierced the thick silence of the stadium like a hot knife through butter. It was not a boast; it was a genuine question of profound disappointment. He had expected the Golden Generation to at least withstand a single second of the lightning.
Behind him, the members of the Heaven Dou Imperial Academy team stood in a state of relaxed boredom. Shi Mo still had his hands resting by his sides. Yu Feng was inspecting a fingernail. They didn't even have the chance to summon their spirit rings properly before the match was over. There was no need.
Zhu Zhuqing and Ning Rongrong, standing side-by-side, exchanged a knowing smile. Both weren't surprised at the victory in the slightest. They knew it would be this swift the moment Zhang Tian had stepped forward to take action. He did not waste time playing with food when he was hungry.
"I told you he wouldn't let them pose for the crowd," Ning Rongrong whispered, leaning closer to Zhu Zhuqing, completely dismissing the monumental event that had just occurred. "Now we have the entire evening free."
"Indeed," Zhu Zhuqing murmured, her feline eyes crinkling in amusement. "What should we eat at the celebration party tonight? I ordered the imperial chefs to prepare a spread of deep-sea spirit fish."
"Oh, the fish is good, but we need something rich," Ning Rongrong replied, her eyes sparkling as she debated the menu. "Perhaps the roasted thunder-boar? And the wine... we must ask the hotel to get the hundred-year vintage. The crimson ruby wine pairs perfectly with the boar. We should bring a bottle back to our suite later. Husband loves the taste of that wine when he drinks it from my lips."
"We will need two bottles, then," Zhu Zhuqing added pragmatically, entirely ignoring the thousands of shocked eyes staring at their team. "The night will be long."
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the referee snapped out of his shock. His knees wobbled dangerously as he climbed back up the short stairs to the stage. His hands were trembling so violently he nearly dropped his signaling flag. He raised it, pointing directly at Zhang Tian's team, though his eyes remained fixed on the smoking bodies of his own academy's prodigies.
"The... the match is over!" the referee stuttered loudly, his voice cracking over the amplification spirit tools. He had to force the words past the lump of terror in his throat. "All members of the Spirit Hall Academy are... are out of bounds and incapacitated!"
He took a deep, shuddering breath, staring at the bored face of the red-haired monster standing before him.
"The winner of the Continental Advanced Spirit Master Academy Elite Tournament is... the Heaven Dou Imperial Academy!" he declared, his voice echoing into the heavens.
The silence shattered.
It was replaced by an earth-shaking roar from the crowd. It was not a unified cheer of celebration; it was a chaotic, deafening mix of awe, terror, and absolute bewilderment at the sheer disparity in power they had just witnessed. People screamed, some tearing at their hair in disbelief, while others bowed their heads in instinctual reverence to the display of overwhelming dominance.
In the VIP section, Crown Prince Xue Qinghe of the Heaven Dou Empire stood up. This was Liam, acting under the flawless illusion of his Mirage Spirit, operating strictly under the covert commands of Qian Renxue. He threw his arms wide and laughed uproariously, a booming sound of aristocratic triumph. His chest puffed out with immense pride at his empire's flawless victory, playing the role of the exultant royal perfectly, further solidifying his false identity in the eyes of the watching nobility.
On the high balcony overlooking the chaos, Supreme Pontiff Bibi Dong remained perfectly seated. She did not clutch the arms of her throne in anger. She did not grit her teeth in frustration. Her face remained devoid of any anger or disappointment regarding her academy's humiliating defeat. To the observers, it looked as though the Pontiff possessed a terrifying, unfathomable stoicism.
Internally, however, a very different emotion bloomed.
'My Husband is truly the most powerful man in the world,' Bibi Dong thought. Her heart swelled with a twisted, devoted pride that sent a fresh wave of heat straight to her pussy. She squeezed her thighs together beneath her heavy robes, imagining the sheer force of the hips that had just thrown seven Spirit Kings through the air. She cared absolutely nothing for the Spirit Hall's lost face. Let the world mock her academy; the man who broke them owned her soul. He had promised her a spectacle, and he had delivered a masterpiece of destruction.
Naturally, there was no surprise among those who truly knew him. Zhang Tian's team won the tournament without a single casualty or struggle, completely cementing his legendary status across the entire Douluo Continent. He was no longer just a genius inventor or a powerful student; he was an anomaly, a terrifying force of nature that had officially stepped onto the world stage, leaving broken bodies and shattered prides in his wake.
~~
A/N: Check out my BTTH Fanfic [Doupo: Plundering the Plot with God-Tier Comprehension].
Also, check out 20 Chapters Ahead for this fanfic on my P.atreon.
Patreon link: https://www.patreon.com/c/evildragon04