Within the Poseidon Temple…
Once a place of sacred solemnity, the hall was now awash in chaos, pain, and violence. Poseidon sat cross-legged atop his throne. Where once his face was calm and dignified, it was now twisted in agony, veins bulging across his brow, large beads of sweat sliding down his face.
His entire body was shrouded in violently flickering blue-gold divine light—restless and unpredictable. Yet deep within that divine light, a fierce streak of milky white refused to yield.
This was the Sacred Authority from the Angel God!
In the previous great battle, the Angel God fell. Her authority of judgment was seized by the Asura God, while her dominion over divinity and purification was claimed by Poseidon. Inheriting the Angel God's position, Poseidon took on only the most basic aspects of divinity.
The sea, by nature, is endowed with self-purification and cleansing. Thus, the power of Purification melded well with Poseidon's status.
Over the years, with a profound understanding of the law of the sea and vast influence from his devout followers, Poseidon gradually fused purification into his own divine might.
However, this sacred authority was fundamentally incompatible with his status as Sea God.
Initially, Poseidon planned to rely on his strong base and the power of faith, spending millennia—if not longer—painstakingly polishing his divine status.
Yet today, Thunder God's attack not only ravaged his divine body, but also struck a flash of sacred lightning into the very core of his divine foundation.
This foreign divine power was like a spark, instantly igniting violent revolt within the already incompatible "sacred" authority.
"Damn it!" Poseidon grit his teeth until his gums bled, desperately drawing upon his faith to forcibly push back this rebellious authority, striving for temporary stability.
But each suppression cost tremendous faith—faith he'd only recently had confiscated, five thousand years' worth, in fact. Now, each attempt to suppress it felt like having his very flesh torn open and blood spilled.
At that moment, the space within the temple subtly warped. A figure clad in dark reddish, bloodlike armor appeared as if from thin air—the Asura God.
Asura God coolly observed Poseidon's miserable, struggling figure atop the throne. A trace of mocking amusement flickered in his scarlet eyes.
He had warned Poseidon that this sacred authority was incompatible with his own divinity. Forcibly fusing it would do more harm than good—better to remain incomplete, like the fallen Angels.
But Poseidon had refused to listen, trusting that the boundless sea and power of faith could digest anything.
Looking back, it was only bringing disaster upon himself.
"You can't hold out any longer," the Asura God's cold voice cut through the tense air.
"Let it go. Forcibly suppressing it wastes your precious faith. Don't forget, you'll need that faith to heal your wounds."
Poseidon's eyes snapped open—bloodshot and burning with resentment.
"A full ten thousand years of effort! Success was at my fingertips! Now, it's all gone in an instant—how am I supposed to accept that?!"
Asura God sneered, "Can't accept it? Then just let that authority consume you, crumble the foundation of your divinity, and drop you from your current realm. By then, those ten thousand years will count for nothing—you might not even keep your present divine standing."
He paused, then added mockingly, "Of course, I could help temporarily suppress that authority for you, if you ask…"
A brief glimmer of hope flashed in Poseidon's eyes, quickly replaced with icy resolve.
Letting Asura God force his power deep into his own divine foundation to suppress it? That would be handing his very life to another god. Foolish as he might be, Poseidon wouldn't go so far as to invite a wolf into his own house.
Seeing the guarded refusal in Poseidon's eyes, the Asura God was unmoved.
"If you hesitate any longer, you'll soon run out of even the last shred of faith you have to heal. When that happens, your hundred years in the Forbidden Zone might be your final years."
Poseidon paled instantly—a lifeless gray suffusing his face. He was to be confined for a century in the Forbidden Zone. In his current state, he doubted he'd linger long enough to walk out alive.
After tremendous inner struggle, weighing benefits and risks, the madness and bitterness in Poseidon's eyes eventually gave way to desperate silence and deeper, darker hatred.
"Ahhh!"
Poseidon let out the anguished roar of a wounded beast.
At last, he resigned himself to having the sacred authority suppressed deep within his divinity.
Buzz—
A pure white, mystical rune, shining with warmth, light, and order, burst forth from the divine light above Poseidon's head as if freed from millennia of bondage, floating in the air.
The light flickered irregularly, almost as if confused and elated at once. This rune was nothing less than the core manifestation of the Angels' sacred authority!
It trembled faintly, as if seeking its place. Then, as if drawn by some unseen force, vanished without a trace into the void.
Watching the authority he'd labored over for millennia disappear, Poseidon's eyes dimmed with the last glint of light dying out.
Years of struggle rendered futile, faith lost, body grievously wounded—such a blow was unbearable even to a god.
Asura God gazed coldly in the direction the rune had vanished, then glanced indifferently at Poseidon.
"It's done. Regret is pointless. Now, reckon with your current predicament… and think about the future."
Poseidon slowly lifted his head. Once again, his eyes brimmed with hatred and rancor as he whispered hoarsely, locking eyes with Asura God.
"Asura, don't forget—the Angel affair was not done by me alone."
"When all is exposed and everything falls apart, you won't escape responsibility! You destroyed the lunatic, but Life, Good, even Evil itself… none of them will let you go!"
Asura God didn't so much as blink, pure indifference in his eyes.
"Don't worry about that. Your main concern now is to delay Chen Yi's completion of the divine trial for as long as possible."
At that, Poseidon's gaze darkened abruptly. He stared at Asura God.
"So… you're giving up on Tang San?"
He knew how much effort Asura God had invested in Tang San, even breaking rules for his sake.
But Asura God's gaze was calm, expressionless. His voice was little more than a whisper—neither pleased nor angry.
"This is not something you need to consider."
"Not something I need to consider?!" Poseidon suddenly rose from his throne, but the motion aggravated his wounds; face pale once more, rage still raged in his eyes.
"How much have I sacrificed for Tang San?! The divine relic lost! The sacred authority lost! Five thousand years of faith seized! And now, a hundred years of confinement in the Forbidden Zone!"
"Asura, tell me, should I consider this or not?!"
His anguished roar echoed through the empty Sea God Temple. What Poseidon had sacrificed for Tang San was inestimable.
Asura God coldly met Poseidon's emotional glare. The chill of his murderous intent made the temperature in the temple drop several degrees.
After a long standoff, Poseidon finally looked away, slumping onto the throne.
"Now, there is no force left on Douluo Continent that can threaten Chen Yi or slow his progress."
"I… have no options left."
It was true.
The balance of power in the lower world had changed—Chen Yi's side was unstoppable.
Upon hearing this, Asura God spoke again.
"If there's no force left on Douluo Continent to threaten him… then we must bring in threats from beyond the heavens."
"Draw in 'enemies from beyond,' and even the God Realm Committee would be at a loss—they couldn't even denounce it."
Poseidon's eyes narrowed, sharp with understanding. "So that's it…"
…
Meanwhile, at the Clear Sky Sect:
Tang Xiao returned in great haste, barely able to heal from his wounds and fatigue before urgently summoning all elders and disciples.
"Everyone, pack your belongings immediately. Gather all our written records, artifacts, and treasures. We must prepare to migrate the entire clan."
"Migrate the clan?!" Second Elder was stunned, quickly stepping forward to ask, "Sect Master, what is the meaning of this? Only recently did Uncle return, with Lord Bo Saixi by his side! The Clear Sky Sect now possesses undefeatable power—the time to reclaim our glory has come! Why retreat now?"
The other elders and disciples were equally baffled and suspicious. With the founding ancestor's return, this should have been a time of celebration—why, then, was the Sect Master ordering the evacuation as if some disaster loomed?
Tang Xiao scanned the crowd, his eyes full of confusion and bitterness, unable to hide the pain and sorrow on his face. He took a deep breath and explained the events: how the three unrivaled masters coordinated to encircle Tang Chen and Poseidon.
"This is how it came to be," Tang Xiao said gravely. "Before Great-Grandfather left, he ordered that Tang San be brought back as soon as possible and… preparations for migration begin."
"The Clear Sky Sect has no place left on Douluo Continent."
"How… could this possibly happen?!" Third Elder turned pale, swaying in disbelief.
"Uncle… is invincible… and with Sea God Douluo as well… two peerless beings—what could have happened…?"
Tang Xiao abruptly cut him off, his voice firm: "This is the Great-Grandfather's order! Any delay will be punished according to clan law!"
"…Understood, Sect Master."
Second Elder's voice seemed to age ten years in an instant, trembling as he withdrew. Together with the Third Elder, he hurried to gather the disciples and begin the somber work of migration.
Once the crowd had left, Tang Yuehua quietly stepped forward. Her insight was keen—just from fragments of expression and words from Tang Xiao, she'd already sensed the worst.
Seeing her brother's exhausted face, she asked quietly, "Brother… is there truly no other way? What about our Great-Grandfather…?"
Tang Xiao, as if aging ten more years all at once, slumped into a chair and shook his head; his voice low and hoarse.
"Unfortunately… he has no hope…"
He said no more, but his implication was all too clear.
In that circumstance, Tang Chen's chances of survival were slim. Perhaps… he was already gone.
...
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