Chapter 112: Your Wife Was Truly Remarkable
"Haotian Douluo? That man—is he the same Haotian Douluo from years ago?"
"Why did Haotian Douluo attack the Warlock?"
"Could what the Warlock said be true? Has the Clear Sky Sect been secretly sending the Haotian Douluo to assassinate geniuses from other factions?"
The Great Spirit Arena was soon in chaos.
Most of the ordinary soul masters were ignorant of how high-level figures like the Clear Sky Sect or a Titled Douluo functioned.
So a rumor like this one—shocking, scandalous, and dramatic—would lodge in their minds and later spread like wildfire through taverns and markets.
And Luo Ling silently boosted it, releasing the suggestive power of his Soul of Desire field across the entire audience without discrimination.
"Impudent brat!" Tang Hao, unable to bear it any longer, erupted. His roar filled the arena as he charged toward Luo Ling.
The oppressive might of a Titled Douluo swept through the Great Spirit Arena, instantly silencing the crowd.
Luo Ling remained calm.
To his vision, Tang Hao's spirit had already been overtaken by blazing crimson—pure, uncontrollable fury. It needed only a spark to ignite into madness.
He quietly manipulated his Mind Domain, amplifying that anger one flicker at a time.
The Haotian Hammer, drenched in lethal intent, swung straight at him.
As it descended, a pitch-black cloak materialized over Luo Ling's shoulders, rippling like liquid darkness.
The hammer struck—its impact carrying the wrath of a Titled Douluo. The spectators gasped in unison.
Even the experts in the VIP stands, including Bibi Dong, went pale.
She knew Luo Ling possessed Ghost Stealth, a technique that allowed him to phase through all physical assaults—yet he hadn't used it.
Just as Bibi Dong prepared to intervene, the hammer halted in midair with a thunderous boom.
It was stopped—by a faint red barrier shimmering around Luo Ling.
Tang Hao froze, his rage suddenly doused by confusion.
Until he recognized that barrier.
It was identical—down to the faint glow—to the one that had stolen away his wife's spirit bone and her soul essence.
"Heh… looks like the great Haotian Douluo remembers me," a low, chilling laugh echoed through the silence.
"I should thank you again, Lord Haotian."
"Your wife was truly remarkable. Without her, I doubt my spirit power would've advanced as fast as it did."
The Warlock's mocking laughter rolled across the entire arena as Luo Ling slowly floated into the air.
A pale blue gleam flickered faintly around his right leg.
Tang Hao's eyes widened to bloodshot fury. The instant he sensed that familiar aura from Luo Ling's leg, his sanity shattered.
Rage beyond reason exploded.
All rational thought vanished as pure killing intent consumed him.
The Killing God Domain erupted automatically, engulfing the entire Great Spirit Arena in a suffocating crimson haze.
Raising his massive hammer, Tang Hao charged skyward, swinging with catastrophic power.
But as he neared Luo Ling, the Warlock's eyes flashed with scarlet light.
A tiny, invisible seed slipped silently into Tang Hao's brow—Soul Seed planted.
At the same instant, Ghost Stealth activated. Luo Ling's form faded, turning translucent—then vanished completely, just as he had done once before in the cavern.
"Ahhhh!!!" Tang Hao's roar shook the heavens.
The Warlock had vanished again.
Blinded by rage, the Killing God Domain intensified, tearing through the arena.
The killing aura devoured him completely, driving his body while erasing his last trace of reason.
The weaker soul masters nearby were overwhelmed almost instantly, their minds collapsing under the murderous pressure.
Tang Hao's gaze, blood-red and empty of thought, swept over them.
And then, without hesitation, he began slaughtering them.
The Haotian Hammer fell upon the helpless, crushing, pulverizing, obliterating.
A one-sided massacre began.
Above, Luo Ling hovered calmly, watching the blood-soaked reality unfold beneath him.
Devoid of sanity, Tang Hao was now just a raging weapon, a beast of death.
After this day, the Haotian Douluo's infamy would spread across all of Spirit Master society.
The rumor would flourish—that the Clear Sky Sect had long sent Tang Hao to assassinate gifted talents of other factions, and that today, to silence witnesses, he had slaughtered a crowd in the Great Spirit Arena.
A perfect explanation—believable, terrible, irreversible.
As for the truth?
Who would ever care?
Luo Ling's lips curled into a pleasant, almost gentle smile—yet it chilled the bones of all who saw it.
Anyone and anything connected to Yu Xiaogang that dared stand against him—he would destroy utterly.
He would become what he needed to be: a villain, a demon, a dark god.
…
"Tang Hao! Have you gone insane?!"
The great powers in the VIP rooms finally emerged, their auras shaking the air as they confronted the rampaging Douluo.
The arena had become a wasteland.
Corpses of low-level soul masters littered the floor; many had been crushed into mangled ruin by the Haotian Hammer.
Thanks only to the combined efforts of the gathered powerhouses was further carnage prevented.
"Tang Hao! So it's true—the Clear Sky Sect really is behind the disappearance of genius spirit masters?"
"You killed them just now to cover your tracks?"
The accusations rang from all sides.
All around Tang Hao, the greatest powers gathered—their martial souls unleashed.
Sword and Bone Douluo of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan.
Chrysanthemum and Ghost Douluo of the Spirit Hall.
Bibi Dong herself.
Dugu Bo as well.
Six Titled Douluo surrounded him.
But in his dazed, blood-drenched state, Tang Hao ignored them all, still lashing out like a cornered beast.
Though the others were strong, none dared step forward.
Everyone knew the terror of the Haotian Douluo. None wanted to be the first to test his wrath.
Nearly ten minutes passed before Tang Hao's eyes regained focus.
When he saw the carnage—the blood, the bodies, the ruin—clarity and horror returned.
Then he thought of the Warlock—and his fury reignited.
But this time, he held it back.
Clutching the Haotian Hammer, he dispelled the Killing God Domain and glared coldly at the surrounding figures.
"Those so-called dead geniuses have nothing to do with me," he said flatly.
After ensuring that Tang San and the Shrek group were gone, he swung the huge hammer, and with a single flash, he vanished from the arena.
No one pursued.
Whether Tang Hao truly was an assassin or not, his sect's name alone made him untouchable.
Only the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan and the Spirit Hall possessed the power to truly oppose him—and neither made a move.
After a long silence, the remaining powers exchanged uneasy glances and quietly dispersed.
From the shattered ruins, Director Ao of the Great Spirit Arena crawled out, trembling.
He looked over the devastation—his dreams and wealth buried in rubble.
He had thought the Warlock was his golden goose.
Now he was bankrupt, surrounded by corpses, and his arena was destroyed.
"Damn that Haotian Douluo… damn that Clear Sky Sect…" he muttered bitterly, though only under his breath.
(END CHAPTER)
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