Chapter 120 – 137. Grandpa, You're Back
The Rakshasa God arrived at the secret meeting place she shared with the Asura God.
"Asura, why did you call me here?" Rakshasa asked.
"How is the matter I entrusted to you progressing? Did something go wrong?" the Asura God asked, his expression dark and grim.
"This…" Rakshasa's gaze flickered uneasily.
"Speak."
"There was… a small accident. That Angel God bitch discovered that I had sent a Rakshasa inheritor into her Spirit Hall, so she personally intervened and broke the influence I had placed on my inheritor and on the Pope. So…"
Before she could finish, the Asura God slapped her hard, knocking her to the ground.
"You—you actually hit me!" Rakshasa cried, clutching her face, eyes full of grievance.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Asura demanded, furious.
"I… I didn't want to disappoint you, Asura giegie," Rakshasa said pitifully.
"Do you have any idea that during today's Divine Realm council, the Angel God attacked me?" Asura snapped. "If I had known your plan had gone wrong, that she had discovered it, I wouldn't have been caught completely off guard! Rakshasa, you useless thing—this is all your fault!"
"Asura, how was I supposed to know it would turn out like this?" Rakshasa muttered. She hadn't attended the council, but from the whispers of other gods, she'd pieced together most of what had happened.
She just hadn't expected that Angel God bitch to be bold enough to sue the Asura God—and actually succeed.
Thinking of Asura's authority being torn apart, his mask ripped open, a secret satisfaction welled in her heart. Outwardly, however, she asked, "So… what now?"
"As Spirit Hall's side has gone awry," Asura said coldly, "you will find another inheritor for me, Rakshasa. Use them to plunge the Douluo Continent into chaos and prove to the world that Spirit Hall is weak—then let the Great Child destroy it and take its faith."
"Yes," Rakshasa answered.
Asura went on, his tone heavy and meaningful. "Rakshasa, I am now under the council's supervision and can no longer freely intervene in the lower realm. I must entrust the Great Child to your hands. But don't worry—when the Great Child ascends, I'll take you to wander the universe."
A slap, then a sweet promise—this pattern had never failed him when dealing with Rakshasa.
"Really, Asura giegie?" she asked, feigning hopeful delight.
"Of course."
After returning, the Asura God sat upon his Shura throne, carefully reviewing the reasons for his defeat.
At the core was Rakshasa's failure—exposed by the Angel God, who then struck back through the other Divine Kings.
But the root of everything… lay with that piece of trash, Tang Hao.
His help for Tang Hao had now tightly bound their fates together.
Looking at what Tang Hao had done—was there a single deed he could be proud of? For a hundred-thousand-year soul beast's mating rights, he crippled his brother, then killed comrades and elders, and even his own father under the Clear Sky Hammer.
Before this incident, Asura hadn't cared. But after it all came to light, suffocating frustration gnawed at him.
If Tang Hao's conduct had been even somewhat defensible, Asura could at least have claimed him as his chosen inheritor. Instead, he was left humiliated.
"Tang Hao…" Asura now hated him bitterly. But there was no going back—he had made his choice and now had to endure it.
He opened his divine vision to check on Tang Hao's situation—and what he saw shocked him.
"Tang Hao, you useless fool, what are you doing now? Do you not know your own limits?" Asura raged.
He could no longer openly intervene in the lower realm, but he had yet to reclaim the divine power lodged in Tang Hao's body. That reclamation required a process—one he could use to transmit a warning to that idiot.
Tang Hao, Clear Sky Hammer in hand, moved warily down a dark corridor, every step careful. At last he reached its end, where a tightly shut door stood, a crack of light streaming through from the other side.
Tang Hao ran his hand over the wood and pushed it open. What appeared before his eyes was a familiar sight—the Clear Sky Sect's main council hall.
His heart swelled with nostalgia and confusion. He hadn't returned in decades. Why was he here now?
He stepped cautiously inside. Ahead of him stood a row of figures with their backs turned. Each silhouette was one he recognized.
As he approached, they turned around one by one, and Tang Hao recognized the elders of the Clear Sky Sect:
Tang Qi, Tang Zhe, Tang Po, Tang Mie, Tang Ba, Tang Kai.
Panic rose in Tang Hao's chest. His eyes darted between their faces. They stared back at him without emotion, and the air in the hall felt suddenly colder.
Is… is this real?
With stiff, awkward steps, Tang Hao circled around them, his legs shaky. Wherever he went, their unblinking gazes followed.
At last, he reached the center of the hall and looked up at the council dais. Two people sat upon it. One, seated sideways, was Tang Xiao—completely unharmed, looking at Tang Hao with mocking eyes. Next to him, another familiar figure sat with his back turned.
Slowly, that man turned around.
His eyes flared wide, filled with murderous intent fixed solely on Tang Hao.
Tang Hao's jaw dropped, and unconsciously, he let go of the Clear Sky Hammer—it fell and clanged against the floor.
Standing before him was the former Clear Sky Sect master, the level-99 Ultimate Douluo, unrivaled on land—Tang Chen, Grand Worshipper of the Eternal God.
Tang Hao's fear shattered his composure. Both knees buckled as he collapsed.
Two disciples of the Clear Sky Sect stepped from the ranks to seize him by the shoulders. Tang Hao was so terrified by Tang Chen's presence that his soul felt like it was fleeing his body.
"Grandpa… you're back," Tang Hao stammered.
"Grandpa… weren't you in the God Forbidden Land?" he added weakly.
Tang Chen gave no reply. His killing intent merely intensified as he strode toward Tang Hao. Each step weighed on Tang Hao like a mountain.
"Grandpa…" Tang Hao trembled as Tang Chen drew closer.
With a casual gesture, Tang Chen summoned the blood-red Clear Sky Hammer into his hand. Raising it high above his head, he prepared to strike.
Tang Hao's eyes followed the massive hammer. Desperate to live, he pleaded frantically:
"Grandfather, spare me! Please, spare me!"
Tang Chen's hammer swung down.
"Grandfather, forgive me! I didn't mean to—please, it wasn't my fault—!"
Tang Hao jolted awake, springing up from the bed, heart pounding.
Cobwebbed, cracked ceiling. A pallet stuffed with straw beneath him. Beside him, little Tang San slept soundly after drinking goat milk. On the floor, several bottles of cheap barley liquor lay half drunk.
Cold sweat drenched Tang Hao's back.
It had all been a nightmare.
(END CHAPTER)
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