Douluo, my clone Groudon

Chapter 349 Defeat Qian Daoliu
Wuhun City, the Pope's Palace.

The atmosphere inside the magnificent hall was solemn. Perched high on the papal throne, Bibidon wore a magnificent papal robe, a purple-gold crown, and held a jeweled scepter symbolizing supreme power.

Her stunningly beautiful face was as cold as ice, and deep within her amethyst-like eyes lurked a surging anger and a hint of barely perceptible fear.

In the center of the hall, several elderly men dressed in magnificent bishop robes, exuding a powerful aura, stood with their hands at their sides, each with a grim expression.

"waste!"

Bibi Dong's icy voice echoed in the hall, carrying a chilling pressure, "Two whole years! Two years, and you still can't even figure out whether that so-called 'Du An' is a human or a ghost! Have you thrown the dignity of the Spirit Hall to the ground to be trampled on by everyone?"

A cardinal stepped forward with a forced smile, his voice trembling with fear: "Your Holiness, please calm your anger! That 'Duan'... that Duan's whereabouts are shrouded in mystery; he only appears at the 'Temple of Wisdom' at fixed times."

“Our people can’t get close at all. Any Soul Master who tries to forcibly contact or follow them… will inexplicably fall into a coma, wake up with a blank memory, and their soul will feel as if it has been frozen! Moreover…”

He swallowed hard. "The public... the public outcry is too high. That 'Professor Oak's' reputation... it's already... it's already..."

"Already what?" Bibi Dong's voice was even colder. The bottom of her scepter slammed down heavily, making a dull sound that seemed to shake the entire hall.

“It already…is showing signs of surpassing the two great empires and…and our Spirit Hall!” The bishop’s voice lowered, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Surpass?" Bibi Dong's eyes flashed with a cold light, and a terrifying killing intent that was suffocating instantly spread out. It was the dark aura of the Rakshasa God, which made all the bishops present feel their souls tremble, as if they had fallen into the deepest hell.

"What a superior position! What a pretentious 'Professor Oak'!"

She stood up abruptly, her papal robes billowing and rustling even without wind.

"What's the attitude of the Hall of Offerings?" she asked coldly, suppressing her surging killing intent. That old bastard Qian Daoliu would never tolerate an unknown being shaking the foundation of the angelic faith.

"The High Priest... the High Priest has personally issued a challenge, demanding a battle with Du'an." Another bishop quickly replied, "At this moment, Du'an... should already be outside Wuhun City."

Bibi Dong snorted coldly, sat back on her throne, and her purple eyes flickered with uncertainty. She wanted to see how that guy, who exuded an ominous aura of death, would play tricks on Qian Daoliu, that old bastard, with his Holy Sword of Light!
If that old thing could purify it directly... it would save her a lot of trouble.

The Hall of Offerings, located at the highest point of Wuhun City, is bathed in an eternal, holy light.

A colossal angel statue stood in the plaza before the temple, radiating a warm and majestic light. Yet at this moment, this sacred radiance was tainted and distorted by another force.

They all stood quietly in the center of the square, at the edge of the shadow cast by the huge angel statue.

He was still dressed in a deathly black robe, his face hidden by a hood. Behind him, a phantom pyramid, constructed entirely of pure death energy and the power of faith, was slowly rising.

This pyramid is not a physical entity, yet it exudes an aura of oppression far heavier than any physical one. Its surface is a chaotic, dark gold, and instead of being smooth, it is covered with countless twisted, tormented, and wailing faces of souls!

Their silent struggles and screams create vivid scenes of hell. The pyramid's apex does not point to the sky, but tilts slightly, like a cold, judging eye, locking onto the entire sacrificial hall.

"You invited me, why don't you show yourself?" The cold words echoed across the square.

A cold, deathly, all-ending gray domain rapidly spread out from the pyramid's center.

Wherever it passed, the warm and holy angelic radiance quickly dissipated and vanished as if encountering its nemesis.

On the ground, the golden bricks were covered with a layer of grayish hue, as if they had undergone millions of years of weathering in an instant. The air was filled with a chilling cold that froze the soul and an aura of decay that suggested the withering of all things.

This is the "Death Judgment Domain"! A terrifying domain formed by the fusion of the death law of the Grim Reaper's scythe and the eternal suppressive power of the Sun Pyramid, and then infused with a massive amount of faith power.

It is not a god in itself, but it contains the true meaning of death that leads to godhood.

"Demon! Blaspheming the sacred ground! Must be punished!"

Deep within the ancestral hall, a hoarse yet imbued with boundless majesty and fury roared like a thunderclap.

A golden beam of light, more dazzling and intense than the sun, burst through the roof of the palace and shot straight into the sky. At the core of that pure and supreme divine power of light, a figure stepped out of the light.

Qian Daoliu!
His hair and beard stood on end, and his simple linen robes fluttered wildly under the surging power of divine light. Behind him, the phantom of a six-winged angel stood tall, radiating a vast divine might that purified everything. He held no physical sword, but his entire aura had coalesced into the sharpest holy sword of light in the world.

That immense divine power had already surpassed the limits of the mortal realm, touching the threshold of becoming a god at level 100.

A thousand golden eyes burned with a furious rage that could consume everything, their gaze fixed on the black figure in the square that exuded a foul and deathly aura, and the evil pyramid.

This blasphemous aura of death, this heresy that shakes the very foundation of angelic faith, must be thoroughly purified!
He said nothing more, his right hand forming a sword shape, pointing fiercely at Du'an and the pyramid below.

"Angel Holy Judgment!"

With this decree, which seemed to contain divine power, all the light elements in the entire sacrificial hall square were instantly drained, compressed, and condensed!
A colossal lightsaber, its brilliance and destructive power beyond description, appeared out of thin air! Its blade was composed of pure light, shimmering with golden light, and carrying an absolute will to judge and purify all things.

The space groaned under the strain the moment the lightsaber appeared, torn apart by streaks of darkness.

This is the furious strike of the Limit Douluo, the ultimate judgment of the angelic power against the heretics of death!
Du'an raised his head, and in the shadow of the hood, his lifeless eyes remained devoid of any emotion.

Faced with this terrifying lightsaber capable of destroying a city, the phantom of the Sun Pyramid behind him suddenly erupted with an even deeper dark golden light. The struggling soul faces on the tower walls emitted silent shrieks, and an even more powerful and purer will of death surged upwards, like the sleeping Grim Reaper opening its cold eyes.

The gray vortex around him spun wildly, and he also raised a hand wrapped in a black robe to meet the sword of judgment!

Two terrifying forces, representing the extremes of life and death, collided violently atop Wuhun City!

Du'an, imbued with faith, though not a Limit Douluo, was cold and indifferent under the blessing of faith, as if descending from an unimaginable, vast, and indescribable torrent of will!

This will is formless and intangible, yet it is heavier and more majestic than the Holy Sword of Light condensed by Qian Daoliu.

It pierced straight through the Angel's Sword, ignoring the radiance of the angel statue, and precisely, like a mountain, suppressed Qian Daoliu's boiling soul power core.

boom--!
Qian Daoliu's entire body trembled violently, and the Holy Sword of Light, which had been condensed to its limit and was about to be unleashed, suddenly froze, like an insect frozen in amber.

The surging, roaring angelic power within him seemed to be gripped tightly by an invisible giant hand, instantly becoming sluggish and chaotic.

A profound sense of fear and insignificance, originating from the level of life itself, overwhelmed all his senses like a cold tide.

He suddenly looked up, his golden eyes filled with disbelief and horror, staring intently at Du'an.

With just one move, this peak Limit Douluo of level 99 felt as suffocated and powerless as an ant looking up at a divine dragon.
Could it really be... a god?
"From now on, with the help of my martial spirit, I will spread the glory of the God of Wisdom."

The moment the words fell, the vast will suppressing the core of the Thousand Flowing Divine Power suddenly solidified. A pure, terrifying power, seemingly capable of annihilating the very essence of a soul, erupted abruptly.

puff--!
Qian Daoliu was struck as if by a heavy hammer. His face turned ashen, and he could no longer suppress his anger, spitting out a mouthful of scalding blood.

The holy sword of light he had conjured suddenly crumbled, turning into countless specks of light that vanished into nothingness. The phantom of the six-winged angel behind him let out a mournful cry, its light flickering uncertainly.

His tall body swayed violently, staggering back several steps, each step leaving deep footprints and cracks in the incredibly hard diamond rock. He finally knelt on one knee to barely steady himself, his golden eyes filled with boundless shock and fear.

The area in front of the shrine was deathly silent.

Du'an slowly lowered his raised hand, and the phantom of the Judgment Pyramid behind him, exuding a terrifying aura of death, vanished silently.

He remained standing there quietly, his pure black robe fluttering slightly in the dissipating energy ripples, the shadow beneath his hood unfathomable.

Inside the Papal Palace, Bibi Dong, who sat high on her throne, suddenly gripped the scepter in her hand, her knuckles turning white from the force.

Her stunningly beautiful face was no longer cold, only extremely solemn and a hint of... indescribable apprehension remained.

His amethyst-like eyes were fixed on the direction of the Hall of Worship, as if trying to pierce through all the barriers and see the one who had severely injured Qian Daoliu with just his domain and martial spirit.

"Du'an..." she murmured, her voice hoarse and heavy with unprecedented emotion. Who exactly was Du'an, shrouded in an aura of death?
(End of this chapter)