Douluo Continent: The Twin Sons of the Styx River, Shaking the World and Destroying the Heavens

Chapter 163 Long Xiaoyao
Yan Shaozhe's pupils contracted sharply as he stared at the hellish scene below, the air around him seemingly freezing instantly. He slowly turned around, his gaze like an icy blade piercing Wan Hun Douluo, and squeezed out two words through gritted teeth: "Seeking death."

Before the words were even finished, the Radiant Phoenix Martial Soul behind him suddenly surged, and blazing golden-red flames swept across the sky like a tsunami, turning half the sky into a dazzling sea of ​​fire. The phoenix phantom spread its wings that blotted out the sun, and let out a deafening cry from its beak, charging towards the Netherworld Douluo with the power to burn mountains and boil seas—this attack concentrated nearly half of his soul power, clearly showing that he was truly enraged and determined to kill his opponent on the spot.

Upon seeing this, the Netherworld Douluo was terrified, and his survival instinct caused him to unleash his full potential. His ninth spirit ring suddenly lit up, and the pitch-black light enveloped his entire body. Under the activation of his spirit skill, his figure split into two afterimages, and the Netherworld Sword in his hand transformed into two swords, with nine twisted soul phantoms swirling around their blades. These were the nine powerful spirits he had sealed within them.

"Netherworld Twin Slashes!" He roared as he raised the two swords above his head. Nine phantom souls simultaneously emitted a shrill shriek, transforming into wisps of black energy that merged into the blades. This caused the two Netherworld swords to swell to tens of feet in length, slashing towards Yan Shaozhe with a sharp whistling sound that tore through space.

However, such struggles were ultimately futile in the face of a level 98 Super Douluo. Yan Shaozhe didn't even move his feet, but simply raised his hand and pressed it against the charging Netherworld Twin Swords. The originally brilliant flames of light suddenly subsided, and then burst out with an even more terrifying temperature. The phoenix phantom's claws, carrying golden light, easily tore through the black aura of the Netherworld Swords.

With two crisp cracking sounds, the Netherworld Twin Swords broke in two simultaneously, and the nine phantom souls let out short screams in the flames before being instantly incinerated. The body of the Radiant Phoenix did not stop, crashing solidly into the Netherworld Douluo.

"puff--"

As if struck by a ten-thousand-ton force, the Netherworld Douluo was sent flying backward like a kite with a broken string, spitting out blood mixed with fragments of internal organs along the way. Finally, he crashed heavily into a small mountain in the distance, causing half of the mountain to collapse and burying him under countless rubble.

Amidst the billowing smoke and dust, his mangled body could be vaguely seen embedded in the pile of rubble. His breath was as faint as a candle flickering in the wind; his martial spirit was already shattered, and his soul power was completely dissipated. At this moment, let alone an attack, even the slightest disturbance could kill him instantly.

However, Wanhun Douluo was directly killed by Song Yunzhi. Just as Yan Shaozhe severely injured Youming Douluo, Song Yunzhi on the other side had already locked her cold gaze onto Wanhun Douluo. The horrific scene of the vengeful spirit's self-destruction had completely dispelled the last trace of hesitation in her eyes.

"You wicked creature, pay with your life!"

Song Yunzhi moved slightly, and her sixth soul ring suddenly lit up. A dazzling azure light gathered in front of her, transforming into a sharp spear over ten feet long. The spear shaft was wrapped in whistling wind vortexes, and its tip flashed with a cold light capable of tearing through space. It was her sixth soul skill—Divine Wind Spear.

The Soul Douluo, distracted by the attack on the Netherworld Douluo, turned around and saw a blinding blue light approaching. Terrified, he hurriedly urged the remaining vengeful spirits beside him to shield him, while simultaneously circulating his soul power to try and erect a defense. However, those low-level vengeful spirits were like paper in front of the Divine Wind Spear; wherever the wind spear passed, they were instantly shredded into ashes, without even causing the slightest obstacle.

"Pfft-"

A crisp piercing sound rang out as the Divine Wind Spear effortlessly pierced through the chest of the Ten Thousand Souls Douluo, its tip emerging from his back, drawing out a spray of scalding blood. He looked down in disbelief at the gruesome hole in his chest, his mouth gurgling, but he could no longer utter a complete sound.

Song Yunzhi's eyes remained unwavering as she waved her hand to retrieve the Divine Wind Spear. The azure whirlwind dissipated, leaving only the body of the Myriad Souls Douluo lying stiffly backward, crashing heavily to the ground, utterly lifeless. The Myriad Souls Banner, which had once struck fear into the hearts of countless soul masters, also dimmed with its master's death, falling with a thud into a pool of blood.

“Wanhun… Youming… Yan Shaozhe, and you…” Zhang Peng looked at his companions who had been lost one after another, his voice trembling slightly with shock and anger. His gaze swept back and forth between Yan Shaozhe and Song Yunzhi, and his resentment was almost overflowing.

Yan Shaozhe glanced at him coldly, his tone filled with undisguised sarcasm: "Zhang Peng, in this situation, you should worry about yourself first." Before he finished speaking, the spiritual power of light around him began to surge, clearly not intending to give the other party any chance to breathe.

Just as tensions were running high and a major battle was about to break out, a weary, aged sigh suddenly rang out in mid-air, seemingly carrying a power that could penetrate everything, causing everyone present to instinctively freeze in their tracks.

"Stop it."

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an indescribable majesty, as if it had been refined over a thousand years, easily suppressing the turbulent soul power fluctuations in the arena.

Yan Shaozhe's gaze suddenly shifted to the dense forest shrouded in shadow on his left. His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, and his previously slightly restrained soul power surged up once more. A cold smile curved his lips, and his voice, though not loud, clearly echoed throughout the area: "Who's there? Since you're here, why hide? Come out."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the silent forest around him, a hint of understanding in his voice: "I knew it. These three alone aren't arrogant enough to dare to provoke me and Lin'er, and Elder Song at the same time."

"Truly worthy of being the Dragon God Douluo's disciple, such keen perception!" An aged voice, tinged with admiration, echoed from the void. As soon as the words fell, a ripple suddenly appeared in the space above everyone's heads, and a pitch-black crack tore open out of thin air. Then, a figure slowly stepped out from within. With a light touch of his toes, he walked directly on the void. With each step, fine, spiderweb-like cracks appeared in the space beneath his feet, only to silently heal in the next instant, as if they had never appeared.

"The carefree Mu Qingfeng, the black and white twin dragons."

The old man spoke calmly, and suddenly a huge black dragon shadow appeared behind him. The dragon's body was like a piece of black jade, its scales shimmering with a cold luster, and its whiskers swayed, carrying a chilling pressure.

This old man was completely different from Zhang Peng, the Scorpion Tiger Douluo. He was tall and upright, with his silver hair neatly combed and tied back with an ancient jade hairpin. His face was rosy and full, as delicate as a newborn baby's, with two long, snow-white eyebrows that drooped to his cheeks. His hands were behind his back, and his expression was indifferent.

He hovered quietly in mid-air, without any leakage of soul power, appearing as if he were just an ordinary old man. Strangely, the violent soul power impact generated by the fierce battle between Xian Lin'er and Zhang Peng not far away would suddenly dissipate as if encountering an invisible barrier when it approached within ten meters of his body, without even a ripple being stirred in front of him.

Yan Shaozhe's pupils contracted slightly, his heart filled with shock—to be able to isolate the soul power impact of a Super Douluo level with just his own aura, such strength was far beyond that of an ordinary Title Douluo.

Yan Shaozhe's expression turned serious, not only because the old man had directly mentioned Elder Mu when he appeared, but also because of Mu Qingfeng, the carefree and unrestrained, and the Black and White Twin Saint Dragons.

He said to the old man, "You are Dragon Emperor Douluo Long Xiaoyao."

………………

At the same time, Xuanzi's battle was also going poorly.

As dusk fell like blood, Xuanzi was utterly wretched under Jing Hongchen's oppressive aura. Each burst of soul power he unleashed was like an ant trying to shake a tree, effortlessly neutralized by Jing Hongchen. Xuanzi's body was covered in blood, his clothes soaked through and stuck to his flesh, each struggle tearing at his wounds, sending piercing pain through his entire body. Jing Hongchen, however, remained expressionless, his eyes filled with disdain, his soul tool constantly shifting its attack methods, each move ruthless, aimed directly at Xuanzi's vitals, as if he wanted to crush the man before him completely.

Undeterred, Xuanzi endured the excruciating pain and mustered his remaining soul power in an attempt to retaliate. He roared, his soul power surging wildly, condensing into a fierce attack that shot towards Jing Hongchen. However, Jing Hongchen merely raised his hand slightly; a dazzling light flashed, and Xuanzi's attack instantly vanished. Immediately afterward, Jing Hongchen's figure flashed, appearing behind Xuanzi like a ghost, and slammed a heavy palm into Xuanzi's back. Xuanzi groaned, spitting out a mouthful of blood, his body flying like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily to the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

In the midst of this thrilling battle, the two sect leaders of the Haotian Sect, Titan and Niu Tian, ​​held their breath and observed the situation with piercing eyes from the shadows. They were hidden in the shadows, their figures concealed in the darkness, only their sharp eyes revealing their presence.

"Brother, it seems the person they were talking about isn't here." Titan lowered his voice, his brows furrowed, and a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

Niu Tian nodded slightly, his gaze falling on a certain person in the room, and said in a deep voice, "However, there is someone here whom that person asked us to find. This person is crucial to our plan and we must not miss him."

"Hmm, are you ready to make a move?" Titan said in a deep voice, his aura gradually rising.

"Wait a little longer, until the battle between the two sides is nearly over."

The two worked in perfect harmony, subtly adjusting their positions and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The air seemed thick with tension.

As the saying goes, "The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind." In a dense forest further away, Da Ming and Er Ming, a man and a woman, vigilantly watched the commotion. High above them, two enormous figures loomed in the sky—the Light Dragon King and the Dark Dragon King.

These powerful figures, among the Ten Dragon Kings, exuded terrifying pressure. The Light Dragon King radiated dazzling light, holy and majestic; the Dark Dragon King was shrouded in a dense aura of darkness, mysterious and dangerous. They surveyed everything below, like masters of life and death, ready to launch a fatal blow to their prey at any moment. A greater crisis was quietly brewing.

(End of this chapter)