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

Chapter 203 Haotian Sect

As Nan Qiuqiu listened to Wang Dong'er's gentle words of comfort, the grievances in her heart gradually dissipated. She looked up at the other person and saw that Wang Dong'er was beautiful and flawless, with genuine kindness in her eyes. She couldn't help but feel relieved and subconsciously responded.

Her tears had stopped sometime earlier. She reached out and shook hands with Wang Dong'er, who then pulled her to sit down in the rest area. The warmth from Wang Dong'er's fingertips was gentle yet firm, slowly easing her tense nerves. When she looked at the unfamiliar surroundings, she felt less resistant.

As for Wang Dong'er's little secret desire to form a "lesbian" relationship with Xia Die, Xia Die, as the person involved, is probably completely unaware of it at this moment.

Nan Shuishui's confidence in leaving her daughter behind had another reason. The Earth Dragon Gate possessed a mysterious and profound skill passed down from its first master a thousand years ago, allowing them to discern a person's character through their facial features. Just now, with only a brief glance, she had seen the upright and honest nature in the faces of the students from St. Freya Academy, indicating they were definitely not wicked.

As a mother, how could she easily entrust her daughter to a stranger if she weren't so certain? Furthermore, Xia Die's explanation of the academy's rules—freedom of movement and no coercion—completely put her at ease. It was under these considerations that she made what seemed like a carefree decision.

The first round of elimination matches concluded two days later, with nearly half of the 167 participating teams being eliminated, leaving the once bustling Mingyue Hotel feeling much emptier.

All the teams that passed the first round received housing adjustments, except for those from St. Freya Academy, whose accommodations remained unchanged.

Today is the second day of the knockout stage. The first match was played by the Holy Spirit Sect. However, their opponent surrendered without even playing a single match. The fact that the match ended so decisively surprised many people who were waiting to watch the game.

"Haotian Sect versus Yanyu Sect, please bring your teams to the stage."

As Zheng Zhan's voice rang out, a woman stepped out from the Haotian Sect's ranks, instantly attracting everyone's attention—she bore a striking resemblance to Wang Dong'er. Both had long, pinkish-blue hair, and both possessed exquisitely beautiful features; their classic oval faces made their skin appear even whiter and whiter, yet radiated a healthy glow.

She had large, bright eyes, like they were filled with glittering stars, sparkling with a lively light. Tall and slender, about 1.7 meters tall, her proportions were perfect: her waist was so thin it seemed one could encircle it with a single hand, seemingly delicate yet subtly revealing a resilient strength; her legs were long and straight, their lines flowing like sculpted white jade, each step carrying an innate elegance. Her overall figure was beautifully curved, possessing both feminine grace and a vibrant, lively energy.

She wore a long blue dress—the Haotian Sect team uniforms were all predominantly blue, which further accentuated her refined and elegant demeanor. When she stood by the stage, it was difficult to tell whether she or Wang Dong'er, standing in the distance, was more dazzling.

"Tang Wutong!"

Wang Dong'er's voice suddenly rang out, carrying an icy chill and an undisguised shock. She stared intently at the figure on the stage who looked almost exactly like herself, a faint hint of killing intent flashing in her eyes, like a sharp edge tempered with ice, gone in an instant.

Just as the atmosphere in the arena became tense due to Wang Dong'er's low shout, Di Qiu'er appeared on the sidelines without warning.

Nan Qiuqiu was already somewhat dazed by the sudden turn of events, but when she caught sight of Di Qiu'er, she was startled—not because her appearance was so sudden, but because of the eight divine rings hanging behind her, whose colors shimmered and exuded an awe-inspiring pressure. Even just looking at them from afar made people subconsciously hold their breath.

"Dong'er, what are you looking at?" Di Qiu'er walked to Wang Dong'er's side, followed her gaze to Tang Wutong on the stage, her tone filled with curiosity.

Wang Dong'er's eyes remained fixed on Tang Wutong, her voice tinged with coldness: "Qiu'er, you're here. Are you looking at that 'Frankenstein's monster' from our past life?"

Nan Qiuqiu, standing next to them, was completely bewildered by what they were saying. She couldn't understand what they meant by "past life" and "Frankenstein's monster." She only felt that the two of them had an inexplicably strong aura, and even the air seemed to become a bit heavier.

Following Wang Dong'er's gaze, Di Qiu'er saw the figure on the stage and her aura instantly turned cold. A trace of estrangement and chill, exactly like Wang Dong'er's, flashed in her eyes.

She responded faintly, her tone devoid of emotion, yet carrying an unmistakable air of rejection: "It's her."

Those three simple words were like a block of ice thrown into water, adding even more chill to the already delicate atmosphere. Nan Qiuqiu watched from the side, her heart pounding. She felt that the aura of this suddenly appearing Di Qiu'er was even more intimidating than that of Tang Wutong on the stage.

Inside the arena, the first to appear from the Yan Yu Sect was a young man dressed in a fiery red outfit. He was tall and straight, with a faint aura of flames surrounding him, clearly a cultivator of a fire-attribute martial soul.

However, Tang Wutong merely glanced at him indifferently, her gaze nonchalant, as if she were looking at an ant blocking her path, showing no concern whatsoever. She didn't even immediately assume a fighting stance, but simply stood quietly in place, her long, light blue hair fluttering gently in the breeze. That composure and disdain were like an invisible thorn, instantly causing the young man from the Yan Yu Sect to blush.

"How can these people from the Haotian Sect be so arrogant?" The young man from the Yanyu Sect clenched his fists, a surge of anger rising within him. He considered himself one of the best among his peers, and although the Yanyu Sect's Flame Martial Soul wasn't particularly outstanding, it was still quite formidable. When had he ever been so looked down upon? The other party's gaze clearly showed that they didn't take him seriously, as if the outcome of this duel was already decided.

A surge of anger rushed to his head. He took a deep breath, and the fiery aura around him suddenly intensified. His eyes sharpened as well. Even if the other party was from the Haotian Sect, he would let her know that the disciples of the Yanyu Sect were not to be trifled with!
"Alright, I advise you to admit defeat quickly and not waste my time."

Tang Wutong parted her red lips slightly, her voice clear and cold, carrying a condescending indifference: "Alright, I advise you to hurry up and admit defeat, don't waste my time."

As soon as she finished speaking, she didn't even release her martial spirit; she simply stood there quietly. Her nonchalant attitude ignited more fury than any provocation. The young man from the Flame Prison Sect throbbed with anger, gritting his teeth and saying in a deep voice, "Don't be so arrogant!"

Zheng Zhan's voice rang out with unquestionable authority: "Both sides are prohibited from making a move before I say 'start,' otherwise, they will be immediately disqualified from the competition."

His sharp gaze swept over the two on the stage, radiating the awe-inspiring righteousness of a referee. The young man from the Flame Prison Sect froze instantly. Despite his burning anger, he could only forcefully suppress his attack, glaring hatefully at Tang Wutong before retreating to his original position.

Tang Wutong acted as if she hadn't heard him, maintaining her indifferent demeanor as if Zheng Zhan's warning had nothing to do with her.

Tang Wutong raised her eyes to look at the young man from the Yan Yu Sect, her tone still calm, but full of provocation: "My name is Tang Wutong. If you are not convinced, you are welcome to come up and defeat me."

Her words were concise and direct, without any unnecessary embellishment, yet they were like a sharp sword, piercing the other person's pride. She didn't even bother to say another word, only signaling with her eyes—if you have the ability, prove it with your strength.

The young man from the Flame Prison Sect's chest heaved violently, his knuckles turning white from clenching his fists. If Zheng Zhan's warning hadn't still been ringing in his ears, he would have rushed forward immediately.

Both sides retreated to within 100 meters, and Zheng Zhan activated the simulated battlefield. As pale blue light flowed, the barrier of the simulated battlefield slowly rose, clearly displaying the random area on the light screen—[Crystal Mountain No. 45206].

As the light faded, Tang Wutong and the young man from the Yan Yu Sect found themselves in a rugged crystal mountain. Beneath their feet lay translucent crystal rock, refracting tiny specks of light; all around them stood crystal pillars of various shapes, some soaring into the clouds, others barely reaching their waists, their surfaces covered with natural patterns resembling ice cracks, gleaming with a cold luster under the virtual light.

The mountain wind whistled through the cracks in the stone pillars, and occasionally tiny crystal fragments slid down the cliff face, striking the stone surface below and producing a crisp echo. The two stood at opposite ends of a crystal platform, with a hundred meters between them a forest of intersecting stones, which could provide cover or become obstacles to their movement.

The young man from the Flame Prison Sect took a deep breath, feeling the cold touch of the crystal stone beneath his feet. His gaze grew increasingly solemn. Although there was nothing flammable in this area, it was hard and sharp everywhere. If he was not careful, he could be scratched by the edge of the crystal. It was not a favorable terrain for his Flame Martial Soul.

Tang Wutong casually leaned against a crystal pillar as thick as a person, her long pinkish-blue hair contrasting with the crystal behind her, creating a strange harmony. She glanced around, her gaze lingering briefly on the sharp edges of the crystal, a faint smile playing on her lips.

Without further hesitation, the young man from the Flame Prison Sect let out a low shout, and his soul power suddenly erupted: "Martial Soul, Flaming Lion!"

With his roar, a phantom of a lion engulfed in raging flames appeared behind him, and a wave of intense heat swept outwards, even warming the surrounding cold crystal stones.

Immediately afterwards, six spirit rings rose one after another from beneath his feet: two yellow rings, two purple rings, and two black rings, neatly arranged—the most standard and optimal spirit ring configuration for a Soul Emperor. As the spirit rings pulsed, the aura of the Flaming Lion grew increasingly violent. He stared fiercely at Tang Wutong, as if he were about to pounce and tear her apart at any moment.

"Tang Wutong, take this!" he roared, his first spirit ring lit up first, and the phantom of the Fiery Lion pounced forward, a condensed pillar of fire shooting towards Tang Wutong's location.

"Overestimating yourself." Tang Wutong's voice was tinged with coldness. Before she finished speaking, the spirit rings around her body lit up.

The configuration of four black and four red soul rings suddenly appeared. The deep black and the blazing red intertwined and pulsated, and the pressure emanating from them instantly overwhelmed the aura of the young man from the Flame Prison Sect, making the entire Crystal Stone Mountain seem to tremble.

At the same time, a majestic phantom of a sea god slowly materialized behind her, wielding a trident, his gaze unfathomable, exuding an aura of overwhelming power over the ocean. This was one of the martial souls she inherited from her father—the Sea God Martial Soul, while the other martial soul was the equally formidable Clear Sky Hammer.

The mere display of his Martial Soul and Soul Rings caused the young man from the Flame Prison Sect to change drastically. His previous anger was instantly replaced by horror, and even the phantom of the Flame Lion trembled slightly due to this oppressive aura.

(End of this chapter)