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

Chapter 235 Sorry, you're alone in a room.

The divine realm should be an existence that transcends all ordinary planes! How could she, as the little princess of the divine realm, have fallen to such a state?

At that moment, she caught a glimpse of Xia Die coldly directing something, while Ye Yulin and the others were methodically arresting the remaining members of the Haotian Sect one by one.

Now, all members of the Haotian Sect have been captured, with no one escaping. Those who resisted fiercely are now cold corpses, lying dead on this land where they once dared to run rampant.

A wave of overwhelming despair washed over her. Her former pride and reliance shattered completely in the face of reality, leaving only endless confusion and bitterness. Recalling the tragic deaths of those Title Douluos, a strange surge of strength welled up within her.

Despite the excruciating pain from being beaten by Wang Dong'er and being bound and unable to move, Tang Wutong still stubbornly roared at Xia Die, "You beasts who indiscriminately kill innocent people! Aren't you afraid of divine retribution for treating human life so lightly!"

Her voice trembled with anger and pain, yet it carried her last bit of stubbornness, as if she wanted to use this roar to hold onto that crumbling pride.

Upon hearing this, Xia Die, who was watching the aftermath of the battle, turned her head in astonishment, her eyes filled with surprise: "Do you have the right to say that?"

Tang Wutong's anger flared even more at this question, and she retorted sharply, "Of course! Those who died at my hands were just accidentally injured by my soul skills. I never intended to kill them. Who told them to be so weak? They dared to participate in the competition with such strength. They deserved to die!"

She took a breath, her tone becoming even more threatening: "You are now besieging and killing my Haotian Sect's Title Douluo, which is tantamount to making an enemy of my Haotian Sect to the death! This will surely bring you endless disaster! The gods in heaven will never let you go!"

"Snapped!"

A crisp slap suddenly rang out.

Caught off guard, Tang Wutong was slapped hard across the face by Di Qiu'er, her head snapping to the side. The slap was swift and brutal, bringing a secret sense of satisfaction to many onlookers—Di Qiu'er's distorted and despicable words were truly contemptible. "You!" Tang Wutong was stunned for a moment by the blow, then her eyes blazed with fury as she glared at Di Qiu'er, but she was too tightly bound to move.

There was an uproar in the audience.

The people of the Sun Moon Empire, witnessing this scene, couldn't help but sigh at Tang Wutong's cold-heartedness, discussing how she was "heartless" and "a devil hiding behind an angel's face." However, the audience from the original Three Kingdoms had a completely different reaction, enthusiastically launching into a tirade, cursing everyone from the Haotian Sect generation all the way back to their ancestors.

"Good job! That's how you teach her a lesson!"

"The Haotian Sect has always had a good reputation, but I never expected that the young sect master would be such a vicious and ruthless person!"

"I think she believes in the law of the jungle and probably doesn't even consider us ordinary people as human beings anymore, hehe..."

"Still believes in the law of the jungle? When Captain St. Freya beat her up, she looked like a dead dog! What kind of successor of the Sea God is she? In my opinion, she'd be more like a successor of an evil god!"

"Stop talking nonsense, what elders could such a beast have?"

"Thank you for pointing that out, sir. I had misunderstood..."

A cacophony of mocking voices pierced Tang Wutong's ears like demonic chants, driving her to the brink of madness. She desperately widened her eyes, glaring at everyone around her, trying to project an air of authority, but bound and unable to move in the prison cart, she only appeared utterly ridiculous as a prisoner.

The jeers and jeers grew louder, and even the previously silent audience members, annoyed by her glare, joined in the condemnation. Even the evil spirit masters of the Holy Spirit Cult couldn't help but whisper among themselves.

Wu Yun leaned close to Zhong Liwu and whispered, "Master, this woman doesn't seem to have a good temperament, and her talent and strength are far worse than we expected... You said you wanted to recruit her before, do you still intend to take her now? In my opinion, she's even crazier than the people in our Holy Spirit Sect, so we need to reconsider this matter."

Another person chimed in, "It's not the trouble we're afraid of, it's the incompetence that's causing trouble. This woman is brainless. If she really joins the Holy Cult, we'll probably have to completely brainwash her, otherwise she might cause some serious trouble outside. But her combat awareness is too poor. To put it bluntly, she doesn't even have an advantage compared to a novice Soul Master or a Great Soul Master. She can only use a few Soul Skills, and at most she can combine them together. She doesn't have any unique insights whatsoever."

The battle between Wang Dong'er and Tang Wutong clearly showed that their spirit ring levels were almost identical. Wang Dong'er used five spirit skills, and even a super artifact was useless in her hands. Ultimately, it was Tang Wutong's poor combat awareness—Zhong Liwu understood this perfectly; at that level, even a dog would shake its head in disbelief. He was certain that either Tang Ya or Yan Feng could easily beat her to a pulp.

Instead of wasting resources cultivating Tang Wutong, it would be better to focus on improving Yan Feng—after all, he was their personal disciple, and he had a good chance of reaching level 98 Super Douluo in the future. The Holy Spirit Cult members' interest in Tang Wutong gradually faded.

Zhongli Wu glanced one last time at Tang Wutong in the prison cart and said indifferently, "I'm leaving. We'll talk about the rest in three days." With that, he turned and left with his men.

Tang Wutong stared blankly at Xia Die's profile, her eyes filled with astonishment and confusion. Incredulous thoughts churned within her: How dare he? How dare he act like this? Isn't he afraid of incurring divine retribution?

Perhaps feeling uncomfortable under that gaze that looked at her like she was an idiot, Xia Die turned her head, glanced at Tang Wutong indifferently, and a meaningful smile appeared on her lips: "Weren't you quite arrogant at the registration desk earlier? You said someone would become a laughing stock, and it seems that today, it has indeed come true."

She paused, her tone calm yet each word piercing: "On the field, you were defeated because you were outmatched, and your elders jumped out to cause trouble, leaving you utterly humiliated and miserable. And you? You were locked in a prison van and cursed by thousands—this joke is truly spectacular and worthy of being recorded in history."

Finally, Xia Die's gaze turned cold, and she said, word by word, "As for the Haotian Sect, they will soon disappear completely from this continent, forever nailed to the pillar of shame of the continent as losers."

"Correspondingly, the Spirit Hall, which should have defeated you and the two great empires and unified the continent, will return to its rightful place in historical evaluation." Xia Die's voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears, carrying a sense of certainty that everything had settled.

These words pierced Tang Wutong's heart like needles, negating the Haotian Sect's status while simultaneously elevating their opponent. Every word was like reopening old wounds, making her tremble with anger, yet she didn't even have the strength to refute them. "You, you... Waaah—!"

Tang Wutong pointed at Xia Die fiercely, her face contorted with a murderous intent that seemed to want to devour him alive. But his words were like poisoned daggers, piercing her heart and churning within her. She could no longer bear it, spitting out two mouthfuls of blood. Her eyes glazed over, and she fainted instantly.

"She couldn't even handle a few words. Her resilience is too weak." Xia Die looked at the unconscious Tang Wutong, pursed her lips indifferently, and said in a tone that was completely calm.

Seeing that Tang Wutong had fainted after just a few words, Xia Die nodded noncommittally, then raised her hand and waved to the soldiers beside her, saying, "Take the prison cart away."

What happened next was simple: the entire Haotian Sect group was imprisoned.

Of course, Tang Wutong was special; she was not thrown into an ordinary cell, but was instead held in a more secure place.

At this moment, Tang Wutong was being held captive in a closed underground elevator by two soldiers. Her disheveled figure was reflected in the cold metal walls. The elevator continued to descend at a steady pace, the lights trembling slightly with the mechanical movements, yet the end remained elusive.

She could clearly hear the dull thud of gears meshing; with each inch she moved down, the surrounding air grew colder and harder, as if she were being led into some bottomless, unknown abyss. An unease grew wildly within her—where were they taking her? To a torture chamber, or somewhere far more terrifying?

The elevator slowly came to a stop on the eighteenth basement level, and the heavy metal doors slid open to the sides with a hiss.

Contrary to expectations, the outside wasn't a gloomy torture chamber, but rather a long corridor lined with isolation rooms made of alloy. Each room was fitted with transparent, reinforced soul-guided glass, allowing a clear view of the simple, even monotonous, furnishings. The cold metallic texture permeated the air, creating a suffocating sense of oppression.

This place was clearly built specifically to hold important prisoners. The strict isolation and the omnipresent soul-guiding restrictions made it more despairing than any other cell.

The soldiers escorting her first simply unlocked the chains, then took out a set of specially made soul guide bracelets and anklets, and fastened them to Tang Wutong's limbs with a few clicks. Finally, a heavy collar was also put around her neck.

The moment these metal rings touched her skin, they sent a chilling sensation through her, accompanied by a faint electric current—clearly a soul-guiding device reinforced with soul power suppression. Even if she tried to use her soul power to resist, it would be instantly suppressed.

The soldier uttered a low "Go," and Tang Wutong, dragging her limbs bound by the soul guidance rings, moved towards the row of metal isolation rooms in front of her. Each step was accompanied by the heavy scraping sound of the shackles, particularly jarring in the empty and cold eighteenth basement level. Her shadow was stretched long under the pale light, exuding an indescribable stubbornness and loneliness.

"Hurry up." The soldier urged impatiently, and seeing that Tang Wutong was moving slowly, he picked up the stick in his hand and hit her hard on the buttocks.

"Ah! You..." Tang Wutong winced in pain, turning around abruptly, her eyes blazing with anger. She wanted to shout, but was forced back by the other person's cold gaze. The shackles bound her, preventing her from even the simplest form of resistance. She could only grit her teeth and quicken her pace, humiliation and anger churning within her.

This is considered the most secure underground level in the Sun Moon Empire. Those who manage this place have virtually no chance of escaping unless they finish their sentence.

(End of this chapter)